Lately, I have not loved I have not loved anyone but myself. The worry of wanting beyond oneself distresses me It makes me act like a child in a world of grown expectation
Still, the look of his eyes made me no more than a little girl. But the world is beyond playgrounds
And the pearl of my centerpiece made me stand on my own ashes
There was no time nor pain in your house. I wanted someone who asked me to never let go. Not a spouse, A full-time worshiper loved in part-time.
Once you were a given, I’ve seen that I was the sun for my gloomy days The sakura of my February spring There were no more blurry lines from which to be rescued and no longer giving what could be spared
Indeed I healed the heart I neglected when I left for you And when it's cold outside and I need to be cherished There’s no despair It’s not love It's only spoiling for an affair
I always carry with me some rain in the pocket of my pants
To irrigate the yellow meadows of the paths I travel in this world When the nights are not clear at daybreak And its silence almost deafens me I take a little rain out of my pocket And your melody is my only company
Occasionally when I wear my jeans with fake pockets I carry rain in the pocket of my t-shirt A small pocket in the lapel Just for precaution Because maybe today is the day when the skies will claim you back
There were times when I wanted my skin to tell the happy stories of my childhood, and of my present fresh youth Instead, it told tales of strenuous anguish
But the rain cleared these tales At least most of them Now my skin says nothing and my voice chooses what to share
When the days are terribly hot but dark And suddenly breathing becomes the most difficult task of the day, I ask her to rain torrentially
And when I'm home alone reading a book near that small window in my room She remembers to keep me company, She remembers that at two o'clock in the afternoon, a book and I tune in and she serenades to me
When happiness felt like a cool breeze of air on a hot July day I could nearly swear that I saw the tree branches swinging at a melody imperceptible to anyone else, In a language foreign, I understood what it said “ Tilt your head back and let the current embrace you”
Whispering “ Take it in your arms”.
When happiness irradiated from me I felt intoxicated of all passions humanly possible As if the love of Aglaea and Hephaestus had once again been revived
Is it possible? Is it possible? Is it possible for Ecleia to be reborn anew?
In a joyful conspiracy, the skies murmured “Tell me what you see,” “Tell me who you are”
Among the plants of glory, a water drop showed me that when happiness arose at an unexpected time, on a hot July day Happiness had the same familiar features of a once dispirited being Happiness was easeful and disturbingly calm
Happiness looked like me Happy was I.
In Greek mythology, Ecleia is the goddess of glory and good reputation. Her parents were (you guessed right), Aglaea &Hephaestus.
Since my birth, my mom called me chameleon soul She knew I would fly away Like a summer breeze, I'd evaporate Like the fog that precedes a cold rainy night I would adapt but could never fit An Oath Oh Lord, An oath to every distinct color I left in the places I've been with no recollection or intention of taking it back And then, at last, I was assured that this life would never be enough