Sitting in rainy weather
Let soft rain caress your face
While there’s much pain and sadness
All the tears are washed away
Lift your face up, search for rainbows and skies blush of bride.
See the colors of life reflected
In the limit of the sky.
Feel the warmth of the sun
on a life full of sadness full of sorrow.
There will always be skies colors,
always an upcoming sun.
Just close your eyes
let tears fall in silence
Blessings of the rain will fall
Warmth of love will lift you up
Carry you to special places
close to colors, close to light
Closer to God.


Shell ✨🐚

Is it okay if I use your chilli impulses in the flour I use to make my poetic pakodas?

I hope you fall in love with someone
that would never let you cry yourself to sleep
feeling unloved, feeling like a burden

You deserve a love that's certain.

simply awake
No music lulls
No quiet snoozes
No counting naps
No stretching tires
My clock taunts me
No comfort lullabies
No breathing relaxes
Pajamas strangle me
No coolness soothes
No meditation stupors
No visualization sleeps
No position tranquilizes
No supplements sedate
No aromatherapy calms
or finger painting slumbers
I am insomnia’s vigilant sentry.
Where, oh where's the sandman?

Books devour the silence

that weighs down inside

like bright little creatures

they dream and breath

in their cosy little worlds

until each page sizzles

with a human touch

loved sensitivity

embraced & accepted.

no apologies,

only for the wrong
for the right reasons.

october, since.

when will he be well? . . .

will my absence be the cure?...

my distance the anecdote...

("no one can..."
"only i can")

for now i only b r e a t h e . . .

simplify, life.

live. preoccupy.

be myself.
(by myself.)

i will be a stranger for you...
i will make you see
that i am strong enough.

christmas, i think of you.

new year, no you...

when will i wake from this comatose

scale 3

"i love you" in ASL
but you never notice...

words diminish truth. actuality.
leading to our very own fatality...

words, a bleak & silent mid-winter for now. . .

reduced.

anterograde amnesia.

...how i long for a different state
of consciousness...

if i felt fervent fondness, would you? . . .

no...i tell myself.

i preoccupy.

terrified of the outcome...
what is supposed to come of this?
i ask but receive only hate.

"*******...easy."
"you're right. i am good at walking away."

"i'm not going anywhere as long as you still want me here..."
i reach out into the dark but i can't find your hand there...

ghosts disguised as words
haunt me
waking
or
sleeping.

years will pass.
you will return to wellness.
i won't say a word.
i will listen to every word
that falls from the lips
i've longed to press softly
against mine...
only to hear
that they're saying that
they do not want my love after all...

will i want the comatose?. . .

yes...i tell myself.

if i will not have you, i will not have anyone.

i preoccupy;

puffy sleepy brown eyes read millions of pages, beige.
billions of words, carefully chosen.
my feet worn yet hungry for many trails unexplored.
paint strokes left out to dry in the warmth of the summer sun...

you are the reason
i sometimes write two dots instead of three..

i have forgotten the sound of your voice...
but still i remember your caramel hair.

i squeezed your hand tightly
as our lips remained
ever so slightly parted...
sleepy eyes closed..
those flushed cheeks...
i'd give everything to feel warm against mine
once more...

do you remember it the way i do?. . .

will you remember me? . . .

i sit patiently
impatiently.

the attic is dusty,

i have been dusting
year after year.

i will make room for you.

i will love you so hard..

or i will withhold it,
lest you look through the windows
you will know...
but will you feel it?
will you want to feel it?

surviving.
thriving.
surviving.

i hear your sighs...
one look into those
heathered baby blue eyes &
you never have to say a word...

some day,
i will fall out of
this siesta.

bright-eyed,
a euphoric covering yet sadness simultaneously lives beneath.
heated flush yet bones bitten with chill within.

right person, wrong time.

a day
not soon
i lie to myself...

take your time
but hurry . . .
and wake me
from this comatose sleep. . .