Her

What is you problem!!..
I mean seriously man!.. get over your “I’m a damsel in distress” and I neeeed someone to come save me and where is my knight in shining armour?..
‘cause guess what!?..
We don’t give a fuck.
So you can whine and cry and shake your bangles and run around naked for attention cause screw you, your not getting any..
And if you don’t want me to pour limbu pani down your padded bra you might wanna paint on a ‘prettier’ face and non smudging kajal so we aren’t forced to look at you and feel guilty at the black stain ringing your eyes.
It’s not going to work anymore.
You’re like a fuckin bloodsucker!!!...you need someone to cling onto, to dig your long pointed vicious red nails into and now that we can see right through you, you’re scared!..
You’ve been scarred, we can tell, but so have we.
It’s just that we don’t catwalk around parading our scars like medals..
I know what it feels like, to crave attention..
But there’s a fine line between lusting after attention, and being a whore.

Prance in fronta your mirror ballerina
Do you hate yourself too?

Are we more alike than we seem?
That’s what really scares me to death.
I see me in you.
In the way you need people to prove to yourself that you’re real.
And the way it’s all about you.
So now it’s all about me too, isn’t it?

Cry
All you’ll get, is pity.
Not love.
Pity.

Keep your ‘expensive’ waistcoats to yourself.
When you’re flailing around in the chaos you created,
You’ll need a straitjacket to hold you in.
No, you’re not anorexic.
You just don’t eat.



(This is a rant. If any of you know who I’m talking about, keep it to yourself. It might even be you. Or me. I needed to kill the bitch in my system.)

So..

So,
I have this theory about teenage relationships where we fall in love with the idea of love, of being in a relationship, of being exclusively cared about and held and trusted and desired and having someone who is yours alone and ‘loves’ you not because he has to but because he wants to.
We don’t really fall in love with the person.
Dangerous, isn’t it?
When reality finally strikes?
Like a punch in the stomach… creating a void that was never meant to exist… the destruction of a figment of imagination… snatching you away from the fantasy you created to make you feel like you mattered in the greater scheme of things…
You don’t.
And the fact that someone else lusts you, fails to prove otherwise.
So,
I want to experiment. If we take away the physical aspect of a relationship, we’re left with someone who openly admits to caring about you, someone who reciprocates you advances- be it by messaging you, calling you, making sure you’ve survived every step of the day, someone who is happy to see you…
Isn’t that plain pure friendship?
So,
When does the intangible line between friendship and a relationship get fucked up?
One little soul surrendering kiss?

We choose to be owned and to possess


“Because we need a witness to our lives.”

*gargeous*

(i love you alot.. and i want you to be safe and happy but as we know ... "there is no guarantee". Now that you're in the game.. stay safe.)


There’s this picture of us… you n me... and it’s gorgeous.
We’re laughing and posing and flirting with the camera
You’re wearing that green tee that you used to stink in.. the one that said “single” and im wearing a layer of crazy clothes as usual..
Pink shirt black tee jhataak pink band and we’re standing with our arms around each other… best friends… we look so perfect.. you with your silky brown hair and green eyes and me with my pout and chocolate skin.. like we were meant to be.
It’s scary how things change.
One minute we’re playing with barbies and the next, we’re playing with boys.

I wanted the fairytale to come true for you.
You were our princess trapped in the tower awaiting your knight in shining armour.
Not this.
Not him.
It’s changed.
The dice has turned.
I wish you luck.

May you live happily ever after.

Beast

(One of my worst.. just felt like it though.. took the plunge.. sunk.. don't even bother reading it.)

‘They’ said she had everything..

The beauty, the brains

And The beast.

She knew the beast was hers.
He lived with her, in her head
Shadowed her every move spoke her lines
Snatched her better Kissed her worse
Sapped her strength

But all ‘they’ saw was the polished surface
Reeking of lustre and fluidity
Everything they’d ever wished for
Themselves as a child
Perfection

If only they knew
Perfection comes with a price
Control
You lose it.
The beast owns you now.

Truly beauty and the beast
The only fairytale that came true.