History is in the eye of the beholder

If we right the ship correctly
Then, maybe we right our trajectory

If we write the past correctly
Then, I'll bet we re-write our trajectory

We are all pollinators

Is it possible that if we allow our stories to flow
We can change which way the wind blows?

Love me like you did
The night we were in the city.
I'm sorry I won't stop talking,
You just looked so pretty.
We got lost on the highway
But we were fine.
Stuck in time
On the dark sandy beach.
I'm sorry I won't stop talking,
You just looked so cunning.
In the reflection of my memory.
I'm sure you're  sharing
All my secrets with him
Like you have been,
Because I was never enough.
I'm better now
Her eyes are deeper.
Hopefully she won't,
Tear out my heart
And leave it on the floor.

in september i learnt
that the dead lives
among the living but not all
sees

when i was fifteen i once played
the ouija board
i said goodbye but
the spirit never left

my mother never understood my
incessant insomnia
she never saw the dreams
of strangers in my bed

she does not hear the voices
of people long gone
yearning to be heard
once more

it is said that in order
to live
you must first learn the
meaning of death

every night i made my bed out of
suicide notes and
broken bones and
overdosed cough mixtures

i once sat on the windowsill
a friend i once called a friend
helped me tight
while i cried

a love i cannot love told me
not to wake up and
regret
it would be too late by then

this is what i learnt in september
that some of us die in the
suffocation of the
overnight casket

and if i forget to come home
one night
i hope you read the signs clearly
this time

~~

*Once, I was a hard sand stone
Neither had I made a tune nor a tone
I had broken after a strong shock wave
From a waterfall, I had fallen into a pothole but could not settle

After I was moving with a long stream as a rolling stone
Now I have no edge but only passing a phase
A few days ago, I discovered myself as a grain of sand
And day by day, I have been drowning beneath the ocean

~~

@ Musfiq us shaleheen

My son runs, wrapping arms around
my nebulous waist.

"l love you, Mom!"  He squeezes tighter,
as if letting go would be his black hole.

"I love you, too, " I squeeze back, absent mindedly.  (Where is the cream? I need coffee.)

"I love you more!" he breathes, without pause.
He gazes into my eyes,
searching my planets.

"Oh no, that can't be true," I retort.
I forget the coffee, his eyes are starlight.

"I love you to infinity!" he exclaims,
staring harder.

He wants to sail the Milky Way with me.

"Me too," I reply, and remember oxygen tanks.

I'm speaking in light years, and I hope the sound waves will catch up to him.

His face cracks into a million years of forever, before he lets go,
dancing across the universe of our livingroom,
his solar system intact.

At least for now.