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 Jan 2014 Colin Anhut
Aarya
If colors
were
drugs
black
   would be
the
only
beautiful reality
and
white would
be a
numb dream
and
pink
would be
a shade of
mold
and grey
would
be my light
and red
would only
scream and yell
terrible
terrible
terrible
reminders
and laugh at me
from the golden frames
of long paintings
and blue
would whisper
a cold lullaby
into my
soft
ear
and green
would be
only a
chemical
and
brown would be my
pity
and be
so
so
so
sorry
it covered me
yet would
remind me
we were
all
a bunch
of
nothings
and yellow
would only
make me
completely hollow
and black
would cradle me
and rock
me gently to sleep
in its arms,
my drug.”
 Jan 2014 Colin Anhut
Aarya
If I could,
I would pick up my ink pen
and drown an ocean into you
instead of drowning you in it.
Extract these rotting feelings
for the sake of your ignorance.
Carve scriptures into each delicacy of your brain
so you wouldn’t have to dwell in such misery every day.
Wire faith
to your blemished heart.  
Imbue purity
to your sullied soul.
If I could,
I would write you through all depths of insanity
without any harm
so that your
mind no longer persists the thought of death.
There was a time I thought you were dead.
Only you were painted red
in a black and white world.
Like you have been walking barefoot on a broken road
your whole life.
Your demons imitate life
And life imitates the demons.
You are the one being tied down by invisible, nonexistent chains.
So unaccepting of help that has come for you
Watch  
the sun touch the horizon
reach the meeting of sun and ground
and
Find further still,
The limits you would like to reach only run from you.
You have such a murderous tongue
for society  
people.
But one day I hope to see you write yourself into existence
Rather than to let yourself drown in it.
Why has you dying become something so habitual?
Darling, death is not a friend of yours
Nor are you a friend of his.
But I know of your frequent dates with death
Tell me
Does his neck feel like happiness
And do his lips relieve you of your suffocation
Now
are you lost?
or are you found?
Do you recognize the irony  
Of the most terrifying things happening in the most angelic places
Charm yourself upon that bridge
Whose lights light up the city in golden arrays
With a glazed look
you’d think.
In sadness seen go by
You are charmed by either war or hope.
These occurred robberies have taken much
But they left opportunity
Important people
And a moon in your window
A future that only you know the ending of  
And a slice of the midnight sky.
So it goes.
Two white strings
Entangled and Astray
Finding a way
In The rose pink light of dawn.  

In the pink light of dawn
The cicadas venturing
Into a new place
For a new journey

For a new journey
A hundred birds migrate
Away from the clamour
Where the sun rays lighten the soul

Where the sun rays lighten the soul
The shadows prove to be farce
As night time descends
The world comes to an end.
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