Beautifuly Broken.....

Her suffering and pain made her sad and gloomy…

All She craved was living, what made her die soon


Her last thing went without saying… The notion that she was incapable of it, could be hindered either by herself or anyone else bringing it forth, was inconceivable to her. True, sitting at this very desk just a moment before – and not for the first time – she looked out in to the garden that was covered with the clothes of darkness and snow, than imagined looking back upon her self : a woman , framed in a window , pen in hand , pen to paper, writing, framed, ,inevitably , not just by the window but by the conception , a phrase, “ a room of one’s own “


She didn’t need a room of her own. She already had one she’d bought it to her self… Her waiting of long years has given her nothing but more soreness, more suffering, she says something he listens something, hears what she is not saying and not hear what she has been trying to say for last couple of years... He leaves her all over again for a second time facing to suffer in pain, in agony , he makes her guilty for everything , blame her for what , to be not something he wants her to be or waiting for him, Wants her to hear in between the lines. IS He trying to take her for granted again, She tries to make him happy in every possible way. Ready to take all his worries with smiling face, u be concerned for them and in revisit they will smack you on your face… Its not about thinking but about looking and feeling .Love is like a bird.. let it fly… free it …He now walks with head high in the air… with proud and dignity, coz he know, in spite of what ever way he treats her or can treat her show will always be there with an open smiling invitation…. But one thing he doesn’t know….. she has learned how to hide her pearls dropping down from necklace..

Her tears dried, or perhaps evaporated…she looked out at the view. She was a long way from the bottom… And than she realized what she was finally seeing-the inverted cone… the vaporous pit with its terraces and balconies and concentric rings for each species of the object.....


It is strange , how things copy them selves against all human reason or intention ,refract into symbols we can make no sense of – derive no truth from –but only arrange into patterns to amuse or bedevil ourselves with how little we know , with how great is our remove from every created thing, even our selves…


So irony really is the only truth now….