A season
has grown
in the room,
and a man
has sold
his body
in the cold silence
lamenting loneliness,
listen to the conversation
which looks like a shadow.
From outside the window
he saw the seasons about to change.
A sparrow is chirping there
welcome the mating season
coming soon.
Lovers
sit opposite
while kissing
on the park bench
let go of longing
away from the hustle
and bustle crowd.
Falling leaves in the courtyard fall scattered like joy
free from branches.
Maybe the time has come
he left the door
from all affection
the former.
A piece of paper he wrote
and a hanging note at the door.

"Which you have left here, you shouldn't have taken it out later."

The clock struck a peculiar time
Reverberating on the window pains
When I looked up from the old wooden desk
To the stark white face of that piece  
My eyes were caught in a haze
The hands of the clock eluded me
The chair scratched against the floor
As I moved backwards and rubbed my eyes
My ears popped ever so slightly
Light headedness came on to me
I found it and remained conscious
Aware of what would occur should I fall,
Succumbing to that mechanism
I mustered myself to remove the clock
Lifting it from a single nail in the wall
I placed in in the top drawer of the desk
It's ticking was no longer audible
Yet I still felt the reverberation
It bounced and rattled within my bones
A pulsing echo within my mind
Never louder yet with each throb
It grew more and more distinct

Then it stopped altogether
And the shadows grew long in the room
I paned out the old attic space
For the breifest moment
Before the shadows evaporated
Blending and mixing with the darkness

The music ends
And yet the symphony has just begun
Everyone leaves us
Some run, some fall
But we stayed
And slowed danced in this burning room
Some called this misery
We called it home

~
...of wine and mirth
and holy birth,

of flowers and promise
and braided calmness,

of hummingbird and dragonfly
and their descending sky,

of porpoise and whale
and us as wind against the sail,

of grown wishes and sadness
in the flat fields under duress,

of sugar-filled cocoons and syrup
and sweetest honeymoon trip,

of dimples of Venus
and smiles from Adonis,

of thin walls about her room
in hopes to visit soon,

of all things made and said
and each time we shared a bed...
~

We built a home
made of lies,
A room
filled with secrets,
The walls
witnessed our highs,
And sighs
That silenced the crickets.

- Juju

I wish for the emptiness,insecurities, and hatred to leave.
And leave nothing but their footprints,
their sound and their silence.
A little reminder that they were once here.
Like some of my friends.
I wish to thank them soon for leaving.
Because apparently,
I only have a few room in my heart-
for one thing or another.
And it could no longer be
for things
that doesnt wish to stay.

There's room to live.
There's room to love.
There's room to hate.
There's room to forgive.
There's room to change.
There's room to grow.
There's room to breathe.
There's room to believe.
There's room to grieve.
There's room to run.
There's room to have fun.
There's room for everything
And everyone.
You just have to make it.