#lovelessness
there are two ways of speaking.
the mother tongue of our nation of two.
we tell each other tales that all end the same,
myths of devotion,
made of words usually indistinct, incomprehensible
big cats purring
the syntax of lovers who love blindly.
the language of breathing.
spoken on my island with the rain forests
and yours with hills of pure white snow
to see you I cross the bridge blindfolded,
beneath the sea of silence
where the echoes of sound and meaning fade,
leaving two strangers
not even able to give each other names.
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 9:19 AM UTC
You didn’t notice
Because
You didn’t know us.
You were above us
Because
You didn’t love us.
You found us boring
So you were ignoring
As we suffered neglect
But yet
You demanded respect.
That we couldn’t detect
The love you didn’t reflect
Because
To you we were pains
All the proof that remained
When no profit was gained
Yet you moan about paying
Because
We're all still staying
Here around the family
Where there are no homilies
That save you from indignities
From being constantly haunted
By children you never wanted.
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 5:05 PM UTC
It could've been your smile that lightened up the world
It could've been a hand on your injured substance
It could've been an adoration, for eternity
But not, it was nothing but a overly realistic dream
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 1:44 PM UTC
Tied by a rope to the image
Of familiar comforting predictable
Misery seeing not the truth you cling
Like a baby to the cold hateful mother
She drags you through cities and islands of
Solitude filling you up on hate like
Rotten breast milk
They say you're a hopeless case
Unfit for true greatness for you have
So little to give
I say you Fear life more than death
Too many chances to take
Too many disappointments to endure
For the fickle heart Lost and confused
Child full of love
Don't listen to it's song
It only aims to fill you with disdain
To embrace the hate in you
As one more comforting hateful failure
That proves it was right
All along
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 4:14 PM UTC
It placidly withers
like little Dahlias
settled on top of the cold marble
on the second week of November.
Leisurely fading
on the back of my brain
bestowing spaces
for new memories.
Until it becomes a blur
tiny dapples
freckles of different sunlight
augmented on different days
months
years.
Until almost immemorial.
Almost.
But then, he also withers
and so do I
and so does what we have.
Until one day,
it was nothing
but ashes
of the old fire.
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 10:40 PM UTC
Such cruel portion.
Such vivid agony.
Such hopeless faith.
Such homeless heart.
All when love... departs.
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC