Do not be startled.
This unexpected knock at our door,
this lingering chill
is not of humanly nature.
It is death approaching to collect her reward.

Do not be alarmed, remain seated.
Stay mindful.
Watch carefully,
its gait is that of a cat.
It treads with muffled steps
and pounces on its prey without a notice.

Black is not the color of death.
Like a mirror, it devours all colors.

Do not loose your nerves,
keep observing.
Keep listening to its silent whisper,
'I am death, I am loved by all.'

They tell us that our world is spinning.
Indeed it must be,
look how we go round and round
tracing the same paths.
Look how we fall each time,
how we are brought back to life again.

We stood here once,
who will know of this ?
That which is of clay
will return to clay.
What breathes now
will lie still then.
Flowers will draw life.
Flowers will bloom.
Flowers will wither away.
Who will know?
Who cares.

Memories must be played on a loop
for us to remember.
Misery, come wait by our side.
For happiness cannot be far behind.
Wounds must be sliced open once again,
to remember that we can heal.

I play my favorite song and i grab my pen
I wanna empty my chaotic head

Words frisk around words. Thoughts scream to be heard. Memories weep to be replayed. Dreams stir to be noticed.

So many colors to choose from. So many blues, so many reds. Too much black and too much purple. But my page remains as white as snow.

The contradictions are embedded everywhere. I cannot tell where the storm is headed anymore. What is it that im feeling, and what is it that im forcing myself to feel?

I lean back and i let the lopsided waves of my head wash away all the pretty words i had summoned. And once again, i am left with incomplete sentences and empty words.