Blood on the ground
I need to rebound

Blood I remember
Frozen in December

Blood on the street
Don't let this repeat

Blood on my knee
I miss the old me

Blood has gone dry
There's no need to cry

Blood has turned blue
Reborn, I'm brand new

-

Making Mistakes by Ines Rose is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

I found out recently that I am different
Hopelessly different from people I meet

All my life I've been a misfit
Unable to properly please

Pleasing to some, my knowledge is infinite
Uneasy to some my gaze to meet

How hopelessly lonely this life is, isn't it?
An INTJ female overcoming constant defeats

Present is a 'Gift' of Today
That's why its a Present!
Leaving the past & stop worrying of future,
Be in the 'Now' and
"I Am" will take care of the rest,
Be in the Present.

With the passing days getting mature and
Exploring by gaining wisdom,
Remember the universal wisdom always guides,
Exploring the self is the Best exploration I can say
Even better than mining or any archaeological excavation,
I say.

So celebration of each moment,
Will give you wings rather than
Sipping an energy drink(one of my favourites),
Claiming to give you wings.
Its the moment which gives you high,
Go with the flow &
I don't know why!!

Simply mesmerize, falling into depths
And keep on going deeper & deeper within,
That's also a way in which,
A business model canvases itself to BLOOM.

Getting little philosophical,
Just came into me today.
And I am originally yours,
Like these quotes.
Laughing at life's absurdities,
Exploring the silence leads to celebration.
Say to self  'I am Bliss',
See the wonders happenings,
The transformation,
Where law of attraction works.

Cheers to Life!!!!
- Aditya Karnik

We stood in silence
Staring at the water
That sparkled, black
Far enough away that I knew
It matched that sparkle you held in your eyes
The one you held from other people
The one that needed hours and hours
Of seemingly pointless conversations
Of my tired serenades
Of laughing arguments and long messages
Of silences that bettered us
We were so high up, see
The wind didn't even reach us
On the balcony of the building
You know you can't afford to live in
We stood in silence
Admiring the feeling
Of being overcome by wonder
Overcome by patience
And overcome by comfort
Over black, sparkling water.

The keys. The keys are on the kitchen table.
The car. The car is parked just outside.
My bag. I've packed it with clothes, not much else.
Money. Not a lot of it, but probably just enough.
My phone. In my pocket, turned off.

Is it really just these things i need, to run away from this place?

Leave my life behind fly out wide, deep in space.
Running away, leaving all the challenges I face.

Would it really be that easy just to leave this place?

In a metaphorical prison, surrounded by concrete walls. It's lucky that my mind's ever seen sun light at all. I mean physically the door's right there but mentally I continue to stall.

Why? Why do I stay, looking out the window through the bars? Dreaming of a life I'll never have from afar.

I never understood why the caged bird sings, i mean what does it have to sing about? Locked in a cage, alone with my thoughts, I begin to shout...

I AM NOT A CAGED BIRD! Please let me out?!

I could open the door, but I'm fighting in my mind,
part of me says that it's nice here, the other part knows this is just irrational fear.

So grab the I keys, open the door, I feel as though I'm ready to explore.

I wonder....will I ever miss the cage I lived in before?

Sometimes the kitchen is on fire before you even turn on the stove.
and maybe it's a small fire,
one you never saw coming.
maybe your absentmindedness caught up with you again and you put foil in the microwave.
maybe no one was there to remind you that sometimes looks are deceiving.
maybe you got used to holding the knife wrong.
which would explain why you found it in your back so many times when all you were trying to do was cut the fat off of his steak.
you just wanted to cut off the parts he never liked.
maybe you weren't holding a knife at all.
maybe that's why his lips bled every time he spat out "I love you too" after a fight.
maybe that was your first mistake.
or maybe your first mistake was trying to use the stove in the first place.
they're dangerous,
and your mom never liked you to do unnecessarily dangerous things.
but where is the line for things that have become necessarily dangerous?
and when did you cross it?
This isn't a metaphor.
I really am afraid of being burned.
I never go out into the sun for too long.
I keep my curling iron on the lowest setting.
it wasn't until you came along that I got in the habit of forgetting such fears.  
Now I have these reckless tendencies.
I'm no longer satisfied with my tan until I can feel the sun poisoning boiling in my skin.
Suddenly my hair no longer curls on the lowest setting, only at 450 degrees.
and I never bother turning it off.
It has an automatic setting.
or maybe you became the automatic setting
when I stopped loving myself to love you
and maybe now that you're gone it doesn't bother me that this setting is gone.
maybe it doesn't bother me if my house goes up in flames.
maybe I'm not afraid of being burned
because the fire never burned me
as bad as you did.
and I just can't seem to remember what is real
and what is simply a figment of you.
I can remember the way the flames felt as they brushed my face,
but never your fingers.
So maybe that is the line where playing with fire becomes necessarily dangerous.
Tell my mom I crossed it years ago.

The road beyond is
Long, and untraveled.
Empty, barren,
And I step forward.

Cold and damp at my bare feet
But determined to find my way,
I continue.

Every step,
Painstaking.
Every time I stumble,
Heartbreaking.

I keep going.
Rocks and rough ground
My feet begin to bleed.
But I must walk this road.

I reach the end and look back.
Avast mountains and lakes,
There lies the beginning of the road at the horizon.

Miles I've come,
And all too soon I could fall,
But I grasp your hand as you pull me
Over this railing,
And save me from falling again.

She didn't know why
but within the simple act
of a man taking off his belt
lay all the terrors in the universe

   But one day
this woman
she refused to be afraid for even
one more minute
   She refused to give sway
to fear anymore
   She refused to be a doormat
for one more bad egg
in the locker room
  
   She refused
to be
a fashion
accessory