Shall I dwell in a blob of paint

Something so fickle...

With flailing arms I'll try to swim

in something so little...

Colored and indigenous 

My thoughts will trickle...

And in this petty vividness 

My eyes shall twinkle...

Till I create a river so infinite

So I never again feel belittled...*

●●●

No one wants to be crowned "Coward",
But the rusty taste that colors 
your tongue after saying too much,
Is not a flavor one wants to have for dinner, either.

The jump that broke your bones,
For just a second, your mind was intoxicated,
And left the control panel to your heart,
But the aftermath is what shall linger and stay.

Maybe it's not about courage,
Maybe it's more than a closed-eye moment of bluntness,
Maybe you like the interior design of your mind, 
And you want to stay there with no intruders.

It was blue

Mingling shades of blue

Swerving round the setting sun

Stray green herbs

Matching the life lines on their wrists

He said, "Take care..."

And then smiled

He smiled the way the sun whispered goodnight to the earth

With a promise that it won't be long till morning

The shore played the protagonist

In a beautiful lie

Bowing to the curtains of sand

Their shuffling feet

The applause from the only interested audience

And with one final nod

Her hands ached to go home

Home to the notebook stashed in the lower shelf of her dresser

To where the pen was eagerly waiting

The pages excited to be ravaged by ink

Because there, between the lines

Lied the secrets she spilt into the night

She'd already written the entry in her mind

But then she crossed the street

Waiting for the bus

Where the real world was colored in smoke

The streets crowded with foreign faces

Cats rummaging around trash cans

Balconies spilling the secrets of every house

Busy lives shouldering past her

Folk music covering the atoms of the air angrily

There was the sickest shade of grey

The one that hinted of lime yellow

That spoke of distractions and misery

That smelt of melancholy

It almost reminded her of cigarettes

The way she needed to be away from it

She held her head low between her shoulders

Hiding away from the few familiar faces

His image begging to be the last thing she sees

The dreamy waves begging to be the last thing she sees

The melodic breeze begging to be the last thing she feels

Before they make it down to the pages safely

Amidst the flames,
The star wailed -

"Fate, oh, fate,

this isn't how 

the arms of the flames

shall flicker off 

my wait."

The murmurs of mortified stars
Blended along the curtains of sky,
Brushing the night with streaks of auburn,
As they shined their goodbye.

Fate replies,

"Tonight,

We shall cover thee,

in the shrouds 

of sacrifice,

Stardust coloring

the elderly night."

With one last frown of luster,
She - the star - found her deathbed,
Held high at the peak of the fire,
And the ashes of the story she bled.

•••• •••• ••••

On the opposite side of the mountain,
The moon sang of midnight on and on,
His words cherished for only one star,
One whom the late hours always adorned.

"I shall offer

my lullabies, your dowry

to the divine throne,

In the grooves

with more shadows 

than light

we'll be at home."

"Under my light

you'll never be dim,

In every galaxy

celestial bodies will bow,

The sky's a limitless 

ocean for you to swim,

Cause the moon

has found a temptress

somehow..."


A view of moths around a flame,
The indigo night turning orange,
The moon's face rendered forlorn,
To demand the news he gasped for courage.

Crowned with dawn appeared the sun,
And all the stars dimmed with fear,
The moon widowed from his only love,
Prayed this morning would disappear.

~ "Oh why ... oh fate,

I demand 

my star back."

~ "The sky shall

celebrate

your little star's

trip to the zodiac."

Replied fate punctuating his answer
With the awakening of the emigrant birds,
All traces of yesterday now gone,
All traces of his star nowhere to be heard.

•••• •••• ••••

Away from the world,
The moon wrote with silver ink,
He sang of the could have been's,
Of his star, he shall always think.

"In my mind

you've build 

your chamber,

For my eyes

you've ruined

beauty,

For I will always 

think of how 

you burned amber,

The whole 

universe now

So empty."

"The night 

inspired me

to become your hero,

During the day

I'd disappear

to chant my plans,

But fate 

made you

your own

Hero,

Before I was 

ever 

given the

Chance."

\\\\\\\\\\\\●●●●//////////////////////////

Amidst the flames,
The star wailed -

"Fate, oh, fate,

this isn't how 

the arms of the flames

shall flicker off 

my wait."

The murmurs of mortified stars
Blended along the curtains of sky,
Brushing the night with streaks of auburn,
As they shined their goodbye.

Fate replies,

"Tonight,

We shall cover thee,

in the shrouds 

of sacrifice,

Stardust coloring

the elderly night."

With one last frown of luster,
She - the star - found her deathbed,
Held high at the peak of the fire,
And the ashes of the story she bled.

•••• •••• ••••

On the opposite side of the mountain,
The moon sang of midnight on and on,
His words cherished for only one star,
One whom the late hours always adorned.

"I shall offer

my lullabies, your dowry

to the divine throne,

In the grooves

with more shadows 

than light

we'll be at home."

"Under my light

you'll never be dim,

In every galaxy

celestial bodies will bow,

The sky's a limitless 

ocean for you to swim,

Cause the moon

has found a temptress

somehow..."


A view of moths around a flame,
The indigo night turning orange,
The moon's face rendered forlorn,
To demand the news he gasped for courage.

Crowned with dawn appeared the sun,
And all the stars dimmed with fear,
The moon widowed from his only love,
Prayed this morning would disappear.

~ "Oh why ... oh fate,

I demand 

my star back."

~ "The sky shall

celebrate

your little star's

trip to the zodiac."

Replied fate punctuating his answer
With the awakening of the emigrant birds,
All traces of yesterday now gone,
All traces of his star nowhere to be heard.

•••• •••• ••••

Away from the world,
The moon wrote with silver ink,
He sang of the could have been's,
Of his star, he shall always think.

"In my mind

you've build 

your chamber,

For my eyes

you've ruined

beauty,

For I will always 

think of how 

you burned amber,

The whole 

universe now

So empty."

"The night 

inspired me

to become your hero,

During the day

I'd disappear

to chant my plans,

But fate 

made you

your own

Hero,

Before I was 

ever 

given the

Chance."

\\\\\\\\\\\\●●●●//////////////////////////

"A bruised and battered earth,
We smoke cigarettes made of dirt-"

✒
-*Stop would you, you're dripping your black ink all over the place,
I'm sick of your pessimism, I'd like to see some change!

= oh but what if I don't know how! 
Life is seeping like a muffled sound!

- And again you go with your recycled words,
Stop looking from this narrow corner at the world...

= Narrow corner! It ain't narrow anymore...
If you watch the news, you'll see death delivered at doors!

- Then maybe stop, change the ****** channel!
Your negative energy is changing nothing for the better.

= So I should close my eyes, I should count the sheep,
Should I be thirsty for more blood to be smeared?!

- Facebook is messing with your head...

= Rivers are turning red!!

- I don't feel like writing more of this.

= So I should order my rage to get some rest?!

- . . .

= I'm afraid it's not an easy request..

Peace won't suddenly overflow, if I count to ten.

- I'm afraid I'm of no use, I can't change the world, I'm only a pen...

In the depth of winter,
the splash of cars,
Mud collecting
in the leg of my favorite jeans,
I wrap my jacket
around me tighter,
And the let it hug
my frozen torso and fraying dreams.

Starry night playing
on each of my eyelids,
A whimsical fantasy
unlike the fog in my skies,
Oh how predictable
the end of the road,
Yet scary the ruffle
of the morning after each night.

And I can't help
but radiate this coldness,
That stirs the passerbys away
as they shoulder past,
Ice continues to collect
under my fingernails
Who'd wanna shake hands
with those glacial hands?

I plead with the rainman
residing in my head,
And write to the clouds
leaking inside my eyes,
We can't keep warning
people of our weather,
Whenever they set foot
near our arctic pride.

With a sigh, I curl
one hand over the other,
Letting them
lone companies hang,
For most people winter
lasts four months,
But for me, I never knew
where it ended and I began.

In an artificial summer fever, grow young lives down test tubes,
A wide variety of mice to be tested, circulating around a loop.

Formulate a criteria, we want the cupcakes all the same shape!
And if the noise spills outside the peripheries, just use some tape.

But switch up the controllers, let Mozart play some metal,
Eyes should try to keep up with the feet on the pedal.

Each half of the good-evil twins trapped in mind arenas,
Let the villain be the one who tries to change the genus.

And redefine a definition for the concept of time,
Paint the sand clock as a monster who eagerly rewinds.

And as the fever causes more volatility, youth evaporates,
Save the ones who hold it together, they're in for the long wait.

In boxes made for shipping, we export the present,
To the Bermuda triangle where time is constantly reset.

Let's keep the players running, the experiment going,
The local fever is in touch with a bigger global warming.

And for the longest time we'll sell this antipyretic,
The world shall be high on a pulse permanently erratic.

You don't know how much I want to be honest right now,
To show you my hands covered in ink and charcoal,
Take you to the untamable waves where I bargain with life,
And sweetly tell you the tales of my intangible ghouls.

I can imagine you'd be appalled, your features cringing,
But maybe I don't dream of fearless knights,
Maybe I only want you to be the youngest of flames,
To reflect all my unfinished and unedited lines.

You don't know much I want to be honest right now,
To give you the sails of my titanic drawn on a paper,
I'd wear my dullest of my pearls with their rusty chains,
I just need to borrow your third eye, I don't need a saviour.*

● ● ●

You don't know how much
I want to be honest right now,
To show you my hands
covered in ink and charcoal,
Take you to the untamable waves
where I bargain with life,
And sweetly tell you the tales
of my intangible ghouls.

I can imagine you'd be appalled,
your features cringing,
But maybe I don't dream
of fearless knights,
Maybe I only want you
to be the youngest of flames,
To reflect all my unfinished
and unedited lines.

You don't know how much
I want to be honest right now,
To give you the sails
of my titanic drawn on paper,
I'd wear my dullest of my pearls
with their rusty chains,
I just need to borrow your third eye,
I don't need a saviour.

The waves are mad,
They run like phantoms
Throwing the rocks off guard,
While they cling onto the shore.

As if they're avoiding the morning sky,
The sun smoking a burning cigarette,
Still fresh like a poem yet to be
written into the world.

I'm trying to prolong this solitude,
My mind like a used canvas,
Rummaging through the right thoughts,
To cross this stale river,
But they feel like repeated brush strokes.

Never like those birds,
Free with no calling direction,
Every word feels measured;
Not as bold as the ones
the water spoke.

Why does this wet paper
- a landing area for
the stray water drops -
Feel like an open coffin
to every newborn idea.

A sardonic joke played by inspiration,
To lead those unused words
to lay frozen in an infinite winter,
My need to create
an unanswered plea.

Maybe one last look
at the vastness ahead,
That could lead to another story,
Just waiting on the other side..

What would it take
to guide those scattered waves,
and patch this gap in telepathy;
To get this writer's block to resign.*

● ● ●

Tonight, as I flip through the world in the fog of the sky,
My brother's coughing beside me, rolling onto his right side,
We're pulling the bald landscape over our bodies of dust,
We won't be dreaming of fairytales, just of a home to trust.

We drank too many tides, the sea is spilling over our bodies,
One day when our hearts explode, our names'll rhyme with casualties,
Along the tribes we race, at a young age hard we learnt,
That the longer we wait, the more of our memories will be burnt.

It's in black and white, the digital world they're fussing about,
We're in one cell of this universe that seeps no sound,
The clatter from the battleground rivals our ringing ears,
My dead mama said, boys were born to laugh at fear.

Through mirrors of smoke, I think I see distant planets shine,
I write to God everyday, can you patch the holes of mine?
At a tie in this war of peace, they bow down to the lion in the cage,
It'll only ever be a means to end, even our corpses will be estranged.

They only ever see eye to eye and claws to fangs,
Under clouds of fire, me and my brother will dance.

Tonight, as I flip through the world in the fog of the sky,
My brother's coughing beside me, rolling onto his right side,
We're pulling the bald landscape over our bodies of dust, 
We won't be dreaming of fairytales, just of a home to trust.

We drank too many tides, the sea is spilling over our bodies,
One day when our hearts explode, our names'll rhyme with casualties,
Along the tribes we race, at a young age hard we learnt,
That the longer we wait, the more of our memories will be burnt.

It's in black and white, the digital world they're fussing about,
We're in one cell of this universe that seeps no sound,
The clatter from the battleground rivals our ringing ears,
My dead mama said, boys were born to laugh at fear.

Through mirrors of smoke, I think I see distant planets shine,
I write to God everyday, can you patch the holes of mine?
At a tie in this war of peace, they bow down to the lion in the cage,
It'll only ever be a means to end, even our corpses will be estranged.

They only ever see eye to eye and claws to fangs,
Under clouds of fire, me and my brother will dance.

The breeze begged me,

Let me take you away from here.

Bargaining with the arms of my jacket,
And the laces of my shoes,

Let me take you away from here.

And in the eyes of the rising sun,
I watched promises weaving into the sea,
And sipping into each approaching wave.

And I found myself summoned by the breeze,
Forward my powerless feet moved,
My faced splattered by all the words
The water carried for my ears only.

Let me take you away from here.

The breeze teased my line of sight
With a boundless perimeter of dreams,
With each centimeter of my clothes getting soaked,
The bottom of possibilities seemed so near, so reachable.

**Let me take you away from here.

What's holding you back,
Letting the tension in your shoulders string you around,
Maybe dreaming as an action wasn't meant to be earthbound,
We were meant to live aloud and die quietly, life is in the sound,
Every step you retreat, will come back at night to hound.

When are you planning your attack,
In the theater of the wild you love to wear the deer's role,
Planting reasons in the dirt till the mutant rain falls,
Maybe you're waiting for further evolution to make you whole,
As you gather around you the corners of your mold.

Your mind is dizzy as you walk the same tracks,**
Revolving around the temples of monotony,
Getting cross-eyed and your stomach is feeling funny,
Your pack of thoughts forever remaining bundled in a colony,
In your world, the bare walls have never felt so *lonely.

I would rather you be
A contrast to my pale expectations,
Than to merge into
The lowest pit of my imagination.

I would rather for it
To be the absolute worst day,
For I only like things to fit
Into the right plates on my tray.

Destroy everything I thought was right,
It'll be the most beautiful destruction I've ever seen,
Open all the jars and throw away the lids,
Teach me how to love the scariest places I've ever been.

Cause I'd rather be proven wrong,
Than continue this stale truth,
My mind needs a reevaluation,
Before it sweeps away my drying youth.

And in a different track,
Runs this parallel train,
Vision focused on the rails,
To acknowledge a hello refrained.

Blur of Gold

Let the world blur
On the tips of her toes
She will spin and spin 
Till the darkness grows

Hands raised above her head
Shoulders disappear behind her hair
The loud music will mask
Her erratic gasps of air

Dispersed in opposite directions
Every rhythm is so new
In her temporary blindness
Every light is blue

A delirium airing live
Adrenaline looking down a cliff
The only voice is nothingness
Every muscle learns to forgive

Just like a gold coin
Tossed down suddenly
Intruding eyes are hypnotized
A blur of gold is all they see

As if just to teach a lesson
To put the black next to the white
Irises flicker with sullenness
Then dies a vivid light

Meters of cloth
Wasted on the sparkly ground
Paler than the spotlight
Departs the pulsing sound

Lately, all the days have been turning into Mondays,
A job for the sun and a career for the moon,
A pencil sketched world with only shades of gray,
Stuck in sharp angles with no curves any soon.

Now Night is a Canson paper
Static with no signs of life

No room for poetry
nor the power of imagination

It's only a time for hours of sleep,
Eight to be precise

Behind the curtains
Dreams wait for an invitation

So I'm calling for all the stars to come nurse this disaster,
To bring back nights when staring out the window was enough,
I'm calling for them to patch all the hearts that ruptured,
To free those practical minds out of their handcuffs.

With uncareful watch of the hours,
The night spreads like threads unlinked,
Drawing a comparison about what’s more frightening,
The stillness or the sudden shift.

Laying in a still motion picture,
A million frames of the same fear,
A tailored Bermuda triangle where
Life stops but the arms of every clock disappear.

And you’re left stranded,
With the anticipation of every wrong scenario,
So for today you’ll munch on anxiety for dinner,
‘Cause the face of every tomorrow scares you.

Oh how little you can do in those early AMs,
When both of your hands are cuffed to your insecurities,
And the night is there like a watch guard,
Standing between your panic prison and clarity.

And when desperation comes to join you,
It tells you tales of a monster that preys on time
“Never sleep.” It warns. “It’ll take you to those intimidating mornings,
It will leave you without a dime.”

When all of those night friendly emotions gather,
And drench your gut in their cold foreboding,
You, too, become a silent watcher, dissociated from your body,
Awake, asleep, floating.

Your mind says goodnight with finality,
Not willing to futher succumb to the night,
In the morning you’ll find you some superglue,
To hold together your broken promise to always take your side.

In the late hours of early morning,
Precipitations of the day before,
Lay there like caked makeup,
On a face waiting to be deplored.

The sun makes for a good shadow,
Blackening irises, making optimism crawl,
Then when the night arrives,
You see black spots on every wall.

Your soul develops a stutter,
Hiding away in the side of the moon,
Loneliness is not a disease,
It's a cure for a remorseful afternoon.

Down with every gulp of too sweet tea,
Every resentful thought is fighting to win,
Every second hand image
You see in the eyes of a foreign set of limbs.

You're yearning to wipe the world away,
Just to mask your green footsteps,
And when nobody's looking,
You'll bury all those versions of yourself that you've kept.

Dear future self,

On a scale of one to doormat,
How prune are you to accept?

And have you been proven wrong,
Or is it still the worst you expect?

Have you learnt walking the line
Between pessimism and optimism,
Or have you lost your wits?

Have you made yourself lasagna,
Kept track of your ***** laundry?

Eating enough green,
Or still lazy to get up when you're hungry..

Is time as life altering as it sounds,
Or plain old yesterdays that represent nothing?

Have you bribed your lucky stars,
And found that perfect timing all of a sudden?

Are you even still writing,
Or left the platform for greater poets?

Still doing things half-heartedly,
Or finally filled the gap where the lines are dotted.

Have you witnessed a miracle?
Washed yourself of your ever present dissatisfaction?

Acquainted the many selves that you are,
And finally released your thoughts from their abstraction?

I know there's no finish line,
Or at least we won't be here to behold it.

But I hope you're far ahead,
So you can slow down a bit.

Pause the thought in the middle of a free fall,
Grip every bond before it breaks down,
Energy focused on adding the last brick on the wall,
Denial makes a noise louder than silence's sound.

In your firm grip hold onto today,
Stretch the strings till you prolong the hours,
Riding on the back of sweet delay,
Let it take you to the place where you can cower.

And revel in the unhealthiest of routes,
Bobbing your head under the water,
Negotiating with your breaths on mute,
Reality can cough back to life later.

● ● ●

The Present -

She had both arms behind her head,
Her eyes two focused machines,
The soft glow of the lamp light,
A nonfiction book she silently reads.

Just as the clock striked ten,
All trails of thoughts fell silent,
She slept in the middle of the bed,
The sheets smelling of detergent.


- Two Years Earlier -

Twelve o'clock, the digital clock read,
Every light was on in her apartment,
She turned on the right side of the bed,
And stared at the plain cream carpet.

She tried reading something,
But every corner of this place was so unwelcoming,
As if remnants of the past resident souls
Still loomed around, their presence pestering.

With her new keys clutched in her hand,
She so quietly closed her front door,
Once her lungs were filled with fresh air,
It's like she finally reached a shore.

Aimlessly she passed block after block,
Till she found herself in a subway station,
She plugged in her earphones and closed her eyes,
Relenting to her doubts and insecurities in their collaboration.

"Laugh, I Nearly Died. Hmm interesting choice." A voice said,
Yanked from the heaviest sleep, she looked startled,
The stranger smiled, "I love The Stones too, I mean who doesn't..."
She smiled, but it was half-hearted.

She learned that he hated U2 and thought they were overrated,
And that he never slept at night, only slept during the day,
He marveled about how beauty dwelled in the darkness,
And how he didn't believe in coincidence, rather in fate.

At first she was quite, studying his every gesture,
Uncertain of this sudden turn of events,
But she soon found herself relaxing,
Not anymore keeping track of the time they spent.

He commented on how she looked nervous,
She confessed that she has moved into a new place,
And as the stars were lead to be more astray,
They were stargazing at the night's endless race.

The first rays of the sun revealed her lighter shade of hair,
They never once stopped talking as they roamed the streets,
Dawn whispered with promises of a shared breakfast,
But he suddenly smiled once then looked at his feet.

"I don't believe in cell phones, here is my email, do you know how to write an old-fashioned letter?"

He punctuated his sentence with a grin,
And it matched the growing one on her lips,
She was eager to agree but held inside her over-excitedness,
With a nod, she mumbled a yes and took back one step.

Flecks of orange reflected in his eyes,
She memorized their resemble to gold,
And suddenly all she wanted was to sleep,
And relent to her dreams as her reality revolts.


- The Present -

It was ten to six, she'd just returned home,
She sank in her warm couch, pulling her cat in her lap,
The air smelt of her favorite herbal tea,
She heard what felt like the crunch of a paper scrap.

It wasn't a paper scrap, it was something far less significant,
It was the letter, the one she printed and placed inside her diary,
Her cat was the only one to know where the stupid paper laid,
A reminder of a briskly short-lived story.

She detached her cat from her lap,
And detached the reminder from her heart,
It was easy like that, to unwrite a story,
Only in the folds of her mind was it a part...

"Every sailor knows the sea is a friend made enemy,
And every shipwrecked soul knows what it is to live without intimacy."

She hummed her favorite U2 song.*


T.B.C


(Maybe...)

I'm a square trying to fit inside a circle
All my sides are bruised,
My story is now a rip off,
Cause my original one didn't fit the mold's strangle.

I remember when I was just a small circle,
Falling through vessels,
Gushed at by my inner circle,
When I adapted with the world I grew right angles.

Back to square one, I iced all my bruises,
When one almost healed,
I Found my old self,
today's leftovers, and me in a love triangle.

Fluorescent lights showering the room,
As two pea-like eyes started to bloom.
Amazement in the irises of the newly born,
Novelty in the skin she has newly worn.

It's the same date but the moment has changed,
The eerie newness by usual comfort is replaced.
The mind is fighting, racing ahead of time,
Beauty and grace in her features intertwine.

The small mass of flesh in the back of her head,
Her feet moving to a new unknown ahead,
The shade of her complexion remaining the same,
No wind nor breeze touching her undying flame.

I'm watching dreams coming true,
Hoping I might get struck by the lightning,
Or make a deal with the perfect timing,
But here I am standing in a downpour,
And my feet are getting muddied to the sidelines,
Walking backward to avoid the spotlights,
A ghosted smile to applaud,
The mugger of my drafted thought,
Making a home out of recycled art,
Afraid of the finish line, afraid of the start,
Watching dreams coming true,
Rockets launching out of the blue,
And all I speak is rewind,
Cassette tapes losing their minds,
Saying oh I could easily be that,
With lazy arms and folded hands,
Oh I'm so sick of sitting back,
Watching dreams coming true,
That every shooting star feels like a back stab,
Lost in the preproduction of a daydream,
This paper is my stage, the spotlight is the moonbeam,
Till one hand slips open the handle,
My door being open to the world is more than I could handle,
Every word is shaky, every feeling more like a scandal,
As if the world is about to end the next day,
I try to grab everything that comes my way,
As if I could balance two minds in one,
Open the next page before the last is done,
Juggling too many identities in one person,
Nothing is enough, haven't yet found the best version,
But they're fagments that don't match,
Maybe I should start from scratch..
I'm watching dreams coming true,
Hoping I might get struck by the lightning,
But it seems like there's no perfect timing.

I'm an empty vessel,
A reflection of you in me,
Clear the fog that's my mind,
Then it's your eyes you'll see.

I let the water pass through,
Erase the memories I once had,
So I can no longer taste nostalgia,
Only the salt and it makes me go mad.

I used to write and I used to read,
But now I'm an empty vessel,
I drink in the waves you surf,
and spit them in a sandcastle.

And quick to drown me is the sun,
Recruiting the days against me,
They string me along for weeks,
The longer the day, the less air to breathe.

I'm an empty vessel, so transparent,
I let the wall have a more powerful image,
Disappearing into the landscapes,
So my unwelcomed thoughts will be omitted.

It's your eyes you'll see,
Cause for god knows how long
I'm closing mine.
I shall dwell inside this empty vessel,
If you glimpse a sight of me
Just make make a sign.

Why are all the colors becoming one shade,
The lighter and darker tones merging into one,
Same stare worn by different faces,
It's as if they have found yet another sun.

In the heat of the fight, the same thoughts are chanted,
And when they run out of paper the silence is amplified,
The voice of reason becomes a recording,
And the sense of right and wrong has officially died.

And when they turn their heads in that direction,
Why does that make the luster so dull?
Last night on the newsfeed, the minds eager
to grip their north as they scroll and scroll.

So the hearts turn to embellished stones,
A chameleon for when the medium is just right,
At the point of a finger, they turn to mush,
But at the absence of it, the eyes say an ignorant goodnight.

I'm aching to scream it, the human in me is still alive!
But sometimes I see me too, walking backwards down the hill,
Everything has become so tasteless,
The days predicted, the opinions formulated like a pill.

The word cycle comes from how things revolve around,
Hearing the echo trace the edges of a sound,
As it circles and rotates, then finally rebounds,
Shifting the uncertainty into an assurance that hounds.

I am a half chewed apple you can trace back to a tree,
A three-way split mirror with 3 broken versions of me,
A silence you can familiarize with an epiphany,
That what's inevitable has no other ending than to be.

Circumference, border, assigned seating.. are all just names,
The ink ran out when I tried to curve the sphere I became,
No matter where we run the beginning has us trained
To sniff every pattern, till the cycle is ingrained.

Curiosity was his best dress,
It best matched his green eyes,
A vast land of questions,
As if she had all the answers memorized.

"How do tears form?

From where do they come?

Is sadness a cloudy sky

And rain drops run one by one?

His analysis of his mother's breakdowns,
It was his favorite past time hobby,
While all the kids ran around in backyards,
He'd make theories on her sobbing.

"Are there different forms of crying?

On a scale of silent tears

to gut wrenching sobs,

The louder, the more sadness domineers?"

Every night he'd put his hand under her pillow,
He said he never wants her tears to go to waste,
Her broken heart mended to be broken again,
As she watched her 7 year old discover the world's sombre face.

"Does someone ever run out of tears?

Or does crying ever lose its meaning,

Can something only choose to be happy,

Or would it be called cheating?"

Sometimes she wished for a solitary evening,
When she could follow with her demise,
But every time she'd thank God,
For giving her a 7 year old of the best kind.

And for once she replied

"Did you know that heroes came 

in all forms, shapes, and size,

And before dusk turns into reality,

Wounds can be healed one last time."


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