All sorts of all

You were fought off your existence, since the day you were born, your fought by the closest people to you, and that’s all you know about life.
You were given an incredible ability to love everyone, to cherish every human soul, and to give when ever you can, even when your running low yourself!
That love is often rejected, used, misunderstood or even drained and misplaced, you go by everyday with something missing, with a void you keep on filling with meaningless objects and tainted smiles.

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You manage to renew your faith in humanity and keep on giving and it’s a circle all over again.
I walk beaten in soul, and i try with every breath i can to find the patience and the courage to still give, because i still believe that somewhere someplace there are people who deserve even a little of what i got to give, i believe that these people are the reason why I’m still fighting for the real me, for the virtues i was born with.
I’m the kind of person who wears her feelings upon her face, i struggle to laugh through the swirling emotions inside, just so people won’t ask what’s wrong? This question is just a useless remark by someone who is just forced by  the sight of your misery to ask it.
I go by everyday with a moment where i look at the wall of the library where i study and feel the urge to let go and just cry, to admit the big ball of sadness, anger and despite i am!
I look around and i know there is no one who’s worth it enough to see that side of me.
I get up and look around for something to restore peace to my soul just enough so i can hold it all together
Usually that 1st person would be Awad, Awad is the godfather of the library, he is big guy with a slender soul, a boldy who constantly wears a smile so big it says I’m too strong for this world and eyes that holds a great ocean of sadness i can’t figure out, i grew fund of him over the days, i can spill gibberish and he would still understand and comment on, he gives at moments when he is in the most need to receive.

I have learned that pain is of all sorts, the soundless pain, the pain the leaches on, the pain that is not worn apparently but is always there, see the problem is not in feeling pained, the problem is in the sort of pain that’s so strong it can’t be felt, it’s a plague of human interaction, it spreads and detaches you from the ground you set your feet on so much that you can’t feel it’s presence, so the real problem is NOT feeling pained.
Your judgment is impaired and your emotions are as useless as that one shirt in the closet you never wear!

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Author: malak94abouras

i never asked to love the words, they have loved me and i have then fallen

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