There's little time for

love and affection, people --


have to work and die.

what we call gods
do not care they
do not exist

the heat of her breath on my arm
as she sleeps is my world, personified.
my sun, and moon, and stars rapidly
expanding beyond the limits
of any love I'd ever believed was mine.

In the quiet expanse of time, I find myself grappling with truths and untruths, wondering if I deceive even my own heart into believing I've attained tranquillity. Indeed, I am in a state of well-being, owing to the strides I've taken on this journey of self-betterment. Yet, the undulating waves of emotion persist – highs and lows interweaving like threads in a tapestry. Perfection remains elusive, and perhaps that's the beauty, for I've poured my essence into every endeavour.

Now, as I stand at the crossroads of zero, an architect of my own renewal, I embrace the task of rebuilding from the ground up. Metamorphosis courses through me, rendering me unrecognisable even to myself. Laughter spills more freely from my lips, though occasionally restrained by the shadows of doubt. Tears flow more earnestly, yet at times, I still restrain their cascade. Solitude becomes a cherished companion, a realm I delve into to nurture my soul. Simultaneously, the embrace of friends becomes a celebration of my being, an affirmation of the love I hold for myself in their company.

In this delicate dance, I witness the scales of life gradually finding equilibrium. The pendulum, once erratic, now sways in a harmonious rhythm. The art of relearning tranquillity unfolds before me, a masterpiece in progress, painted with the hues of experience and wisdom.

Time, the patient sculptor moulds each fragment of my existence. And in its embrace, I find solace. For while the road ahead is veiled in uncertainty, I stand here, resilient, embodying the truth that healing is a symphony of seconds and seasons.

And as I mend, I extend to you, a wish that your heart finds solace too. In this dance of existence, in shadows and light – may we emerge stronger, taking flight.

In the solace of lavender-flickering
Fairy lights that guide
My syllables along,

Silence has never felt so
Concrete.

Silence, on questions I have asked my
Conscious for repetition, and
To hunt for answers
To unwritten dialogue,

And as I contemplate this concept,

The beauty of ringing church bells
Bleeds and creeps
Through my window,

Slicing through the distorted
Avenues and Sulcis of silence
In my mind,
                      To remind me
                                                Of where I am.
Lying in the back of my car,


Keys in the transmission,
Waiting,
                                          ­                        Hoping,
For a new path to explore
In this eclectic figure 8 of
Communication and relationship. I never
Try to make sense of it all,

Until
A faint whisper from a Princess unshackles
My liberating-attempting mind,

A faint whisper, harmonizing with the
Church bells,
Soothingly-caresses my ears,

A faint whisper,
Carrying,
The words.
I’ve.
longed.
To.
hear.






“Come with me this way.”







Hallucination of grace.
An overflowing melting ***
Of desire.





Stillness. Gracious like
A still river. Cercadas sing,
Rocks in awe don’t move.





Until the moment of that faint whisper,
I’ll remain in the spacious jar of silence,
Waiting,
For the Princess’ voices,
While the solace of lavender-flickering
Fairy lights
Guide my syllables along.

Traces of others,
other
beings, in this now, ours, yours
his, hers, each
other
an other mind with a me and you
as other wise.

When I thought of you, then
I thought of me, of us, as a we,
agreeing,
aggressively gratifying a curiosity, a we
some grace makes possible, put right,
here at now,
awesome, not unmazing, not taking out,
not loosing in diabolic twists from known, no.

Now, in all time,
way out there where our augmented eyes stare
into the light of day, way, way far away, out there

where when is moot,
now is all the time we made, by being willing
to wander down a stack of words all lined up, pretty.

Do not let the silence fool you,
The screams are stifled, through and through.

The gentle glint is in their eyes,
Soft smiles grin in wild surprise,
Though the man pretends to sleep,
He hears the words and faintly weeps.

When you walk in the empty hall,
There's no jubilant footfall,
Of yesteryears' purple vigour,
Just vibrant souls that you ignore.

Do not let the silence fool you,
The screams are stifled through.
Do not let the silence pacify,
There is no rest, waiting to die.

I prepare myself:

I keep fighting with myself --


to stay on my toes.

Don't break her heart.

I know she and I don't talk anymore
and that she was fine with breaking me
to be with you.

But don't break her for me.
I could never forgive myself.