Nobody can hold water, does water hold anybody? It just lets you sink in your own choices...If I would wanna die, my choice would be water.
I am incautious. Or am I numb? Across the road I see, I see The florist. Roses, lilies and sunshine. And some are just pretenses...
I basically began my journey of writing with poetry, and poetry has always been beautiful to me… bringing one to your reading palette…the tale of the tumbler…the tale of the sunshine…
Could you please let me drive? I often close my eyes. And, I don’t know the journey is a little heavy, my waistline a little clutched…Find me…there’s nothing to hold on to. I’m floating. The pain is fading away, and maybe so is the pleasure. Haha. Hey, I see them, clouds, and nobody notices them well enough. Hey, I see them, stars so stark, to compromise, to hope?
I wanted to be able to say. I wanted to be able to heal. I wanted to feel okay or probably not feel anything at all, to be what I am, or not be at all. When life seemed sort of an ugly business, my way of rebellion, alive, was simply to go to sleep.
What price do I owe you to find me my home? No, not the price for luxury, the price for peace. Or we can compromise with no roofs at all? Or even no walls? To be wrapped all over in the fragrance of the soil and to sleep with a starry sky above my head. Home sweet home... Have I found you yet?
I miss you love. I miss being ordinarily stupid. I miss those random pinks and reds and blues. Will you find me again to stay forever? Why do I need to still search you instead? Am i waiting? Am i lost?
Life probes us consistently even without knowing, making mild or wild impressions on our skin as if on sand. "Mild or wild" sounds nice, touches deep. Change is not easy, growing up is is not easy, it never will be. Ah, what do we do?