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hiirraethh · 1 year
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I lie on the cold floor with my dog / sufi bollywood songs play in the background / i am still waiting for that reply / my eyes are dry from constantly checking my phone / i close my eyes for a quick second / i see her / she's so close / she takes a step towards me / the songs are still playing / she touches my face / it's not real, it's NOT real, i keep telling myself / yet how do I still feel the warmth / she whispers something into my ear / i couldn't hear her over all the songs / I asked, she refused to repeat / she asks me to get up / we sway with the music / it's the first time in so long, where the conversation is lost somewhere within the music / we don't utter a word and yet we talk / i hear my dog bark, almost as if asking me to get up / i cannot bring myself to open my eyes / I can't lose her all over again / I go against my better judgement / the floor is getting colder / i dont open my eyes / just not yet / i need every last minute of it / i want stuff myself of these moments for I know, they're not real, they might never be, but they're still mine, to cherish, to hold, to keep / i will wake up / just not yet / the floor is now stone cold / we're not swaying anymore / i can't feel the warmth / she now takes a step away / she has a smile on her face / i cant quite make out, what does it depict / it looks sad, but that was thing with her, she was not one to be figured out and put into a feeling by you/ she was so much more than that / she starts fading away into reality / i open my eyes / the stone cold floor has now turned into soil / i am now covered in mosses, lichens and leaves / i see my dog / i call out to my dog / no answer / I was gone too long / it's over / my yearning for living in my own created reality has taken over / there was never an us, and now there never will be / i was gone too long
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hiirraethh · 1 year
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December 16, 1930 The early diary of Anaïs Nin, 1903-1977
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hiirraethh · 1 year
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Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God [originally published 1905]
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hiirraethh · 1 year
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every day i wake up and drink my silly little coffee while God eats my heart like a pomegranate in front of me
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hiirraethh · 1 year
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the power of wearing a long ass coat. unmatchable
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hiirraethh · 1 year
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𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟽, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟹 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟶 -𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟹
[ID: still, I feel helpless and an outsider. END ID]
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hiirraethh · 1 year
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it's so hard, everyday, losing friendships, gaining more anxiety, everyday. how do people not acknowledge the hardships you face during your college years. why is no one talking about how the two people you imagined to have in your life for years and years to come ahead are now, just lost in words.
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hiirraethh · 2 years
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making a playlist is delicate art
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hiirraethh · 2 years
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it's 2 a.m. and I'm dancing with my roommates on the OG bollywood songs, I'm exactly where i want to be in life right now, happy :)))))
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hiirraethh · 2 years
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as children we were fascinated by magic,
as adults we fear love,
at what point did we forget they are the same thing?
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hiirraethh · 2 years
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Anne Sexton, from The Collected Poems; “Flight”
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hiirraethh · 2 years
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being desi is the ability to rap badtameez dil as soon as you see the lyrics.
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hiirraethh · 2 years
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this belongs in a museum
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hiirraethh · 2 years
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All i said is i deserve casual intimacy, life talks at midnight while looking at the moon, trips to museums and abandoned castles, handwritten letters, deep discussion on fictional characters, neck kisses and random bookstore dates. And, I don't think it is too much to ask.
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hiirraethh · 2 years
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My love language is sending you songs that i think you'll like at random times of the day and making you playlists when you're sad
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hiirraethh · 2 years
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"you're like a person straight out of a book" has to be the best compliment anyone has ever recieved.
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hiirraethh · 2 years
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hey (with the intention of noticing every detail about you cause you're my favourite person)
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