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Ode to your first lover

·ode to your first lover·

we were

just two fifteen year olds

each of us

shaped

from our own wreckage.

we filled

the voids of our heart,

with broken pieces of each other’s.

we hid smiles,

behind façades,

scared,

of people’s scrutiny

because what do fifteen year old’s know

other than infatuations.

we knew nothing lasts

specially for us

because individuals made

from hurricanes and wrecks

can’t tend oneself,

let alone other’s.

but you,

you were that smile that tugged on tired lips

you were the first one

i wove dreams with

the same dreams which i saw with consequent others,

you were the sea

and i, the shore

you took a little bit of me

with every meeting,

then we grew,

we learnt to fix ourselves

we questioned why

we finally saw

the differences

we fell apart.

and now,

i drive past your house at times,

the house that seemed too far years ago,

the house,

in front of which i used to always

mumble or whistle,

only this time

i rolled up my windows and sped off

 

 

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Open Letter to The Voices In My Head

 

Dear Voices in my head,

 

I should probably start with hello. But I am not. You are talking to me right now, questioning me. Like you always do.

 

You made your first entry into my life when I was 7 years old. I was asked to sing in front of my friends. You told me I wasn’t good enough. You told me I am horrible. And, although I might offend you, I didn’t like you. I hated you.

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