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?
Soul, have you ever wondered; I collect the unrefined feelings of – brought into this life and they fight over dominance with you yet you remain hidden, untouchable light that not even the hungry eyes can devour. Have you thought what might happen if you came into my heart or mind placed your presence were it won’t turn everything to ash but suppress this greed, this hunger this longing, this loneliness my picked up redundancies; overthinking or overindulgence maybe you’ll make out of me then a content vessel; after all I host freely, and would cherish favour to be me?
It must be a waltz but I’ve never waltzed or soft tapping of feet on solid cloud but a steady feeling, observing when to storm or harvest the kind one can never regret.
You know a craving of chocolate while having an aching tooth, Or a run on a rainy day, There’s reason, not spiteful but one which could prevent a headache Yet the heart will only stomp it’s feet.
I feel, I might have been in love each time a pen translated my thoughts; Yes, my hand was writing but description that lets me meet my thoughts, how it feels as though they’re conversing with me whilst silly but to my soul it’s a taste of said waltz or glide by amongst the stars.
You know; the roof that’s been unrestricted. In love…
What that irresistible feeling neglected to say is, there lives other feelings beyond your touch shortens my breath and with your eyes locked on mine If there is lava alive in a heart that could come down on its own my cheeks will tell all how you set me alight.
I fell in love, no? without insurance and the smoke have left no trace.
Pick me up, along the ashes of that irresistible. Wasn’t I alight? But on my face is; it went too quickly.
The subtlety in how the wind stirs a conversation between my hunched self, the dreamer and the reluctant I heard is a form of dance, art that persisted would keep it’s elegance even when the howls of a dying species are ringing more than the wind can tame.
I saw a formation of rich men rich men that by their perspective I’m a leech because though my facade is firm how I raise my hand, touch my face even drink water says I’m overly exerting my desperation, trying to jump into the lane they were born. Are they saying I am a gold-digger?
I learnt, not only learning but I starved a writer’s mind to keep my head where my mother could see her own dreams start to walk, and walked they did for a mile or so they gallivanted. See, I could speak that language she could not and my reading along with writing was beyond only the world she knew, being I was a writer in my dark room; but this along the backwater town mindset I inherited proved mightier than the pen, thus I’m living here still and she no longer calls me her daughter.
Yet the wind’s seduction didn’t reduce, when a full moon remained above my head teasing to a hungering soul the wind didn’t let me enjoy even a conversation with the stars, it let me to believe, it let me to be convinced that I should bow not only my dignity to the power of living but history too; history of where the rocks might have drifted and men along the way learnt too to be by themselves. I didn’t become a man…
Let me go I said, I said perhaps it was in a dream that dream my mind could let go but my conscious lives by. In the end I’ve become unhappy, tormented by the man I hope to love and a life I wish to live. Bargaining, I told those men each full moon to pass by my street, if the sight is to their satisfaction then let me eat on the plates they’ll throw away. Mother no longer speaks to me…
In capacity of my own understanding, me; bringing forth what I should have let go many years ago, now standing in front of you still explaining the very same thing; I knew not how to let go says, besides my own negligence that I me who might have fallen in love was never truly in any stance or chance to say, my feelings were true and I understood what they meant no matter how blatantly I ignored I knew who you would’ve been to this parched soul had my intelligence been the sky in my life but I find I’m out of favour with normalcy I know to stew and hover, along those feelings that have started to boil.