If I'm the main character
Then what are you?
Some useless sidekick
That will never get the praise they need?
Why do you help others but never accept a "thank you"?
You deserve more than this
And I can't always be the one in the spotlight
When you're in the audience, clapping
Because no one will ever know who you really are
But to me, you're always that number one

light blue - as in light enough to fly; blue enough to fall; a pull in both directions; pooling inflections of the light-wave sifted through the dark weave; near-symmetrically mindful of the sent and received

There's something incredibly southing about taking in this frigid air
Its chill flows through me
Dispelling the tired leaves of a long sweltering season
I'm left bare
An opportunity to appreciate the strength of my roots
Admire my branches
Though they be crooked, brimming with knots, and countless broken branches
Will I survive this time of reflection and blossom in time for Spring
Or cower in fear of another snapped limb

hi,
first time?
no? hmmm
im siam and you are?
cold turkey.
cold turkey, nice name.

is that for real coz im starting to believe it.

sigh, of course not!
as if siam is your real name duh!

haha
do you want to go out and have life outside
or you just want to sit back and relax as if you enjoy all this ****?

what do you want siam?
im free.

sure!



*****?

no thanks,
im done with 1 bottle already.

weak!

kiddin, hi im oyster and you are?
oyster, sound scandal isnt it?

yah,
i know.

im free,

sure.

who am i?
rabbit?
cement?
who am i?

say it louder,
who am i?
pablo,
oslo,

just do it!

done.

same.

wait,

what's your name again?
it doesnt matter anyway,

call me whatever you like.

Due to what will never be:
Dishes that wash and put themselves away,
Lessons that squirrel themselves away into my brain,
Relationships that begin and mature through no effort of my own.

Character is developing within me:
Self-discipline,
Perseverance, and
Patience with a dose of selflessness.

So even if I grumble audibly,
I am grateful to what will never be,
For the character it is forcing into me.

What was our love,
If not just an other Shakespearean tragedy?
An other story of tragic heroes cursed by their fate,
Struggling to exist within their characters.
You, facing the external conflicts from family.
Me and my internal conflict
(of not being courageous enough).
Our tragic loss of our selves and each other,
Thanks to the diabolical supernatural elements,
Playing their own characters in the play.
The lack of poetic justice,
causing a poor end to the tragedy.
And in the end a comic relief,
through the humorous character of time it self.

Tell me again,
What was our love,
If not just an other Shakespearean tragedy?

The Wainscot Weasel lost an eye to a fight with a bird,
But it’s what he did next which makes him absurd.
It’s because he fell in love with a fish in a pond.
In another life he might have belonged,
But his fur had no scales and his single eye swam with tears,
So from a distance he watched her swim through the months and the years.

A year is millennia for a young weasel to wait.
A year is a long time for even an animal to contemplate.
The sun lingered on the water, its surface filled again from the trees.
A collection of orange smudges then reflected the leaves.

The frogs have all croaked and new birds’ calls now echo,
And still sat a lonely, but quite happy fellow.

He followed her tail’s drag through the painting of his existence,
And finally he could no longer put up resistance.
He lowered himself to the pool where she swam,
And the Wainscot Weasel was never heard from again.