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curly--photographer · 3 years
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Being constantly afraid of letting herself dive into it completely. Frightened of everything, all day, all night, keeping her eyes on it. Never leaving it alone. The key to her heart… She couldn’t give it to anyone. She was too wounded for that. There in her palms, it was secure, well-protected. No one could steal it from her. She could only give it. Not that she ever believed she would do that… However, one day something shifted. She woke up with a peculiar feeling. Was that genuine joy? Happiness? Feeling the best she has ever felt? Yes, that is exactly what it was. She sat up on her bed, glimpsed at the key on her nightstand. And gasped. She knew. She knew that the time had come. Time to give the key to someone else. And so she did. 
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#art #artist #photography #photographer #photograph #52weekphotographychallenge #photoeveryweek #photographylife #photographychallenge #week7 #love #key #keytoheart #metaphor #blackandwhite #blackandwhitephotography #selfphotography #selfportrait #me
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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Life is short. Smile while you still have teeth.
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#art #artist #photography #photographer #photograph #52weekphotographychallenge #photoeveryweek #photographychallenge #week6 #routine #toothbrush #water #drops #hand #faucet #bathroom #sink #morning
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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You are my favorite,
my little fluffy sunshine.
Seeing you just for a bit,
makes me grin broadly. 
Ever since you became mine,
the day my mom’s friend brought you…
I’ve been hugging you tightly.
Knowing I’ll never let you go.
So many adventures we went on.
So many memories we made.
From sunrise to dawn…
together we were.
You are my favorite.
My precious.
My small happy ball.
My life is getting gracious,
ever since you came.
Remember you’ll always be with me,
whenever my heart wants to go…
You’ll be there, spreading glee,
keeping me company,
by just laying next to me.
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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Children running around with laughter.
The smell of freshly baked gingerbread.
Giggling while trying to go after,
the last piece of the dough.
In these moments words remain unsaid.
We don’t need words,
the windows covered with specks of snow,
we use our joy instead.
Happiness, warmth, and peace, in this unique while,
it surrounds all of us, helps us grow,
when we all bake Christmas goodies.
Genuine wide smile appears on our faces, 
they brighten, glow up.
When we bake the Christmas goodies.
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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What is beauty exactly? 
You asked me this morning. 
And I responded silently…
"This question I will answer with pleasure."
Sound, letter, syllable, word… 
We all know them, 
they create our world. 
From our inside, they stem. 
They surround us. 
Every day. 
Able to make any fuss, 
but also to show love, 
to help us find our causeway. 
Words are specks of dust. 
Magical tea. 
They create potions and spells.
Words aren't just beauty. 
They are magic, hidden in seashells. 
That is beauty, my dear.
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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I see,
I observe,
I shine with glee,
my purpose I serve.
From the above,
silently with no move…
I see all.
Acts of love,
despair or cruelty.
I am the silent guide.
I am the light following you all.
You barely notice me while passing…
but I make sure you do not fall,
during your late-night crossing.
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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You used to be here for me. 
Ever since the day we met.
With laugh hiding in the teepee,
running around with me.
You used to be my friend. 
So many memories we made,
travelled far together.
My struggles away you swayed.
You truly were my friend… 
Giggles, humming songs, goofy dancing,
chuckling during the wild bus ride.
From the bridge far away glancing,
on the very northern coast.
we smiled so wide.��
When you were my friend… 
But then… it changed. 
You changed. 
Fading away you started. 
When talking to you, I was suffocating.
It made me broken-hearted…
you made everything about you. 
Freaking frustrating!
Now you’re gone. 
Forever. 
Cause I realized,
I can never,
go on… 
All our photos,
burned in the trash.
I will never forget those,
but it’s over…
now only a pile of ash. 
Farewell, my friend.
Cherish I will our moments,
I know that for sure. 
Yet… my old friend,
for us, this is the end.
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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I want to touch your body, 
gently caress your strings. 
For a sound so holy… 
even birds go mute. 
Let me touch you, 
feel you, 
make you sing… 
the sweet melody, 
please make this all true… 
My heart goes, 
when you sing. 
My heart goes, 
when your string… 
starts to vibrate, 
creating a sound. 
And all my shadows… 
go away.
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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I open a book,
and instantly…
I stand next to a brooke,
with water so luminous,
I gaze persistently.
Next time… I open a book,
and there I am.
On a meadow…
having a picnic,
enjoying bread with jam.
Or…  I open a book,
and there she stands.
With her beauty and grace,
gently caressing in her hands…
the majestic jewel.
I open a book,
and I can be anywhere.
I open a book,
and I feel the glare.
I open a book…
and I am free.
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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Bumblebee, bumblebee,
seeing you on the flower pleases me.
You are sitting there… 
Peacefully sitting on the flower,
gently sucking the delicious juice,
hiding there from the next rain shower.
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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Running in the garden, 
pranking on the neighbors,
pirates with no pardon.
That’s what it used to be like… 
Carefree,
no duties,
filled with glee.
That’s what it used to be like… 
On the scooter,
driving around,
up and down the town.
That’s what it used to be like…
But now…
It’s different.
We’ve grown.
Childhood is off the throne.
The scooter,
left in the room.
Laying there, 
it shall no more bloom.
Because it’s gone.
The carefree times,
thrown away the crayon,
forgot the bedtimes.
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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Like a cracked wall…
damaged and broken. 
But yet… 
not a word spoken. 
Not to a soul. 
Only resisted,
wiped the sweat,
strongly persisted.  
Against the despair,
life went on. 
And yet, 
after a while…
even a flower started to blossom. 
At the place,
where at the time,
only dust was, 
and nothing to trace. 
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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A single lamp,
swaying alone…  
barely shining,
on the cracked wall,
where nobody wants to follow. 
Seems like it’s crying… 
with its hollow soul.
No one can help it…
she will die alone.
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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curly--photographer · 3 years
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