thepaperyonions

Words are never frail. They have all the powers to change the personality and features of a man. The way he relates and depicts the things are based on the words he discovers. At one point where words portray happiness for someone, it also counts for the tears to some. The day we comprehend the strength of words, we would choose them more closely and patiently. Where we would prefer silence more over words. If words are our strength, they are our weakness too.

All she captures is a moment and what she calls it is a memory,Sometimes, it is assumptions that we use; all we need is a theory,Because you don__ know what is there in the future,And all you need is a vision to make a perfect picture.I feel that I have known you for a century,And whatever she calls is a memory.

His pen spoke more to her than he ever did_.In the war of words, some are unwritten and some are unspoken.

Chimerical words, the words were written,Some are wasted; some are still on the page,Tattered words, the words were written,Some are young, some are aged,Gloomy words, the words were written,Some are unspoken, some are told,Words were hurt, though they can heal,Words are breathless, though can feel,Words won hearts, words shattered hearts,Words lost battles, words won wars,Wars within, words had scars.

How might I get over this? How would I be able to overlook the way he used to be with me? How could I overlook that his fingers touched my indiscernible soul before it twisted my nipples? How might I overlook his essence that still is in my garments? Despite everything, I still hear you saying that you love me. Though I know you don't.

In the shadows, we all are the same. Dark, inconsistent and indifferent. And if someone loves you dark, he loves all of you. Because when it is dark, the shadow is within you. It is the light that differentiates us with an identity. It is the light that marks our shadows.Light never guarantees love.

It was the best start of the day. A day started with a rejection. Maybe, by the end of the day, I would spend the majority of my vitality making the thing occur all alone.Maybe, tonight would be distinctive.

Love can be all things.But, Just never enough.

Why cannot you be loud in saying 'I love you' ?", she asked.Me:- It is just because I have got a great depth inside me that will take some time to reach the horizon. But believe me, it would be the loudest of all, anyone has ever heard.

You know what is the problem with trust??It really stops the conversation, because you take the things for granted,Things value less to you because you know that, that thing is going to be there for you, no matter what,You stop talking about love because you believe that you've got the saturation point in your relationship,And you've got her completely,And that is the problem. You don__ own her,Because sometimes love is not enough,And bad is strong to iterate itself with you,It is much stronger to come back.

Red eyes, clogged vessels, tanned cells and septum holes, She came up to me with an ashtray, and a bunch of tobacco rolls,I mean, how can I fill the gap that you've created?? How could I switch the clock back to the past, for the time I have wasted? I have gone a sedate now; the heart has stopped pumping zeal into my head,And for the hole in my heart, which is so dead now, which has run out of life now,I carry the loads of moments that you've endowed.

For one more time, he decided to give away smoking.And then, she happened one more time in his head.

Until I knew that it was you inside me, who has so much to say, I hesitated writing.

The truth is not always what you see. It is about what you actually want to see. You cannot let go your whole life based on truth. Because, sometimes, it is a lie that we count on for our togetherness.And when I said that I do not need you, I actually wanted to keep us together, with that lie.

He was lying there on his death bed, and he asked for her as his last wish.She came with tears in her eyes. He held her hand and said with a smile," I wish I died daily", And then a flat line.

Is there a particular way of looking at your love?_ she asked._..Yes_ The way you look at me.

The world is made out of Nutella. You just need to stick your tongue out, so that you could really taste it.

In the room full of individuals for whom I hold feelings of resentment about, Who might be the first I would converse with, when I am about to bite the dust?