Café glacé🧋✨
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314
Maybe I'm not meant to feel this yet. Or maybe this bottle was never deep enough for what I needed to drown.
314
But with every sip, I remembered sharper. The silence in my own head. The weight in my chest.
314
اون بیرون یه سنگ قبر به اسم تو هست، من به چیز بیشتری برای یادآوری همیشه و هر لحظه دی ماه ندارم.
گردنبندی که برام خریدی دور گردنمه و دلم برات خیلی تنگ شده.
314
but loving you from nowhere near you feels like being homesick for a country that has forgotten my name.
314
but loving you from nowhere near you feels like being homesick for a country that has forgotten my name.
314
but loving you from nowhere near you feels like being homesick for a country that has forgotten my name.
314
I reach out into the room and my fingers close on nothing. where are you? how can you be the love of my life, the absolute center of the world, the clay I was carved from and simultaneously be nowhere? how can someone exist so entirely inside my chest and yet be nowhere in the physical air I am trying to breathe? I am gasping for air that feels empty without your scent in it. this crave, this desperate, clawing yearning. it is not just that I miss you. it is that half of my spirit was buried in the ground the moment you walked away. I am a hollow shape walking around in the aftershocks of a ruined world. aren't you still the love of my life? you are. that is the cruel part. my heart has not received the news of your disappearance. it keeps making room for you, keeps saving you a seat in every tomorrow. I know you are somewhere under this same enormous sky, but loving you from nowhere near you feels like being homesick for a country that has forgotten my name.
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شیک پروتئین نارگیل شکلات به همراه کروسانعلی چون من نشستم پشت لپ تاپ به کارام برسم بالاخره.
314
And when I sit still and glance at my reflection in the windowpane, there's this unwavering fear that consumes me. For what if I never have a breakthrough or that I fail to break the generational cycle? And therefore, years down the lane, all that constitutes of my mundane would be wishing that I'd done things differently or did something that I was passionate about. Then, will I falter and slowly let the regret eat me whole as I let the spark in me drown beneath the weight of what could have been?
