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Part of circus

Do you know what? I don’t want to be a part of the circus anymore. Where my feelings are conveyed by an act, but all they see is humour. Laughing loud and clear, every part of my body have contempt within. I fear love will again someday take me from me, and all I will be left is with sorrow and distress.

Why is life so difficult? Why am I always following the same pattern? Where I give myself to somebody too soon and cry over their words. Words do affect me I understand, worshipping them led me to a different self. They affect me in a way that I lighten up when used with glitter and smile, I maim when used with rage in the eyes.

But when I talked to him I felt a sensation that he’ll believe in me, here am I standing alone again thinking I am so easy. To get, to be, to have, where is every mastery gained from the history. I don’t want history to repeat itself, I don’t want to be a part of a circus anymore.

-Riya Shah

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You shouldn’t let them in

You shouldn’t let them in, even when they knock on the door,

in the nights when they feel alone.

Why do you feel so insecure about your dwelling?

Why does the admiration they have for you, for you is a sense of satire?

Is it bitterness you held for yourself but couldn’t show,

or is the fear of getting hurt again?

With the clouds above, that have resentment for love,

crying over things that are out of control,

slipping from the hands of everybody beloved.

If the fear of having is letting you

close your doors made out of every damage in the past,

I want you to not let them in, even when they knock on the door.

-Riya Shah