Life As A Writer

Michael Daaboul. 26 y/o from Australia/Melbourne. Digital Designer & Creative Writer.

writing

Anonymous asked:
You're welcome, Michael :) now it makes me wonder.. Just how much heartbreak could a person ever go through to be able to write as beautifully as you do? How many times have you ever fallen in and out of love? I know this is cruel to say, or even think, but I'm glad you've had your heart broken just enough (or too much) because all of it led to all of THIS: your poetry, you words. <3
You make it to the birthday party and you don’t tell her what has happened. You’re exhausted, you just say you had a busy day at work, she will smile and she will never know what extent you went through to make it perfect for her.
Excerpt from First Impressions By Michael Daaboul
Don’t capture my heart when you don’t want to keep it. Don’t consume my mind when I’m not the one consuming you. I don’t want to think about you, when I’m not the one you think about. Don’t let me fall, if you’re not holding my hands, falling with me. Don’t let me, if I’m not with you.
Michael Daaboul
I don’t know anymore. It’s like I’m dreaming, and it’s like I am waking up from one. I obsess so much over you, I spent years pondering while you lived your life. All my thoughts, my feelings and ideas of you in a constant rewind inside of my mind. That’s all you are. A sequence that’s played over and over driving me mad. Exposing unhealthy emotions, ridiculous trickery of a fake fairytale. That’s all you are, inside of my mind; you’re make believe.
Michael Daaboul

It’s always the little things that no one gets to see.

When you have run out of credit you drive down to the petrol station in your boxers to recharge your mobile phone to send a happy birthday message just before it hits midnight.

Excerpt from First Impressions By Michael Daaboul
What if I can’t find you when you disappear? What will I do when my wounds are cut through? Will I become needy; will I become poor to you? If I can’t get over you, am I desperate? Is it right to say I lost hope, when hope was you? Believe me, it’s not that I can’t find someone else, that someone else is not you. If you were to say that what I was to you was magic, when did you see that it was all an illusion? When I was next to you? When I fell for you?
Michael Daaboul
I would refuse to let you walk with me on a calm day when it’s not raining. That’s not emotion. I want the winds raging like they do on failed stars. I don’t want to walk on soft ground or straight roads; I want them hard, winding and steep. I don’t want to talk to you, I want to sing a melodic tune that moves the sea at night and brings lost mermaids to the shore. We have been taught to fear the storm, as our hearts run dry, we embrace the calm and become empty.
Michael Daaboul
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