SwiZY_the_reader

I don't just wish to love you when you cannot look upon yourself in the mirror; or struggle to make an eye contact. Many might have promised to do that in your good and in your bad days, but I'd love you when you'd be toxic; when you'd say hurtful words.
          
          I'd be admitted to respond equally. If you'll leave me halfway, I'll walk back alone; to your home. If you'll let me cry throughout the day, I'll make you laugh in the night. And it's not that I don't love myself, but it's that I love you a little more.
          
          

She smeared her words with passion, smothered her characters with love and sprinkled a little magic on them.
          
          And on the black canvas on threshold of her heart and mind, she painted the fiction of her reality.
          
          

A THOUGHT
          
          But the most haunting thing when you are loved
          is the fear of being left.
          It's easy for anyone who doesn't know the little quirks of yours to fall for you.
          It's easy for someone who doesn't know your insanity to crave for you.
          It's easy for a person who hasn't wet itself by the ugliest puddles of yours
          To think that their love is amaranthine.
          
          But alas my friend,They are mistaken.
          For they can never truly love you until they have seen every inch of the pieces you own.
          Until they have seen the transition from a matutinal chirpy wish to the offensiveness on a pifful issue when you are already broken inside.
          
          Until they have seen and even then they decide
          to stay with you for ever
          Without being swept away by some dwindling overpowering emotions.
          For they'll truly love you only when they know of loving you.
          And they'll truly stay with you only when they plan to stay with you forever.
          
          

You have no idea of my pain. Every second seems like hours these days. Those nights makes me cry, when I used to make you sleep. When I used to peel off your soul and wrap it by the words. When I used to make you feel warm and relax. At one side, you used to give them back to me, and say that I'm feeling tickling without physical appearance.
          
          You have no idea of my pain. Every second I'm going through our chats, the conversation which was filled with lots of affection, love, care, and the hope I had to be with you forever. You too had the same hope that we shall surely get united one fine day.
          
          You have no idea of my pain. Every second I'm looking at your pictures just to feel the same love that I used to feel before. The love I used to feel while looking at your WhatsApp's profile that time I used to say the mole get distracted me a lot, please remove the picture as I'm unable to control my feelings.
          
          You have no idea of my pain. The night talks from 12 AM, to 6 AM makes me remind of your presence in my life these days. When I used to fight with you, and you used to bear the pain of my troublesome attitude and show me the love for me.
          
          You have no idea of my pain. Every second I'm being through these days. When you used to say that you love to live under the shadow of my love and deny to give it back to me, but I was fine with that as I loved too hard. Every situation, every difficulty I was really fine to fight with.
          
          You have no idea of my pain. I'm standing at the balcony and looking at the sky, praying to God these days for god's mercy upon me, and for the miracle which could change my life and give those memories the person,  back to me, who is made for me.
          
          There is hope a thing, which is left beside me.
          
          

Its 12am. Again. The part I'm most scared of. Not of ghosts but of myself. I don't know how I'm going to punish myself tonight. I don't know what punishment I've to bear. All I know is that it is it is going to spear another part of my body. It is going to snatch away the will to survive.
          
          It is 1am. I figure out how hard life has been. How I lost the ones I love when I was a kid. How badly mistaken I had been all my life.
          
          It's 2am and I find myself staring at the ceiling as if seeking for all the answers. Answers of why my life had to be something I never wanted it to be. Why am I the person I hate the most.
          
          It's 3am. I think of all my failures. How I've failed in the first standard and was declared nothing but a failure. How I've failed as a daughter. And how I could never be a good sister or friend. 
          
          It's 4am. I can cry no more. My pale face and eyes red. Things are hardly visible and gulping water is the next most difficult thing I have to do after holding my screams. The pain needs to be eased. It needs to be controlled. A pen or a blade? I cannot decide.
          
          At 5, it bleeds. Bleeds too hard to stop. Ink from my pen. Words on my diary. It gets better and I feel lighter.
          
          It's 6, and I have finally earned my peace.
          

When you look into the mirror, did you see your real face?
          
          A face which you put in front of everyone 
          
          or 
          
          the one which remains hidden behind the fake one?
          
          Are your scars visible to everyone out there?
          
          or maybe your smile is hiding something?
          
          Something,
          
          Which is painful
          
          Or
          
          Horrible?
          
          

No matter what she wears he found her attractive in every attire, and every time she wears those bangles he fall in love with her even more. 
          
          

Bruised souls and swollen eyes defines the dirtiest of the stories
          
          Some stories we hide from others, other ones which we hide from ourselves
          
          And some which we never want anyone to read, to turn the pages and decipher the meaning of blood stained words
          
          Hide your eyes, cover that blood with shades of Kohl and never let the veil slip off
          
          Because that story which is dirty for everyone was beautiful for you, long ago.
          
          

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