there are just some moments in your life,
so irrelevant
yet so vivid in your mind.

a different person,
a different sofa.
singing while sobbing;
tears raining over skin like falling stars.

clueless about everything,
an empty ache lingered.

still.

with her two dimesional spectacles
and security blanket hair,
she embodies the saying -
'there is a thin line between love and hate.'
and now i'm teetering off the edge,
blind to where i fall.
the feeling,
the same both ways.

the past,
a whirlwind of perspectives
coalesce into a tale
some hidden
some warped
some unknown.
humans
so multifacted, akin to history.
i wonder
will i ever know all the sides there are to me?
or shall parts of me too
remain in the dust of what's beyond reach.
an untold, undiscovered self.

the guitar riff
strums my heartstrings ,
plucking and letting go
with the soft unmarred hands of a child.
time turns one last time
before this memory too,
fades
as half of my essence had before.
leaving my marred hand
with no story.

him,
with his hard set mouth
and his innocuous horns.
those deep dark eyes
juxtaposing the soft planes of his form.
unreadable,
yet open to the touch.
he treads on clear water with a vindictive strut
to reach no destination;
aimless.

tethered to a string
it flies,
ever free
into the early hours of dusk.
the blue and purple triangles
merging as one.  

the times of what has passed,
stolen sweets and mirthful eyes
crinkle in the sunlight.
mindless chatter fills the abyss
as the torrent sea laps at the feet
of the storyteller and the lamb.

little boy, alight with glee
turns to his father
but there,
encompassing the boundless expanse
on the empty field,
not a flower sways.

the sea once turbulent, whispers in his wake.

a feeling of mustard
sweeps through me
it's esoteric strokes
cradling my essence,
pooling at my feet,
downing in drowsiness.

   -if sunny was a feeling.