I can't know you
Abandoned
to
this
way-
ward
House.
You move quite deliberate
Now.
As if I'd know.

But I don't see you.
Your shadow stepped back from the door.
I listen but I can hear
no more.
You've traveled this world long before,
any of us.

Before we knew what were searching for.
Or understood what we could have explored.

And now that you've drifted away.
Why I've lost my reason to stay
Tied to this world-
they adore.
I
see
but I
can
hear
no more

A friend can be like the storm that blows everything up, tries your patience, causes changes; but reminds you to be geared up and vigilant.    



A friend can be like the rain that, at the first pour, leads into anxiety; but later on, raindrops keep you calm, thus a friend shows tranquillity upon everyone – serene and happy.



A friend can be like a lightning rod that strikes everyone surprise with annoyance to the ears; but reminds you that a surprise – with all its noises – grants unsolicited bliss which lasts in memory.



A friend can be like a cloud that separates from the others in the vastness of the expanse, and floats alone – the emo, ; but reminds you to be considerate and sympathetic at all times.  



A friend can be like the mist that seems mysterious and unreachable, full of secrets and vagueness; but reminds you to take risk of knowing him profoundly so to appreciate the truth within.



A friend can be like the sun – superior in nature – that can heat up the situation; but gives you warmth in times of coldness, reminds you that darkness would just pass, and that the new morning unfolds soon to absorb your pessimisms.



And a friend is as constant as this – day or night, sunny or rainy, cold or warm, filled or cloudless – the azure that covers everyone beneath any threat, any trial, any worry, any doubt; the azure that holds a promise of watching over you as it did yesterday and is doing today, and the azure that awaits your hopeful tomorrow…



Is that which embraces you under its shelter and defence – yes, the great sky.

Here lies a poem
waiting to be written
But without
true words to be found
we may lie here together
Forever
Never see anything more
than what exists
Or what could be less
that she
Who waits to be?
Unravel.

Here lies absence.
Who could call it fine
When times do not reveal
Any more than mere lines
Striped in time.
This is our life.
This is mine.

This brick.
This bulging pocket of blue jean.
This song player, noise maker, memory saver.
Eternal space.
Secret keeper.
It's my life, this brick.
You think you can touch it? have it? hold it?
Let my secrets run along your nerves and scurry in between your brain cells?
No.
I would rather die an ignominious death and
rot a thousand years in the sea than
watch your eyes scan my life.
Search the deep caverns of my soul.
Watch your heart scream and hear the echoes of blood curdling madness.
Your fingers would burn as
you caress the suggestive sentences.
back and forth and
it comes naturally.
Sad truths.
Depressing facts.
You'd rather pour acid on your
eyes
and have them turn to
dust
than read the conversations,
I swear.
The ability to chirp
and make it appear as if it came from my own mouth?
Ridiculous.
I do not believe in ventriloquism.
Weak images
your eyes cannot behold.
I would feel exposed.
Like "The Woman" bathed
in wool and cloth and silk.
And under memos?
The secret to how my brain works.
Why would I desire you to know the short cut
to my vulnerability?
The grey box to my wiring and the scalpel to my heart.
It's the way my soul thinks.
And you can't know that.
This brick, bulge, memory saver,
it's my secret keeper.
The fidelius charm cast over my own self.
The secret is kept within
the very soul of my secret keeper.
Giving the password up is worthy of death.
You will never hold its life on your hands.
You will never see my
soul.
You will never know my
heart.

I heard your voice today,

And then I missed your arms.