.
Pray excuse me Lady, I do beg thy pardon,

but I saw thee walking in the lonely garden,

chestnut hair falling over a long white gown,

and sadness deep in eyes of almond brown.

Forgive mine intrusion, please take a glance,

agree to accompany me to the lovers dance,

for thy loneliness to mine open heart screams,

so take mine hand and show me thy dreams.





© Pagan Paul (16/06/18)
.
Lord of Green series, Poem 16.
.
“Being Special” is such a foreign word to my heart,
And I’ve always been disastrous at learning languages.
Here, now, summer is synonymous with loneliness,
Scorching heat with empty houses and empty driveways.

In a few hours, your room with a future lost
Out of my own free will,
And the beach we used to frequent will be synonymous with the ghosts of hope and a lover scorned.

I called my uncle today and I almost cried.
His voice is synonymous with love unconditional and pure,
As he half-jokingly admits that he loves me more than my siblings
Because
When I was young and sat on his shoulders and drooled on his hair,
I was synonymous with daughter years before he had his own.

As I text my friends, snort at their jokes and cringe at their mistakes,
I wonder
What am I synonymous with?
I'm breaking up with my boyfriend tonight
I miss my friends
I love my family
here the artist rest their sad and choked down words
waving tales of loneliness
flocking here in herds
but where they think they'll find a place, to reveal their sin
they are still just artists, shouting above the din
"please hear me!"
"please help me!"
do you see?
we are all alone surrounded by people just like us
Hannah 6h
I miss you

I miss you like I miss summer in the winter
Begging for you to come back only to suffocate in your heat

Sometimes it is better to be cold

I miss you like I miss the rain on a hot, dry day
Wishing you would come and bring me soft showers and a cozy day in
But you only bring l me harsh wind and thunder

Sometimes it’s better to be hot

I miss you like I miss being able to sleep at night
Wanting you to wrap me up in your arms and tell me everything is okay
But you never will again

Sometimes it is better to be alone than suffer with the one that hurt you
RH Fists 21h
cant                                                             ­   FIND


the                                                    ­              WORDS
to say
                              and explain                                fluttering heart
                     goes nothing
i love you
you are so                           not sure if it        
                             pheromones
                                                      ­                                    fucking you
                                                             ­                             fucking me
enter location                                                NOW

help­
Aniseed 1d
Advertising loneliness
Highway hypnosis
Always staring at this white ceiling
I can't paint

Aspirin doesn't take away the ache in my soul
That spreads to my mind
That spreads to my words
That stain my fingertips
And seizes my ankles

-------------------------

27 times I've been reminded that
These bones aren't going to hold me forever
And these feet will forget how to run
But I told myself they never found a need to
Instead simulating a universe
Where they had power

--------------------------

There's a cruel joke in there somewhere
That playing House as kids
Didn't include a guide on how
To reach that threshold in the first place.
Learning that hands were made to be used
When cooking
And compromise was the cornerstone of love
When cleaning

-------------------
I haven't really sat down to compose something that sounds coherent. Have some recent thought rambles from the last few months, instead.
Rafał 1d
Sachiko was sitting in front of her house and painting flowers on a linen canvas. The day was pleasant, with the Sun high in the sky, warm wind blowing from the south; it was the beginning of spring, and most of the people in the town would walk to the nearest river called Daiko and throw pebbles into it as a form of leaving the old winter days behind and welcoming new ones.

After Sachiko painted ume flowers, she thought it would be a good idea to savor a cup of tea – especially made with water from Daiko river, because it was generally very clean (despite of some pebbles thrown into it). However, the water from tap was not the one from the spring, but from a city rather nearby, and it was not as clear. Sachiko decided to take a plastic bucket and go to the upper part of the river.

As she was walking on a sand way, passing by numerous trees and animals such as rabbits and hedgehogs – the town was basically a village with buildings and a few streets – she noticed she was feeling somewhat strange.

“It’s like something is different today,” she wondered. “Subtle differences, but I can feel them.”

She kept on walking until she reached the river, which was a calm stream, but this time there were no other people besides of one person. Or, to be precise, almost a person.

A sad scarecrow was sitting by the river, staring hopelessly at the surface of the river. Sachiko at first felt slightly scared, but after a short moment figured out he didn’t really look too dangerously, maybe he needed some help. She sat next to him and looked at his white face made of an old pillow.

“Hello sir,” she started. “May I ask you if everything is alright? You seem to be depressed”.

“I lost everything. My home, my dreams, my future. I’m a broken scarecrow and have no meaning for life anymore, not even bird are scared of me. I’m a pathetic failure,” the scarecrow replied, and furiously started hitting its head against the grass. “I’m an avid gambler! I thought I had luck, I did for some time, I’d won every bet I made… but then I… I put a bet on my soul, on my raison d’etre, and lost; from then, my meaning has been torn apart and thrown into an abyss.”

Sachiko noticed the emptiness in  his eyes. Suddenly the wind felt colder and she got shivers.

“To whom did you make the bet?”, she asked as calmly as she could, yet nervousness has gotten into her voice.

He looked at her as if she was the most bland thing in the world, as if she was the most boring person that could ever exist. Then he sighed, crossed his legs and hid face in his hands.

“To myself”, he replied hopelessly. “I put a bet on whether I could accomplish something worthy, and I did not. I am a failure to myself, and I set my heart on fire, then threw it into oblivion. When I did it, I realized there is no turning back and what I’ve done was a terrible mistake born from too high ambitions. Because I am just a scarecrow and my meaning was to scare birds off. I’d never amount to anything, I am useless besides of that.”

After he said that, he jumped into the river and floated away. Sachiko nodded her head, and felt very disoriented, slightly confused. Soon she proceeded on doing everyday things, such as drinking tea and painting. She realized that the moral of the story is to treat life as something that just is, that everything happens because it happens, and not seek for any special meaning. Because we set meaning for ourselves. Or we jump into a river and float away, like a scarecrow.

After all, we all just scare birds away and set our hearts on fire trying to accomplish something.
Hello, it's me again.
Animosity baring in.
It's dangerous yet, I know.
Running from your flaws just to slip in snow.
And us demons, ready to charge.
We will barge, at large, in your heart.
This is not the me I use to be.
Skin scarred up in places you cant see.
Went from bow ties,
loose lies,
to noose ties.
Hello, it's me again.
The grim reaper a vigilant sin
Should I stay or let her go?
Better yet...
I'll finish her off with my scythe in the snow.
How I view my inner demons
Silent mornings and empty beds. I cook for one.
28 day snapchat streaks, “omg” “lol” and “wtf”.
Walking by your mom’s house. You’ll run out that door any minute...?
New friends in class. They’re temporary and they know it.
Job applications stacked on my bed. I’ll quit within 3 months.
Getting breakfast at LP almost every morning. They’re the only ones left who know my name.
I count the days until summer ends, and with it my loneliness.
37, in case you were wondering.
Even temporary losses induce a constant ache.
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