The Ugly Desire

Belonging

I let people go while I hold onto things. People drift apart, flowing rivers and I remain a shore, holding onto their fragments. The letters they wrote, the illustrations, the conversations, I preserve them, becoming soil, fertile and fruitful.

I hold onto memories, capturing the person I know would change eventually. Who finds the same person twice even in the same person anyway?

So, thereby, my efforts are never focused on caging the flowing river rather, take a part of it and make it a part of mine. 

Be it good or bad, I absorb everything to nurture my being, to experience bliss and pain, to experience fertility, to experience solitude when called barren.

The rivers become a medium of change sometimes, I flow through them, my silt deposited where it didn’t belong but still absorbs in it, becoming a part of something different yet I remain different. 

I wonder whether my identity of being silt was just an imagination. Being a human, I must be a river, ever flowing, irrigating fields of livelihood, ever changing, giving and taking yet never keeping.

But that’s where the difference came. I too give and take but after making it mine. 

I possess; hence, I belong. I belong; hence, I remain trapped.

Her Life

Her laughter echoed the pain of her cries, The ice melted, she burned and tried. Happy face with empty eyes, Her smile depicted the pain confined. Her words reflected her past mistakes, She vowed to change her dying life. Bleeding by the cuts of their knife, She refused to be called futile. She decorated her old grave, With the ribbons of the broken ties. Rising from the ground once again, Her silence roared the goddess's might.

~ark

The Table

She sat on the table, She thought, she brought meaning to. But she was just an entertaining label, That was thrown away, The day her consciousness grew. She still sat on the same place, Not to make them feel what they lost, But because her identity belonged, To the people with her path once crossed.

~ark

The urge to turn every person in my life into art.

Thank you @wordsbyicarus for the tag.

I have many works that are to be completed and some that I haven't posted yet. I started writing not too long ago but I have a bunch of them that are very special to me.

Here are some of them:

1. The Ocean

2. The End

3. Free

4. The Contract

5. I Will Die Happy

6. The Silence

7. The Ugly Desire

8. Blinded Eyes

9. The War

10. Forgotten Death

Would love to answer some questions about them!

No pressure for tags @ivaspinoza @safiresyrup

WIP TAG GAME

Thanks @agirlandherquill for the tag!

Here are the rules! - post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

° Atlantis

° Festival of the Dead

° 1954

° Dancing enemy

° Flowergarden of the Battlefield

No Pressure tag for @blob-blobsworld, @philanthropicalsundog @pen-pain-poetry @crmsnmth

My idea for the writers that only write poems and therefore can’t necessarily have WIPs: Put in three poem titles that you think are most interesting or your three favourite poems that you wrote

I wanted life to fill me,

to make something of the hollowness I carried.

But life was demanding—

it asked me to fill it instead,

to give my all,

to talk more than listen,

to be seen rather than simply see,

to laugh more than savor the moment.

I drained every bit of myself,

trying to stand at the forefront

of my life and that of others.

Until every bit of life was drawn out of me.

I was meant to be a simple soul,

finding joy in whatever came my way.

I don't know why the world

was so desperate to make me the engine,

when all I ever wanted

was to be a floating boat.

From hollowness to hollowness, I returned,

but now with a deeper yearning—

a longing to exist

without judgment,

without scrutiny,

without every step carrying consequence.

Now, I want to do things for their own sake,

to walk for the journey,

to breathe just for the next moment.

To let myself be filled of life,

Of the moments that don't carry meaning,

Just peace.

Areeba

Materialism is a lie. It is a delusional lie and it should not be leading the culture. Not when we are spiritual beings.

Gigi Young

Yes, I was late. But maybe, It was worth the wait. ~ark

What else should I say?

~ark

.

I think I finally understand The rose's thorns I too want to be loved Without being touched

So I am no romantic flower I embody the stem I want to be ideal And practically unattainable