“The curves of your lips rewrite history.”-Oscar Wilde
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It all starts with thoughts
Delineate and flamboyant thoughts.
Thoughts which slowly trickled down from the tangled mind to the fingers,
Thoughts put down on paper, erasable,
Only from paper.

Words. The process of materialization.
The good thing about words is, they speak.
The bad thing is, they hurt, unintentionally,
Yet with the sole purpose of doing so.
Harsh words hurt a little less than
Deafening gaps between unfulfilled promises,
Just like looks of hatred hurt a bit less than cold looks, devoid of feelings.

And then, words come together to conceive a sentence.
One with a devastatingly beautiful meaning

No two words speak the same tongue.
The spectacular word, richness of vocabulary, admired by all.
What goes unheard is the sobs of the other words beside it,
Which gift the sentence an imperfect completion.
They are ignored, just like obsessed lovers surpass transient teachers.
But they are significant too, just like every person you’ve ever met or ever will.

What we see is an illustrated book.
A family of pages, paragraphs, sentences, words and letters.
And what about thoughts? Look within the spaces someday.
You’ll find them looking at you, docile yet wild.
And in them, Maybe, you’ll discover a part of You, too.

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