Saturday, April 05, 2014

some stories i make are made of
stones
and if you know what it really means
you might be poking it against
your head
and when you are hit
you will like it. What hurts sometimes
if you wouldn't mind (the other psychological implication)
soon makes us feel good.
the bad feeling (if you can relate well enough)
does not last that long.
It is the feeling of goodness after
that we are seeking
but the door is there, closed, and if you open it,
you need to show a little puncture in your
ring finger,
blood flows, drops on the carpet of the floor,
seeped and becomes invisible,
and to stop all these, (which you think is nothing but foolishness
a day before that)
you raise your arm, and people opening their doors
like to understand that sweetness of surrender.

and like them, when they go back to their rooms
(in the luxury of their privacy) they will read their books
and say, "that man will live"

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