The colour is lavender, not brisk purple or clouded shift of the intertwining shades of pink and blue but lavender, far seen in flowers the delicate like the first kiss when retold one could claim might have been stolen yet by blushing the profession tells there’s yearn; anticipation for one that’s making it’s trip. It’s lavender, surreal of a softness my mother’s humming gospel each Sunday morning or father’s ever silent presence the feeling of a homely place regardless where we’d get next month’s rent. That colour, my harmony’s identify it’s my welcoming sky to my dying land and the in between filled with chaos, care of endless hope. How it calms my sight but doesn’t blind let’s me the unsettled think for a moment beyond blue and white but there, that next step to take The colour is lavender.
I’ve abandoned self proclamations Those, They don’t sleep but follow me in my sleep; Who’s the thief? I abandoned them. They chased me for over a year that year I’ve not thrown it’s calendar away, mhm; did I somehow pick up baggage of my resolutions, the resolutions that have never seen fireworks? The crap then belongs within me. Abandonment.
I’m motivated, this is the first ever heard lie by my conscious self but it’s not a lie, I want to be motivated. My lazy ass has gotten of bed each day Not touching the floor barefoot, not touching the floor With slippers on; maybe I never did get off the bed; There’s a pile I need to sort, I listened to motivation. There, my chest feels light…
Crucial moments are revelations. Are these issues brought by lost time, top off my head, I didn’t meet any deadline and now over twenty five; do I hear some clock ticking or no accolades, it rings to me I’m wasting breath I don’t own? Abandonments! Those, Take one step at a time… To die tomorrow.
There’s still a decade to go? Twenty thirty two? My head’s already bowed.
I have abandoned self proclamations. Today, tomorrow; tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…
To be found, has forever been eternal end
Not at the end of the earth, far beyond the ocean
Seeing your face changing form, swimming into other faces but to no man’s land
Where your voice is not heard
And you have forgotten your tale
Its being found that has ties difficult to fathom
To cling to when your sleep has never been friendly
Near land, lavishly green and you see life in tomorrow
I wanted to be found, my voice melodious
But you see that shape, it’s a star behind my past
I point it for direction, tell you where I lost
And when you become smart, start to pay attention
to a fool that painted her dreams for all to see
Its when you learn to hope, I can be found
Only I haven’t painted, silence has took me in
Do you know who tells a story
A girl without a name, child in sense
Yet beneath her manners, dull isn’t who she is
Its her words that are ignored, held captive by
Hopelessness she sees valuable, she becomes a woman
Captured fully only by her love
That is where she goes, where she lives, where she’s
Beautiful and needs no retelling, its there a girl has miscoloured eyes, one for each of her selves
There she finds identity
And as I hope to live this life
Accordingly to destiny’s own fortune, I can be a rogue
Travel apparent my image, but not my true form
walk slowly so I’m partnered with strangers
I’ll have tales they willingly take
Mine as theirs but true only to myself
Its then to be found, will forever be eternity
Stay where it belongs, with my future
Rebelliously I will sleep, to see my star at the corner of the earth, talk about it to the listeners
I will be found…
Oh, I’m an eclipse? this, is this heartache crying?
You tell me, who’s heart I trampled; when mine’s beat had never withstood harshness of change within a day.
I, I loved you… I loved how it seemed it was your well crafted piece only saying my name, the call in it went beyond just my name being called.
Take this, take it all. This, this is what I would’ve wasted in form of tears. Now, they’re only a tug and haven’t been embroidered in indecisions, corruption; both our individuality.
But before I can claim, any brightness attached to my first tasting; I’m not an eclipse. To us, if we were to recollect our memories similarly, I would be a stagnant time; bound by weakness and overthrown by change.
Related to us…
I, I loved you. I loved your hurried steps like bundled years that let me to you. You didn’t notice but, I, I always counted yet every time our toes met; it felt we’d already lived out our time. Tragic desires That fulfilled their passion.
I guess you could conclude deceiving the dead has its merits, It lets you hear your mistakes at their most vulnerable and your heart when it’s close to explode You could say, betraying right before a peak is not outright evil but epitome of how human selfishness can truly reveal its magnificence.
– (after dark),
This is to say, If I were to die suddenly; won’t you remember me?
Would you blame me Father? for not listening to their teachings of you, how they told me to love you but would rather I follow my heart? And held resentment in my human heart for differences I noticed between me and those who are said to be blessed, not said by anyone in particular but my eyes where I think those in your favour are ought to stand? Would you blame me, when I think of you, my eyes fill with tears that contain much loneliness in this life; detestment of this life I wonder if for you I was ever a shining star amongst your trillions of brighter shining stars? For wanting reassurance and asking for that testament in those that are materialistic though my soul is content with only seeing the sun? Would you blame me Father? as you’ve seen how I’ve fallen under the judgment of their eyes and can no longer proudly claim myself since I have nothing to put forth as tribute? This has turned my side of the relationship bitter, do you blame me, having love for you that’s been corroded by what being human is and I thought I could overcome by believing in you wholeheartedly yet have succumbed to this monetary world? Is my love for you only selfish Father? Do you blame, because when I’m alone lost in thought; I blame myself.
How you said, between us; our meeting time and place is closer to our souls resting, not dying but rejoicing on; how our eyes will start to chase the journey of a shooting star this is, how you said; when we met, it couldn’t have only been clouds clapping hands or winds from China seas racing to tangle with those at the African front, we met and; I might have forgotten to lift, secure my past past the prying eyes of life, and the bearer of our simplicity; falling in love?