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kizzia May 2017
when do i stop roaming?
should i never
find a place
or someone
enough to make me stay?
are we all meant to be wanderers
that's why it's easier
to leave
than to remain?
kizzia May 2017
take me to rurality
no boundaries
when it comes to
the nature of reality.
take impressive—
yet not excessive—
pictures of what you see
we're to feel home anywhere
because it's you and me.
take me to rurality
we smile before
we're back to normality.
we'll be there ashore
overboard, we'll adore
the strangest things.
until our personal judgement
of what beauty is
wouldn't be
how is used to be.
kizzia Jun 2016
one day i would no longer travel alone
driving nowhere farther and farther from home
playing pretend that i have a friend
or my lost brother by my side instead
kizzia Jun 2016
i guess in this wrinkled age our love is still untarnished
but now you're cremated
your sweet spirit my beloved,
is kept in my sunroom to stay.
you still linger
in a jar of glitters
that our children joyfully play
kizzia Mar 2016
A shy, quiet girl inherits all her grandmother's vintage belongings. "Amelia," whispered the thinning, cracked lips of a loving woman. "My lovely girl. Have all my finery and jewels, for I've always known you're an old soul. Show them the other side of you. Get yourself out." Before Amelia repels, Lady's hand loosens against Amelia's grip.
This memory looms in her dreams, awake or not. She grows into an elegant woman, rich and not easy to touch, lonely and a doll. People adore her, but only her vintages and fashion.
Grandmother, she thought. I am in a trunk of old riches, but I have no one. Would I die an old soul by myself?
Maybe Lady's last words didn't mean she should've been born before 21st. Not even close. Perhaps it wasn't because of her taste of jazz and frills and laces and pearls and Audrey.
Maybe all this time, it wasn't meant as a praise. All the while her grandmother could see, even before: she would die an old soul, alone and no one to cry on her grave. A little luxury might make her feel better.
Dearest grandmother, nothing did.
Dearest Amelia, all I wanted was for you to step out.

Dearest grandmother, they only liked my facades.
kizzia Mar 2016
I came across a thousand youths
who climbed with pride
with their wisdom tooth.
Who knew no more
or less through hindsight
Footsoles sore
searching and trite.
Renouncing joy,
forgetting, neglecting
The simplicity, they overlook
at all the truth
in children's books.
"The more you get enlightened, the more you get confused."

  Mar 2016 kizzia
Marshie The Mellow
Give me some coffee
Talk to me at Three
Lend me a pen and a paper
Let me write all about it in a letter
It's something to make me feel better
Make my heart explode
Make my thoughts wander wondrously
Like i'm losing myself in a fantasy
I'll lose it all and explode my thoughts like ink on a paper
writing all about my wildest dreams and imaginative travels,
all my irrational thoughts, my greatest memories, the habits of mine, the things that remind me of you and the stars that I've seen each night too
Just let me write about all of it including you
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