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CandidlySubtle Mar 2020
Oh! I am so bored with the same,
The repetition that makes my brain go lame,
I am frustrated of tasks so mundane,
All my routines are just so plain,

The changing of clothes in the morning,
I draw circles on my teeth--I’m brushing,
The mindless drive to work on the same road,
I am just on an automatic mode,

But all of a sudden there is ****,
And I drop and sink into a pit,
So dark, I can’t see what’s ahead,
No, because I stop caring what’s ahead,

Like everyone turned off the light,
And there is no more color in sight,
The taste of food turns bland,
Can’t even jive to the tunes of my favorite band.

And then I really slump into auto-mode,
Slugging to work on the same old road,
Brushing my teeth from swirl to swirl,
Still showering when my world is in a whirl.

Still changing my clothes at every sunrise,
And then one day I suddenly realize,
As I slurp the milk and the grains,  
There is still a part of me that remains:

My dear routines.

When everything feels dead,
And nothing beautiful seen,
Routines keep me fed,
Routines keep me clean.

When my heart has hit the sack,
My mind saturate with thought,
My routines got my back,
My routines need not be sought.

When there’s no motivation to be,
When I don’t want a thing,
My routines does it all for me,
My routines that cost nothing.

When it takes all my energy just to smile,
And all time is lost in it all,
And the next step feels like a mile,
And moving forward is like a crawl,

I still got my routines,
I still got my routines,
I still got my routines,
I still got my routines,

My routines to take care of me.
CandidlySubtle Feb 2020
A mist clouds over my being,
Saturating the lungs that want to sing,
I feel tears that yearn to come out,
My entire body just wants to shout.

But quiet tears remain within,
With words trapped—a voice grows thin,
What is this mist that surrounds my heart,
******* it, I just want to tear it apart.

To rip myself open and wide,
And hear my soul that has cried,
What is this mist clouding within,
Stifling myself, my feelings therein.
CandidlySubtle Nov 2019
I’m swimming in a sea of warmth,
Waves that rub along my skin like silk,
Each wave a push and pull,
Of muscles being massaged,
Relaxing and softening,
With each wave that splashes,
Sends tingles vibrating through,
They rush through as I gasp for air,
And I breathe into this sea of warmth,
And I taste all of its salt,
Prickling and tickling my tongue,
And with one final wave,
I disappear and surrender into this sea of warmth.
CandidlySubtle Nov 2019
No word tonight,
Yet another day,
I will miss,
And reminisce,
Of what could have been,

No word this morning,
Yet another day,
Of longing,
Of hoping to hear,
From you sweet words,

No word this evening,
Another day passed,
Of silence,
Sinking through me,
Envelop-ing the day,

No word from you,
Now past midnight,
Thoughts of you,
Of you, of you, of you,
I only think of you,

I’m drowning,
Trying to catch,
And slow my breaths,
So that I may sleep,
And forget all of you,

No word at all,
Nothing,
It’s gone,
It’s over,
Now I know,
Of we, that never was.
CandidlySubtle Oct 2019
A puddle of water lies near my feet,
Layered with mud that sink deep,
The water reveals an angry face,
Stirring up jitters from those days,
The mud distorts images I try to recall,
Making better or worse than what I saw,
Maybe through the layers and the haze,
There is a much softer face,
One that I can’t remember,
Because all I see is anger.
CandidlySubtle Jul 2016
Two little cherries
Linked and swinging
Tap tap, kiss kiss
Two little cherries
Cheek on cheek.
CandidlySubtle Jul 2016
A tree stands still just outside,
Cast by sunlight through glass windows,
A silhouette reflected on a white wall,
An amorphous imprint of the tree on the wall.

Much like my memories,
Reflected through thoughts,
The abstract outlines of a figure like undefined edges of the shadow,
The changing colors of the background merging into a haze,
The shadows of movement cast by light from unexplained sources,
Define the silhouette of my memory.

I touch the silhouette,
My hand meets the wall,
I cannot touch the tree at all,
Like my memories reflected through feelings,
The tickles from an embrace of leaves that gather and play,
The bits of laughter bouncing off branches, it fades
The comfort of a voice as it echoes upward lost in tangles of branches and twigs
The hurt and then the tears like sap running through a cut,
Are intangible memories of feelings, a silhouette.

The silhouette of the tree,
There is mystery, there is beauty,
A wind that blows,
The branches sway and the silhouette morphs,
Within loss, a freedom that dances and twirls the shadow,
Within anger, a passion runs wild like leaves slicing through a breeze,
Within pain, a compassion that gives and branches forth,
And within my memories,
From the silhouette, from the reflection,
I see reality as vibrant as the tree.
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