Beauty is not,
the way your hair looks
Or the way you smile
It's not the color of your eyes
Or how pretty you are
Beauty is your personality
It's how you treat others
It's about what's on the inside
Beauty is,
YOU

Dear careless whisperer,
Some sharings are dagger-edged
and there is no escape when they’re turned on you
no countermagic for the soul crushing embarrassment
dropped as if from a great height.
Did you hear the gun-shot thunderclap of confidence
leaving the room?

How small I am in my eyes.
May I see me as tall as you do.
My underestimation
keeps me from the gestation
of the universe within me
aching to explode.

Waking up to want to sleep again,
sleep away the pain that was given to you.
You wish for the pain to go away.
You want it to leave, but instead
it gets worse.
No amount of crying will help,
at this point, you are trying to move on.
Move on from the pain,
the anger that has been festering within you.
You just lay in bed, staring at your ceiling
feeling like you can’t win, well guess what?
You will win and prevail
past this pain and anger.
You have to be able to move on.

There is a hollow feeling within us
supressing the voice to identify us
Never has that kept us in loneliness
But had established a sense of emptiness.
Is that the sound of silence within us,
the emotions of our past reminisce?
Or is it the fear to face the future of us,
with the lack of confidence in us?
Whatever be the silence in us, let the hope in us,
Ever kindle the silence with the sound of endurance.

- Aishwarya Sridhar