Dianali

Dianali Apr 21

Could it be tunnel vision?
—I wonder,
as I see
they are running.
He kisses the hand
he’s already holding.
I could melt.
Way better than fiction—
Real life romance.

Could it be tunnel vision though?
—I wonder again, on the bus,
as I see
she’s shifting
her foot nervously—
and in a rare sight:
A sudden feet-hug,
his reaching hers,
containing and calming.

Could it be tunnel vision?
Or just a sweet foreshadowing?

#love #romance

Dianali Apr 20

Next picture

I saw you on a picture.
—And for a split moment,
I didn’t recognise my brain.
I programmed it differently.
For that specific task,
it’s usually set
to unpair itself
from my higher conscious self.

My standard policy is:
No empathy your way.

But today…
I could tell.
You seemed unwell.

Despite the damages done,
under your affection dictatorship
I didn’t rejoice.
I actually cared.

No trace of a mean smirk.
I really wished you the best.

Hope it reaches you,
written all over your face,
Next time I catch a glimpse
In some picture of a friend.

#heal #love

Dianali Apr 18

Cozier

It was cold in your dorm.
I choked on my silences.
I felt unwelcome,
and briefly— desired.

You walked me to the stop,
Said I was almost running—
As I waited for my bus,
the plastic bench felt cozier.

#toxic #love

Dianali Apr 17

Old friend

I thought you seem familiar—

I don’t know if remember you,

From another lifetime,

Where you also let me down—

Just gentler.

Dianali Apr 15

a family kid

I am comprised of
endless assumptions,
and small superstitions.
Keeper of traditions,
hoarder of
memory-shaped
trinkets,
deep feelings
and thoughts.
A non-professional
curator of
favourite places and
favourite songs.
I have my mother's
sweetheart warmth,
her tender disposition,
My father's
charming wit,
and noble spirit,
My sister's
chaotic fierceness,
and her incredible
resilience;
Probably,
some other
relative’s eyes too.
I guess after all,

I’m truly just

A family’s child.

A random collage

#self #family #identity

Dianali Apr 15

First love tax

It’s so messed up that every lover
I ever entertained,
After the hurricane of you,
Had to carry an unfair ungodly tax—
The burden of your pain.
Crashing soul-markets,
Until I fully exorcised
The sole idea of your existence.
Thank God you fully exited my body—
For It wasn’t sustainable
In any lover’s economy.

I was going bankrupt babe

#tax #first #love #economy