her lips were the color of summer peaches in Quetta, the dusky gold of the sun when it set.
.................

there are mysteries id like to solve.
he's the biggest one of all.
......................

there are abysses in rainbows, and loopholes in fairy tales

.......................

 

sometimes, i paint pathways in the greyblue sky and dot them with silver.

...................................

 

crumpled lotus flower form on a grey waterbed

...................................

 

 i am overcome with homesickness while still cosy in my room..

.................................

 

things have settled down in a plastic,contained sort of way. bound in strips of clingfilm and social gatherings; we are a-okay.

............................

 

.i construct war zones and romantic interludes at the back of my eyes, in the corner in the dark where no light from my present can reach.

.............................

 

How could i begin to weave the fleshy strips of my narrative, the internal monologue constantly repeating my story to myself..to spew out of a hollow dry mouth, hoping the inky strains on paper can covey some small part of the stories through which we live.


at what point do we being to unravel the story from our own, the completely aloof fictitiuos tale from reality...transcribed out of pure boredon, burst of litereary vomit or distracted musings carefully crafted to sit on the sidelines, (but never a reflection of soul, never)
..............................

 

sweat tears and the wonderful composing ability of anguish

............................

i want to become yours too,

in a permanent unquestionable way.

..............................

 

I sit besides my lonely fire -

And pray for wisdom yet:

For calmness to remember -

Or courage to forget”

...............................

 

I swim in the bluest skies,

seas are only finite after all.
..................................

i feel my soul is decaying rotten in pieces like the peeling moldy skin of Eden's fruit...i would ask you to rekindle it with lyric and song, paint it with lilac shades of romance, the deep crimson of lips bleeding in nervous anxiousness, the yellow of tiny daffodils littering my doorway.. sunshine, passion, want...all the familiar, forgotten.

........................................

..and since by no means am i bereft yet of all that is beloved by me, contained in your embrace,
i will persist in soldering on even in this bright sunny gloom of summer days..

.........................................

Society is a masked ball where everyone reveals their character in hiding.

,...........................................