Like the delirious rivers in spring
I am drowning in the arms of  lilacs
and enjoying the purple dawns,
lavander happiness.

Snowdrops!
no need to be ashamed anymore.
I drink bottled dreams of eternity,
as suicide-bomber butterflies stir my veins.

sharing the wind
sailing again
we witness
the bright
lavender leaves

Starting honey sweet, light as a feather
the first spring breeze
thats breaking the brittle cold
of past weathers.

Longing after what seems
but a distant memory, my heart is tethered.

I cannot stress enough, express such need
to feel warm earth against my bare feet;
dewy breeze down my exposed spine
all the mental sighs of summertime.

Laying hands and lips against
sun-kissed skin
feeling relief from the heat ridden beach,
as we suspend in the calm, endless ocean

To be out until pink, and lavander
bursts of fragmented light graze the sky
and watch the dozing sun
set in his espresso eyes

We'll lay upon the soft emerald grass
watching all the stars and satellites
hands naturally entertwined
on our beautiful August night.

Yes I'm still playing guitar and yes I still write poetry. But lavander is no longer my favorite flower, it tends to leave a bitter aroma in the air. And now black is my favorite color, like the color of my bedroom all the nights I lay awake searching for stars on my ceiling. I still think of you from time to time but the romance my mind told me to feel has disappeared. I can't say I'm much happier but that's because I've been damaged. It's not entirely your fault, but you're not faultless. I can honestly say that I've stopped missing your hands. I don't love you.
It's 2:31 in the morning and I still have trouble sleeping. But I'm no longer laying on a pillow drenched in tears. I'm laying next to someone who loves me more than you ever could.

-k.d.

I am from the battered symbol and
Dolce and Gabbana perfume and
Adam's peanut butter
I am from the honeysuckle vines
Creeping up the pillars and twirl around my ankles
It tasted like exotic spices and smelled like pond water
I am from the blueberry bush
The lavander rushes
Curling softly around my rusted heart shaped wind chime
I am from Christman Eve birthday cakes and
Writing my name in charcoal on cliff faces
From Tom, and Phillip and Gerard Butler
I am from the judges and
The singers
From marshmallow farms and
Watermelon seeds
I am from the Kool Aid Communion and
Stolen animal crackers
I am from Providence and ancient watchtowers
Bangers and Mash and ginger beer
From the crickets, wickens and picket fences
The bright red porcupine
I am from heron beaks and the green shuttered house
With the bow and arrow creek
The plum cherry trees
Young ****** noses
And the note I keep in my pocket to remind me who I am

Lavander sweet, butterfly breezes
Love in the dusty yellow sunshine
Mason jars filled to the brim with liquid amber and honey
Fragrant daffodils, flourishing tall as trees
And
Darling panseys and daisys
Who dance like suthern bells
Bees take flight and the nights are filled with wonderlust
and longing
Starlight grazing the slightest lullaby
As is grows like thunder
And threatens to tear the unconciousness from your eyes

You once asked me why I never left.

"Familiarity" was my answer.

I often answered my phone without looking who was calling me but once I heard your voice, i already knew it was you.
You had the habit of sneaking up on me, but even a couple meters away I already know that you're around. Your scent that smells like coffee and cigarettes with a pinch of lavander lingers through the air and I already knew that you were there.
We used to stay all night on our rooftop just to see the stars I loved. I counted every plane that would pass by and you would count the hours of sleep you get from then on. For a moment there was silence and I knew you fell asleep, even breaths and slighty snoring, but i dont mind. I loved the way your face's calms when you sleep, your lips curve at one side and your eyebrows not scrunched up like always. From then on, i knew i would love to wake up everyday to your view.

After a couple of months you asked me why I was leaving you.

"Familiarity" was my answer.

Days would pass and you seldomly call or text me. The only time i could hear your voice was when I look through our old videos.
Time was never on our side, we suddenly had no time for each other. There were no more time for making out, no more time for some warm hugs, no more time to share how was our day. No more time to say and let the other feel loved.
It rained and there were no stars in the sky that night. I fell asleep on the window seat, watching every raindrop fall on the glass. The next morning when I woke up, it was like you were never there.

The birthing sun of the east, it rises with a certain beauty
Crawling like a new born into the sky, curiosity illuminating all it touches,
magnificence as I begin to feel the pureness.
I can see sun rays bursting through the window of my soul
shining down with its bottemless luminosity.
Light creeps into the depths of my blood pumping heart
and in that very moment it twists open to the warmth
like a blooming blossom in the gardens of my chest.
I take it all in at once and savor thee emotion that has filled me.
It is the rising of the sun, dawn of a fresh new beginning.
On the contrary,
its the wise sun of the west, its soft wisdom now puts my restless mind to bed.
Wrinkled in knowledege, beginning to ******* down by time
seeing the whole world while it slowly passed.
While sinking away it paints a glorious memorial never to be forgotten,
a canvas sky filled with tangerine oranges and lavander purples.
I become saddend by its goodbye, yet accepting at the same time
because the sun will be reborn the following day,
like a never ending galactic reincarnation of the ever lasting beauty it holds.

I fell in love with her.
She has a soul as black
As death on a sabbath morning.
Her eyes are deeply set in the astral-plane that is her facade.
She is the captor of the attentions of many.
She is not without agenda.
Neither is she not without heartache,
For the sun that shines the brightest is always the first one to burn itself out.
Tawny windblown streaks are waving in the  lavander twilight, as her arms would move to hold the sky.
She draws me closer to her.
I alone can see inside her,
And her secrets, I help hide.
It does not matter
That she does not love me.

Yeah there is some of this still stuck between my bones. White like sea birds dipping on the wind
You are thunder and lightning
A wind that pulls at my only soul

The scratch of the grasshopper
As rain taps here and.           There
On the roof

Can you understand
That the gust of your word breaths
Dip deep rooted trees
A haunted howl on the wind
The scent of lavander and rose bud

How that would smell
On the give of your neck

The waves stir demon high
From the scream of your whisper
Floods homes next to the sea

But I would sleep on a wet floor
Sleep cold in your wind

Today I threw it all into the river
And the pieces all splashed
Pulled along the current

If I die
Put my body in the sea
Where your storms boil

Thanks to you I feel like I'm living a longer spring than what I thought was posible and now I've grown used to sighs that taste like roses and lavander, rainbows in every pond, and ambrosy-like kisses.
I feel summer coming, but it's warmth doesn't trick me. The melting sun feels like the ****** to the symphony I didn't know how to write until we started making music.
And right behind summer comes autum as the last breath of life. Landscapes worthy of the best museums, all nothing more than a facade to hide the smell of death.
The circle closes with winter and everything that once bloomed in spring is nothing more than a memory covered in frost, in cold, in silence, in empy words, and painful goodbyes.
But right now, we are in spring and I foolishly hope that this relationship is located somewhere in the equator line where we can stay forever in spring.

through your
lavander blue-black
butterfly wings
reflect
your sweet
moonlight eyes

I still whisper prayers for you even on nights when I immediately fall asleep
as my back touches the bed, my head resting on my pillow
But I guess you are the one who’s tired from running inside my head all day
Some days you just walk, back and forth, pacing, hopping, leaping
Until I find you inside my pockets and then inside my chest where I hear all the beating
Some days I wish you would stop because it would mean that I have also stopped
From thinking about you so much but I guess it won’t just yet — you won’t just yet
I still repeat our fleeting moments when I can’t fall asleep
The smell of lavander can fill my room with all its might but once the thought of you pops
This world I belong to has a habit of pausing only to remind me that you have gotten away
On some days, in an old buick by yourself while on other days, in a carriage with the thing that is supposedly beating in my chest
Then I find myself chasing after you only to once again find myself running in circles
In an empty stadium’s tracks — but you’re there. I see you on the bleachers
but I cannot comprehend if you’re waiting for my victory or for my defeat
On some days, that is the problem. There is this uncertainty that envelops the sparkle in you
And oh, if I could only find out what keeps you from being unsure,
I would do everything in my courage to fight it so that you can stop running
And maybe I can start holding your hands when the lights turn green as we begin walking

should i be angry at God
for all the fractures in my bones
or do i look for anyone to blame
when i thought our world
smelled only of lavander

we appear only to feel home
to feel heaven in someone else's soul
and forget we're of the earth
forget that there will be more damage
even more catastrophic than the other

and we adore another soul
as if our skins were never burned
but we try to love them deeper
and end up in the salt mines

sometimes i wish i wasn't here
under the white sheets
soiled in salt water
seeing the emptiness
of this world
beside someone you truly love
hearing him sleep soundly
while you sleep
with a broken heart

"Alone in my city"

It is a silent night
I'm Standing out here on a reddish black lavander,
I'm Lonely and lights are creepy bimming,
The pleasant breeze of Gikondo
Are smelling like blossoming roses,
And i glance at the scattered
Low glimming lights of Nyamirambo,
And eye a surreal joyful avalanche.

I grab my phone and start swinging
around the front balcony,
recording my voice singing one of dualipa's songs,
My voice sounds ridiculous
and i hate it,maybe i have
to train it out In the rain.

And i'm Longing to dance like no one is watching,
Because nobody's around for me,
It makes me feel bored and anxious,
And i can't help but lock all the doors
And every familiar window,
my white short,brownish black jumper
and dark red nike sketchers are ready
i need to step out for a while,
And have an ounce wander down my city.

Hot teens of my age are here,
I'm not standoffish,i do some cares,
Beautiful girls with black hairs
and pile black eyes are wandering here,
With skinny ripped jeans
fitting their big sized hips
And my eyes can't help but stuck on
Their cleavage and woow silently,
My city is really too serene and surreal.

blessed be
the eyes of heavens
boundless graced
yet every space
filled with
lavander-scented
clouds

Beneath a gentle morning breeze,
splashes of purple play,
at the feet of trees,
Lilacs, in a forest of grey

delicate and sublime,
a purple ocean, a violet sea,
with the scent of lavander,
their aroma captivates me

My fingers dance up to your neck and then to the zipper of your dress. In a pitch black room but my lighthouse is you.
Holding you here you smell like lilac perfume.
I wake up . It was all my imagination...
The smell of Lavander on my pillow.
Wishing it was of your lilac scent so I can continue my dream.