My wardrobe is time machine,
freaked up just like me,
in my pains,
in my sadness,
on the paths full of
shadows & lessons,
through the valley's
of cafe to lounge,
sittin' down for casual
or business meet,
Never gonna wait,
Never gonna hold me back,
will keep travelin'
from brown to trolley bags,
packed up and walked past,
twisting yet missing
the millennials trend.
#mywardrobe
We are weaved together by our stories, our history
Tales woven through our ancestry, when our parents talk of their younger days
When their life was ahead of them, the future was anything and everything, they speak of their old friends with ache in their soul
Of times when their hearts were filled with fire and passion, running through fields growing memories  planted by the world around them
When they could sprint the wind in their hair, adventure ahead, hope in their heart.
They speak of the days behind with woe
Because essentially just their ideas of the future as a young mind, was more exciting than reality.
As dreams failed and hope faded
As their minds wear and their treasured stories that made them who they are fog over
As threads begin to wear
As tales they once yelled to the world with pride frays at the details
Your whole world slipping away as the thread unwinds
But they get the joy of passing down the tapestry to their pride and joy, to the life they made, every one of us
Every moment we live with ease of no appreciation for every experience every laugh
Moments we take for granted
Moments we will pine for when they run out
Moments the elderly urge us with fire to be aware of the importance of
Moments we'll wish we listened to them about
There is a vast tapestry of memories behind you and infinite thread panning out in front of you, connecting to other tapestries, visiting at friends, at enemies, joining with soul-mates future, some cut away, some ripped from the tapestries to soon before they could weave their own
A loose thread cannot be fixed once more are made, and the patterns will never be what you want them to be, savour each stitch
Take time on every thread
You don't want to be sitting there 50 years old thinking about the life you wasted
About the memories faded
About how every slipping memories never like the moment you made it
Don't be sitting 90 filled with regret
Filled with hatred for every opportunity you left
Screaming into the voice about how much you hate what your life become.

because they say time flys when your having fun truth is time only flies when you're young.
KM Hanslik Apr 14
You're running numbers in your head, but
the thread counts don't match all the things you tend
to spit out when numbers fail your tests,
like how I tell you we're all just floating
here, and you tell me maybe I should go
find someone else to pass time with, because if this all has no meaning anyway, then why
should I care what we do together in the dark? Only I lie;
I crave this like I'm dying and I need to feel
something now before it's gone, and we
are just molecules floating through time, without reason
to aim for any particular thing;
I like to pass time with you. It makes breathing
easier. It makes my lungs
lighter and I like to tally up our thread counts
together.
If we are still breathing when
the sun comes up, remind me
to add your name to the list of people I would scour the earth for and plunge
my existence through the darkest of realities to give you
a piece of the beautiful things
that escape your head when you need
them most. Remind me,
how much time do we have left?
And even if it looks like i'm walking and leaving you behind, there's this thin thread that's been tied from my finger to yours,  since the day we met.
fustypetals Feb 19
ku tau ini tak mudah,
kau yg membuat ini sulit
seperti benang yg terlilit

tak ada alasan,
namun kau datang
tak ada penjelasan,
namun kemudian kau pergi

apa harus ku biarkan saja?
ah tidak!
sudah muak rasanya
begini saja terus rasa hatiku

membelit-belit
seperti benang,
yang jika dipaksakan untuk ditarik,
akan mati


—f.r
jika keinginanmu adalah pergi, maka pergilah;
jangan lagi kembali padaku, karena mungkin aku sudah menutup pintu hatiku ini untukmu.
Like an Anchors
Close to, Ocean blue
Bigger than the horizon
Strong as it’s ties

A simple threads
Full of vibes and colours
Identity explains,
An agreement
Seems freedom on fire,
A helical twist

But they say,
Twisting is mystery
Twisting is strength.
Genre: Abstract
Theme: Then, nothing matters.
Shared from my Aanthology, Canvas: Echoes and Reflections, 2018.
BianchiBlue Feb 11
just pull lightly and slowly
on the thread, it’s satisfying
to feel the unraveling - thoughts
flow like a lazy river, slowly pulling us
along - the threads of our covering
disappear as we swim, bound
by the shorelines, loosed
in a current between
Bryce Jan 4
Tonight I am in the open field
Wheatgrass freely tickles the calf
I will stretch the canvas for a hundred yards
And fade away into winter sky

Glide along the freezing clouds
In between here and outer space
A thousand miles away with the migrating geese
To go without chains

The wind screams quiet in my ears
Following the invisible breeze of fate
Alone I go, alone I rip the strings


Tonight, the moon hangs a pockmarked perfect orb
Exhilarates with the liquor of light
A dead land, timeless beyond man
A slain foe of refurbished bone
mint Dec 2017
I don’t remember how it went anymore
I was too caught up in the emotions to notice when it fell apart
It wasn’t until there was thread spilling over my hands and onto my feet that i realized that none of it was keeping us together anymore
mmmmm how sad all I remember are things going really well and things going really badly.... where was the in between?
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