And one day, when those people are gone and that moment means nothing to anyone else I hope you remember that there was once someone who trusted you enough to call you family.
I hope you remember how easily you threw that away.🗝️
meanwhile i am learning that being talked about is not the same thing
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They built versions of me
out of rumors and boredom,
painted me in colors I have never touched
then stood back
admiring the monster they invented.
people wear clean faces
while carrying mouths full of rust.
﴿فَصَبْرٌ جَمِيلٌ ۖ عَسَى اللَّهُ أَنْ يَأْتِيَنِي بِهِمْ جَمِيعًا﴾.
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أخِذهِن مِني إلَك مَاريدهن رَوح
اعتِذاراتَك وَرا السَويتَه متفَيد
"فَكم مِن كلام ظلَّ في القَلب كامِنًا ... وكم مِن عُيونٍ بالكلام سَوابقُ"
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متىٰ نَلتقي ؟
بعد عامٌ وحَرب
ومتىٰ تنتهي الحَرب ؟
حين نلتقي
- محمود درويش -
They spoke of me.
but never to me.
and that alone
tells the entire story.
But I hope the words they said
will be engraved in their eyes.
Not mine.
Theirs.
by people who never even held my soul long enough
to know its shape.
if the words you spoke
appeared on your skin, would you still look beautiful?
Eventually, even if I am a Brand New Person, I will make the Same Old Mistakes. So the Borderline is: Breathe Deeper because the Less I Know, The Better; dont be Lost in Yesterday. My advice is: Let it happen.
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