cinnamonxx01

[cinnamonxx01]

my mother tongue is as despair as I am demanding to be felt as the stories roll down from generation to another sometimes a better version sometimes a worse for the lessons to be learnt for the horror to drain your blood all into the popping veins and trembling instincts I put my horror in some other language in some other way

wrapped in between sweetness feeding one by one. I could keep my diaries open a wide and no one would understand

[cinnamonxx01]

It's been long since I read a good book. Any recommendation?

[cinnamonxx01]

I'm back to see where I left this account:))

[cinnamonxx01]

This week in girlhood I visit my old journals again trying to find the pieces of me that I've started to forget. This week in girlhood I sob a little hovering over the idea if I'm enough, if I'll ever be. This week in girlhood I sacrifice my plate of food unwillingly and tell lies about how cakes haven't been treating me good recently. I get upset and sew my mouth, for I don't wanna bleed my heart out.This week in girlhood I hold onto my silence, hoping it will shield whatever's left of me.

[cinnamonxx01]

You see the shade of sky that is bright blue on a really sunny day, and crimson red cheeks and squinted eyes and not a single leaf flying, It just makes me anxious of how time just slipped from my hand, how I'm not the 15 year old playing with flowers.And how all the time that passed through me just like everything else that I love (without staying for enough time), But then no Amount of time is really enough for me. Everything is a tapestry of memories that feels too surreal to be mine. I feel like even the stars have dim their lights for the girl who dreamt of world is now afraid of life, yet some days it thrills me that something is awaiting me. Good or bad, or happiness or sadness or grief and the moments ready to be unfold into memories. I know the homeland of this bittersweet feeling that keeps cloaking its way into my heart. I'm already missing the moment that still hasn't passed.

[cinnamonxx01]

I'm perhaps made of broken dreams and broken hope and words lingering in the air for too long before I bury them back in my heart and protests that die even before giving birth to this voice and complaints and complaints and love that hasn't find it's home yet and all the things that I loathed but they were somehow part of women hood and this aching silence running in my veins I've inherited this grief, and these tear stained sheets And this fleeting happiness that leaves me with longing of things that aren't my destiny

-Meena H.

[cinnamonxx01]

You know the worst part is seeing the people you love turning to the darkness, of seeing them getting fed up with life and presenting them silly little reasons for how life is bearable, how some little things make it beautiful. See the sunsets will Color in all the empty spots in your heart, my hands will fill in the spaces between your hands. you cry about how you don't mean anything to anyone while I've been telling you my life is colorful with your presence, how everything feels serene, how our silly little conversations keeps me going.I'll tell you in all the languages how I love you and I fear you'll still give thousand reasons of how this emptiness is eating you up. You sometimes tell me how everything is beautiful with me but somewhere somehow things are always messing up and playing with your head, and perhaps you don't know what you're doing wrong but maybe you need to love yourself, more than idea of how maybe death will set everything right.

-Meena H.

[cinnamonxx01]

what could possibly go wrong? But in my hands everything does. What are these dreams if not an excuse to make to another day, another week, another month. Days merge into one another and I wonder about my life's purpose.In my dreams I don't have to make excuses for how I'm lacking behind things. This tiredness of not knowing what to do is taking me no where and I'm in the middle of the crowd that is just passing by me.

[cinnamonxx01]

This week in girlhood I visit my old journals again trying to find the pieces of me that I've started to forget. This week in girlhood I sob a little hovering over the idea if I'm enough, if I'll ever be. This week in girlhood I sacrifice my plate of food unwillingly and tell lies about how cakes haven't been treating me good recently. I get upset and sew my mouth, for I don't wanna bleed my heart out.This week in girlhood I hold onto my silence, hoping it will shield whatever's left of me.

[cinnamonxx01]

if my art imitated my life, my canvas would look like a pool of blood, like pomegranates smashed beneath the heavy steps, everything red that I despised only to find more of it in my life, like the rage in the shades of wound on my arm, like the love that was never really found. my words always precise and calculated and soft like the Whisper's from your favorite song, I'm both red and blue like a raging fire and water cool. tell me am I still a monster I don't hurt people like they always do. tell me am I a monster I've been cruel to myself.

[cinnamonxx01]

I'm my mother's daughter and so I don't know how to let this grief out but by loosing myself in mundane tasks. Do people count silly answers for questions like how's adulthood going? I wanna say I've learned to cry without tears. I never wanted to become a home to loneliness, but mother tells me how we should always welcome guests. This loneliness is too like her, always screaming but in silence.Someday, when I'll feel courageous, I would like to be a little rebellious, I'll leave everything that feels homely, I'll leave everything that has ever hurt me.

-Cinna.monxx

[cinnamonxx01]

you'll love like it's the end of the world and you'll see things in a way you never did before and you'll laugh the most hearty laugh because your world didn't end at 18, because what made you thought going on a different way will not be worth it? You'll make and loose friends and cry like a baby again, stare at moon every night and swing in between these times, because that's how it is, to love is too loose, but it's still love, and you'll keep on loving and living.

-MeenaH.

[cinnamonxx01]

what destiny ahold us?

what destiny ahold us? perhaps sour sweet oranges or grief toasted with Apple jam, perhaps sun bathed mornings that hits perfect on a cold day or perhaps the dark nights that seems endless, perhaps a heart that holds or the hands that remain empty, life spares us either or consume us whole or maybe an in between moments of everything I wanted and everything I didn't.

-poetry dump from an old journal:)

[cinnamonxx01]

"I'll peel oranges for myself and makeup for all the awful things I did to my own self"

[cinnamonxx01]

A home in ashes

I try to find a home in everything despite that it's some how always burning, sometimes I wonder if our diaries could speak, loudly the things we never did.I'm still a wanderer, looking for home, where I'm wanted and not controlled.I'll speak to you in shades of yellow and forget that it's the color of fire. I'll spin tales of wonder where sadness finds no place to dwell.I'll hang memories on walls and cry behind the locked doors.I'll find a home that too is burning and try to save it again for one last time.

[cinnamonxx01]

A kind love

maybe there's love out there that is kind and gentle and feels warm and taste like honey and not the slamming doors and apologies dropping here and there and tears that dries before they're allowed to make their way out and screams and fear of being left behind in the hurry.maybe there's a love out there that feels like sunlight melting into the skin.maybe there's a love out there that is kind and not violent like the knives.

[cinnamonxx01]

Whispers of Remorse

The blood drips in my throat why else would i hate how my mouth tastes of hatred, Maybe there's a wound in there from all the words that needed to get out yet i swallowed them hard. Sometimes i feel like there's a hole in the chest where my heart used to be. No matter how many flowers i grow i just sow seeds in the regret that has no place to go

-cinna.monxx