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Muneeba Khalid

@_themaniacwriter_

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Untamed, Untranslatable.
Baker and Owner at @sweetsandtreatscakes
Writer/Poet 💕
Clinical Psychology Student ❀
Priv acc: @itsmuneebahere
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Űșمِ ÙŰ±Ű§Ù‚ . . . . #writingcommunityofinstagram #writermood #writersofinstagram #iwrite #quotesaboutlife #urdupoetry #urdushayari #urduadab #poetsofinstagram #poemporn #poetry #poetsofpakistan #wordporn #wordbeforeworld by @_themaniacwriter_
44
4 years ago
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Behind the masks we wear, Lies a truth we dare not share, For fear of being seen as weak, Or losing the power that we seek. We become hypocrites to survive, To keep our egos and souls alive, But in doing so we betray ourselves, And create a prison of our own cells. The evil within us grows and thrives, As we hide behind our deceptive lives, And the heartbreaks and loneliness we feel, Are the wounds of our own self-denial. We crave control and wield our power, As we cower behind our hypocritical tower, But in the end, we are left with nothing, Just a shattered soul and a life left wanting. So let us remove our masks and be true, For the only way to heal is to face what we knew, And though the journey may be long and hard, It's the only way that we mend our broken heart. . . . . #iwrite #writingcommunityofinstagram #poetsofinstagram #poemsofig #poems #writersofinstagram #writersofpakistan #sadpoetry #goodquote #poemporn #wordporn #wordsofwisdom #poetsociety #deadpoetssociety by @_themaniacwriter_
25
4 years ago
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How much can one think How much can one feel Maybe i like to stay numb, busy There’s too much to see when you’re mentally free How far can our imaginations take How far can our perspectives drift? Our minds were not made to wonder much We think we know it all, yet we still judge If I happen to have it all What more would I be left to yearn for? Maybe im okay with leaving something out of reach For my hands and mind, feel too small. Maybe I’m all layered With different wants and needs Some vanish, some persist Lingering long after I’ve outgrown The person I used to be Yet perhaps she isn’t gone. She simply became someone I no longer recognize completely. And perhaps the person I long to become will one day look back at me with the same quiet distance. For every certainty I hold today will one day soften into another question. Every belief will be rewritten, every answer revised, every dream reshaped by time. Maybe becoming was never about arriving. Maybe it was about learning to greet each version of myself with gratitude when they arrive, and grace when they leave. For we are forever mourning, forever yearning, forever becoming
 until one day, the last version of ourselves quietly becomes someone else’s memory. . . . . #writersofinstagram #writingcommunityofinstagram #iwritewhatyoufeel #poetry #poemsofig by @_themaniacwriter_
9
3 months ago
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Scroll away, scroll away Let yourself be spirited away, To the highlands of your Favorite memes, laugh and war, A strange but dark mix of humor and scars. Scroll Away, scroll away Scroll past through all the horror Oh and never worry too much my lad! For the reality is what you create for yourself Not what it is really out in this world
 Scroll Away, scroll away Scroll past those hungry faces, those collapsed buildings and nations, Don’t let your fingers slow down, We don’t want your mind to stay haunted now. Scroll Away, scroll away, Oh great! There’s a big deal going on your favorite brand too! A louder chaos, a shinier view, Something thats easier to react to. Scroll away, scroll away, Ironic how desensitizing it becomes, You become tired of caring, Tired of feeling, tired of seeing
 Yet you’re still there, still staring. But you still scroll and scroll away, For it’s not gonna stop you From dreaming and hoping, Even if those dreams aren’t truly your own. Scroll away, scroll away, Keep yourself entrapped in those fancy bubbles, Under those soft, glowing, harmless screens, A world too personalized to burst. Scroll away if you must, Your mind can’t process too much warmongering, Too much chaos, too much dust. Better to stay in shiny bubbles Scroll away, scroll away, And see those cutesy videos, Which AI makes just for you, Watch those veggies or fruits lying or cheating, These Absurdities just keep on repeating. Scroll away, Scroll Away, Now its these Algorithims, Defining & Shapin our ideas, No longer are horoscopes, MBTI needed. But we’re still gonna scroll away For our minds are rusty from GPTing too much Yet we let our brains rot away, Our feelings and thoughts fade away And slowly yet pathetically, We slip away. Yet.. we’ll still scroll away
 . . . #iwritewhatyoufeel #writingcommunityofinstagram #poetry #sadpoemsandquotes #goodquote by @_themaniacwriter_
11
5 months ago
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It is a strange world we live in. With our tongues tied and hands bound not only by fear, but by comfort. Cages we live in do not always clang, sometimes they appear harmless and decorated, woven with subscriptions, deliveries and endless scrolling. We trade the world’s outrage with convenience, The world’s justice with internet speed, Our dreams for brands that promise meaning. Now love becomes a package, experiences are rented, And memory itself is branded and sold. We don’t think, we consume. We don’t live, we’re busy mostly in the act of buying and hoarding. and when fatigue creeps in, we like to call it ambition. We see workaholics now running a marathon with no finish line, They wear exhaustion as a medal, Renaming greed as a motivating drive. They like to drag others into the race, believing velocity is the new virtue, as if running faster could hide the emptiness of their destinations? But what fuels these corporate machines? Lies that glow brighter than truth. They march brands across our screens, appearing with sharp suits stitched from falsehoods, their logic polished and portrayed until it blinds us. They deny our intuitions, mock our conscience, until even doubt feels foolish. And in this sea of misinformation, The counterfeit now shines brighter than the raw, unfiltered cry of honesty. And while we scroll, while we run, while we choke on the gloss of lies, a city burns. Gaza bleeds into dust and sirens, children vanish beneath rubble, and the world of polished tables and glass towers turns its face away. They call it helplessness, but perhaps it is apathy, a comfort etched so deep that we confuse silence with survival. How long can the powerful pretend not to hear the echoes of massacre? This is no warning of dystopia. This is the dystopia itself. A place where massacres are muted, where truth bows to spectacles, where ambition devours humanity, where comfort becomes a leash. The future is not waiting to collapse. It already has. And here we stand, blinking, scrolling, consuming
 while the sky turns red. . . . . #writingcommunityofinstagram #writingismyfreedom #iwrite #poem #poetryporn #freedom #freegaza #savepalestina by @_themaniacwriter_
10
a year ago
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You show up, Even though you’ve been drowning in doubt, Lurking backstage, where silence shouts. This world’s a stage with endless plays, And you, the actor, performs wearing mask each day. With practiced grace, you play your part, With clever lines and a cautious heart. They cheer, they laugh, they throw you coins, Yet still, you play like a fool for this show, Joining crowds you’ve outgrown long time ago. But you still show up, Once burning bright with fire and light, Now you’re just a flicker in wind-blown night. Was it ambition, once so bold, That trembles now, all dimmed and cold? But if not this stage, then where instead? Where do we go earn our bread? To act like grown-ups, prove our name, To chase the praise, grab that fleeting fame. If not this stage, Then where do we unfold the show? To let the world see all we know, To prove we’re more than just a show. But away from their circuses, could they ever let us grow? . . . . #writer #writingcommunityofınstagram #iwritewhatifeel♄ #sadquotespage #sadpoems #goodquote #poemoftheday #poemporn #poem #writersoïŹnstagram #writersofpakistan #wordporn #lifequotes by @_themaniacwriter_
16
a year ago
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Is knowledge a curse or is ignorance a blissful lullaby? the bread is more delicious than ever before— and the circuses, oh, how delightful in their endless parade of distraction we dance with empty minds, hoarding every crumb of illusion, each moment a fragile glass bubble awaiting a gust of harsh awareness to shatter our delusions above, powers build thicker walls with accountability and fear, protecting their dominion while we, with our animal instincts, are shackled by the very truth that should set us free darwin was right, they say— the fittest survive, yet they never knew the art of enslaving hearts with promises of eternal delight in the end, we remain lost in our own mirages, believing in forever while embracing the temporary in the carnival of our own creation but how long will you let the sweet delusions of distraction entrap you, before you shatter these thick, seductive bubbles of pleasure? when will you dare to confront the raw, unyielding truth, the harsh reality of our crumbling world? by @_themaniacwriter_
15
a year ago
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In the grip of endless demands, you slowly fade away, Burdened by tasks that steal the light of your day. You forget to exist for yourself in the fray, Lost in obligations that steadily lead you astray. Each duty dims the spark you hold inside, While your true self struggles, forced to hide. Being helpful turns your heart into a double-edged sword, Every kind act feels like a chain you can't rid of. You spin through loops of sleepless nights and weary days, Believing you're climbing when you're lost in a maze. You don a mask of strength, pretending to be whole, While inside, the cracks deepen and darken your soul. Your tired eyes hide the shadows of unspoken despair, A silent plea for solace in a world that doesn't care. Each glance of sympathy only adds to your load, The persona you wear now shatters slowly on life's tough road. Every expectation presses down like a relentless rain, Until the facade fractures, exposing your hidden pain. Now you stand before a crumbling wall built over years, Wondering where to go amidst your unheard fears. Perhaps it's time to slip beneath those jagged seams, To face the raw source of your forsaken dreams. Though rebuilding seems as hard as breaking free, But within your depths lies the strength to become truly free. . . . . #iwrite #iwritewhatyoufeel #writingcommunityofinstagram #poetsofinstagram #poetsociety #deadpoetssociety #poemsofig #poems #sadpoetry #pakistanpoetry #writersofindia #writeaway by @_themaniacwriter_
8
2 years ago
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There’s a point in life, they say, When you’re lost, somewhere between tomorrow’s worries And yesterday’s regrets— A weight you carry without knowing, An invisible thread pulling you back when you try to move forward. It’s funny, really, how it creeps in During the rare moments you’re not running, When the noise quiets down And you're left alone with the echoes of everything you're trying to escape. You used to laugh at the thought of being one of them, The rats in their endless maze, Swore you’d never be caught up in the rush, But now, look at you. Not even the fastest in the race, Just another runner, chasing something That’s always a step ahead. And when exhaustion overtakes you, You stop. You breathe. You rest. But the cycle never ends, does it? The race always starts again. And it’s not just the race for yourself. No, you’re bound by expectations, too. Others’ voices, louder than your own, Asking for your time, your love, your presence. And you— You who rarely says "no," Give and give until you forget what it feels like to take. Until you forget that you deserve to take. Isn’t it ironic, how you chase their approval, Pour yourself out to be seen, To be loved in the way you can’t seem to love yourself? But who am I to think of me? To acknowledge my own needs Is to risk being called selfish, ungrateful. So I bury them deep, Keep running, keep giving, As if that recognition, that love Might finally come From someone else, somewhere outside of me. I used to think I had a choice. That I could step off the track, Live on my own terms. But it’s harder than it seems— Because the world pushes, And you push back, And somehow, you’re running again Before you even know it. What is this race? What is this need to prove, To strive, to be enough in a world That measures you by how much you do For everyone but yourself? In the end, It’s a race I never wanted to join, A race I never chose. Yet here I am— Running, still. . . #writingcommunityofinstagram #writerswrite #writersofinstagram #writer #poetsofinstagram #poetry #sadpoetry #poemsofig #goodquote #poemporn by @_themaniacwriter_
18
2 years ago
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We humans have absurd ways of thinking, That the ones who imprison us, Are those people around us Yet, It is us and our thoughts, Weighing us down the most. It’s ironic how we're the ones, Clipping away our colorful wings, Some part of us thinks, We don't deserve to reach those skies. It's like we're the kings and slaves, Of the worlds we're forming in our heads, A bubble so shiny yet flimsy, We think nothing can burst it away. But then, reality comes upon like a needle prick, Bursting the very bubbles of egos, we've so dearly kept, We're left we nothing but our bruised self, Lost in a labyrinth, where you in absurd myths delve. But if I tell, Amidst these absurdities we can, Find a truth, simple but profound, That the freedom lies inside of us, And we can break away those chains, That we've forged inside. That the key to our happiness, Is kept within our hearts, And only when we dare to see, We won’t be clipping our wings away, But set them free. . . . . #iwrite #iwritewhatyoufeel #writingcommunity #writingcommunityofinstagram #poemsofig #poemsofig #poems #deadpoetssociety #darkacademia #sadpoetry #sadpoem #writerswrite #poemporn #wordporn #writeaway by @_themaniacwriter_
15
2 years ago
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Beneath shiny surfaces, a layer unclean, Does rinsing it with my tears ever redeem? Or those very droplets are instead, Allowing this grime in me to further spread? Absurd, it seems, how ghosts of past, Cling tightly to us, never letting us pass, We morph ourselves into someone unknown, Bearing weights, walking on endless roads. Yet we laugh amidst our silent cries, Its like we’re a paradox in disguise, Piling up ourselves with worries of tomorrow, Until heart begs to breathe out this of sorrow. This heart, though scarred, still begins to weave, A gentler tale it dares to believe, I’m singing from the ruins of my own despair, A song of love and acceptance, like a prayer. . . . . #iwrite #poetsofinstagram #poetry #sadpoetry #darkacademia #darkacademiaaesthetic #writingcommunity #writingcommunityofinstagram #writerswrite #writeaway #igwrites #poemsofig #poetsociety #deadpoetssociety by @_themaniacwriter_
7
2 years ago
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What if I let my guard down, And you become a traveler of this path, Lined with broken and naked shards of truth, And you being this believer of sun shines, Begins to see what darkness I’m made of. Would you tread on that path lightly? And see my lows and extremes under that veil. Would you go on to plant your wildflower seeds? On my land that has been barren ever since A storm. But what if that storm occurs again, fierce and harsh, And those wildflowers blooming within me die in a marsh, Would you become the one keeping the guard up, And me becoming the one trying to let it down. . . . . #iwrite #iwritewhatyoufeel #writingcommunity #writingcommunityofinstagram #writersofinstagram #writeaway #poetsofinstagram #poemsofig #poetsociety #deadpoetssociety #poemoftheday #sadpoetry #sadpoem #writerswrite by @_themaniacwriter_
2
3 years ago
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