Something in me is constantly at unrest.
VESMIRHope has never looked the same twice. Pain has never looked the same twice. Love has never looked the same twice.
More Vesmir Quotes
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So, what ruined you? -hope.
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My god! this love it will make a fool out of us all.
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Too many of us have grown up just too early.
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Stop giving your infant heart/ wrapped in blind vows/ white lies/ and a haunted past/ stop asking for love/ if you don’t know how to give any/ stop hurting others/ stop it/ stop it/ just fucking stop it.
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And nothing that will be touched, even with the tiniest of love, shall continue to live the same.
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We are what this world refuse to carry. So we carry ourselves so we carry ourselves so we carry ourselves.
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I will feel whatever the fuck I want to feel.
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A love that stays will always remain secondary to the one that left, but isn’t it a shame to worship that which left in place off that which stayed.
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I’m still figuring out, how to talk about how I feel- which is a lot.
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For once I wanna look back and not sigh.
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Too much of what I write takes me back to you.
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They call my love immature, naive and foolish, as if, wisdom made a better lover out of them.
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I want to know the 2 am you because my love we all are different when we are at war under the sun.
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Whatever I feel is not a choice, but dwelling on it is, so I stand up and walk and walk and walk a w a y.
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Isn’t this loneliness a strange poetry? you want everyone to read, but you are never willing to write it down.
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Hope has never looked the same twice. Pain has never looked the same twice. Love has never looked the same twice.
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You are like a wrecked ship in the depths of the ocean, collapsed and eroded but still, full of pearl oysters.
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Growing flowers on your tongue/ won’t make those lies/ any sweet/ saying that you still/ love me/ won’t make this/ broken trust/ change how it feels.
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These poets and their metaphors lied to me/ you never felt like a mountain I wished to climb/ or a stream I would let myself float in/ or a scent I was dying to bottle in/ these poets lie when they talk of love.
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There is a wild in you which thrives in places and on days, when, even the sun in you couldn’t survive.
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I remember my mother whispering me every night, if you don’t hold that little light inside you, the universe will let go off the hold of you.
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She is the old school hard love, your modern brittle love can’t afford to carry.
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You out of all, have a hand to hold.
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I don’t want everything to be a destination, where I have to grind and reach, O! how i long for some good to come in my way and let me pick it up.
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All this sadness longs to be touched.
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If not love, then we have to survive it.
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