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Open Hands

You always wanted more.

You wanted more from my hands

Wanted them to draw constellations on my own back and solve 1000 piece puzzles to put yourself together.

You wanted more from my hands

You wanted them to hold your entire universe and spin it around like a disco ball till it made your head dizzy

You wanted me to trade my trembling hands for something safer

You complained that they tainted your pounding heart

You complained that they held it so tightly, it almost stopped beating

You complained that they weren’t soft enough even after I  plastered it with bubble wrap.

It took me 4 months and 16 days to realise you had already given your heart to someone else for safe keeping.

I was just your convoy.

 

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

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Author:

I stare at walls hoping that something would guide me to another dimension where everything makes sense. I take life as it comes. I reside in which is now known to be the fastest growing city in the Middle East, Dubai. Surrounded by fake greenery and dusty air, I long for rain. I long for rain to drench my very being, untill i feel nothing but clean and revived. I dream of happy things and i know for certain that Peter pan and pixies and fairies and Santa exists. I know. Because theres no point in not believing. Im a child. I am a grain of sand. I am a speckle of dust in this polluted world. I am a spirit roaming the end of the earth, trying to find that wall. (Read the page Painted shadow for details)

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