![]() ![]() ![]() My brother cracked my rib one morning and gave me half of his orange in the evening. ![]() Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire ritika jyala the world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire art poetry literature quotes lofi poets on tumblr female artists artists on tumblr cottagecore dark academia light academia writeblr studyblr desiblr lovecore romantic academia history dark acadamia aesthetic aesthetic film movies prose spilled ink fairycore And one day you find yourself begging to a godless sky, begging for a new spark. The fire is never warm enough, nothing is ever enough. The thing about being too bright at an early age means you burn out by the time you’re 16 and suddenly the world around you becomes more gray and terribly, terribly lonely. To raise a child is to be God.īut to be a child is to fall, to make mistakes, to fail. I don’t blame them, having a child to raise is like sculpting a clay pot, you can shape it the way you like, paint it the colour you fancy. My parents expected me to build wings of gold and fly further than anyone could ever try. Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fireĮdit: here’s the visualizer for this piece ritika jyala the world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire aesthetic art hozier poetry dark acadamia aesthetic literature lofi history quotes poets on tumblr jane austen lovecore friends romantic academia cottagecore franz kafka artists on tumblr film books & libraries movies platonic chaotic academia desiblr writeblr studyblr dark academia dead poets society light academia It’s been 3 years since I lost my best friend, lost as in I still carry our secrets in a tiny box but we only text each other on our birthdays. And I wrote a poem that day and I titled it 'The dying of a best friend’ and I put all my love for her in a tiny box with my half of the matching pendant of a dolphin we had and stored them in a corner of my heart under the heading Grief. It took weeks, months- until one day I woke up and I realized I hadn’t thought of her in a while. Movies and books also don’t tell you that friendships don’t just end after one fight or incident, it’s like the rusting of a bridge, the slow decay of flesh and bones and secrets. Seeing her in streets is like breathing in a scent you forgot you knew but it immediately takes you back to a summer in ‘07. We were friends for a decade and knew each other’s diaries by heart, I still remember her phone number and the way she took her coffee. Movies and books don’t tell you that a friendship dying is like the sinking of a ship, you try to get higher and higher and hold onto the rails and unanswered texts, the captain tries to steer it to safety and salvage pieces of two broken hearts until you’re left with memories of what once was. I lost my best friend 3 years ago- not lost as in dead but lost as in we only text each other on our birthdays now. ![]()
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