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Love or pain?

Written a long time ago, when I was deeply hurt and heartbroken. (P.S Leyla means “Night” in Arabic)

Late nights,

Long sighs,

Dried up tears in my eyes.

All the memories of you and me

And all the dreams that never came to be

Strange isn’t it?

How quickly strength and faith can fade away…

How the past comes back and takes you away,

And you sway and sway and sway….

Back and forth between hope and sadness,

walking that thin line between love and madness.

That thin line…..does it even exist?

Or is it, that you just want to resist,

and never accept the truth,

that you,

you who’s name is Night, the name you’ve worn so proudly in your youth…

Now dreads the night and all it’s pain.

Since now, you have nothing to gain.

No rest, no sleep,

none of those sweet dreams…

All you can keep,

are constant thought streams.

Now every night, you die a little,

your heart filled with love or pain, in triple.

Love or pain,

what difference is there?

When there is so much they share,

In your heart

Or in your mind

Or in the hope you left behind.

Remember how you used to be?

How deeply you loved, how fiercely.

That fire of love could not be calmed so damn easily.

Now all it takes is just one word….

One word, and there it is…the rain begins.

The lightning, thunder, the emotion spins.

And down your cheek, a tear swims…. 

“How could I be so stupid?!” you ask yourself, “So damn naive?!”

“Ok, just breathe, breathe…”

“Fuck it….”

“It’ll be alright, you deserve to the love”

and then you think,

“It just needs a little shove”

You try again. It fails once more.

“I’m done.” you say,

your heart feels sore.

Your mind is tired, you’re exhausted.

Eyelids heavy, pain de-frosted.

You fall on the bed, craving for warmth.

And so on, and so forth,

You drift off to sleep, clutching the pillow.

And like on old willow,

you wrap your branches around something to hold.

To hold and to never let go.

Is that what it means to love?

But what if it makes you feel so low?

What do you choose?

Loyalty or self-respect?

One equals betrayal, another is self-abuse.

Either way, you’ll feel wrecked.

You look at the clock, it’s 2:54.

It’s funny…we never cherished time before.


Another minute gone by.

Oh wait……..

……..weren’t you drifting off to sleep?

Recommend0 Simily SnapsPublished in All Stories, Personal Narrative, Poetry, Romance