And It affects me miserably, how I am questioned by someone who just wants to manipulate me into doing something totally selfless, something totally beyond my capacity, and something I am unaware of.
The outcome could be terrible, and they know this.... Yet, they choose to sacrifice the innocence that I carry within myself for their hollowed soul.
I affects me miserably.
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to lost touches and wandered gazes
Words speak, but silences mean. The silences are usually filled with glances and gazes that utter volumes, with held hands and hugs that convey emotions.
It is weird, how on some days the same pair of eyes and the same hugs that once spelled care, love, affection would start spelling distance, hatred and boredom. There are days when we spot stories in the eyes of someone, with deep delving secrets and long lost touches. There is just a lot that the eyes speak about. There are days when some eyes smile a lot but twinkle quite less, not because the dreams have succumbed to a storm the world has to offer, but because the dreams are shattered by the big blows reality bestowed on them.
There are days when some hugs mean the world to us, hold us close and make us want to hold onto the moment tight, to never lose again. Alas, these moments, just like the sand from the beach, the tighter they are held, the quicker they are to lose. There are days, when some held hands mean nothing more than 2 skins touching each other, held together for the sake of it. There are days when the hugs feel like peeling of the skin and the touch they levied upon us, not because we have ceased finding meanings in them.
There are days when the eyes are filled with brimming tears, but they daren’t blink because they don’t have the strength now, to let the last of them go. For these tears, they are the only ones that refuse to leave. The tears hold onto the eyes, because even they have nowhere to go, they have nowhere to find meaning now. There are days when the eyes, they feign acquaintance, when actually, deep down there is a touch of strangeness to the line of vision. When they look into yours, you know, they have known you, you have seen dreams with those eyes, you have knitted your feelings with them; and now all you want to know is that they would someday like to share another dream with you, probably look at you and still shine their eyes like they use to when they saw you at the end of the road, still have the same warmth they had when they heard from you.
Touches fade and gazes wander and then the eyes and the hugs are left in a sudden stillness, with emptiness and yet filled with remorse, sadness, wounds and of all questions.
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