Conspiring melodies, tongue-in-cheek parodies, beginning to recall memories, shove them down, place myself at ease. Jilted rhythms, a sonata heaves and breathes, escaping the melancholy, Dear, there seems no end to these.
haven’t always been the best person haven’t perpetually been the kindest human in times of pain I lash out and let them have it my heart, wounded, dripping by the bloodied scourge and the very dagger sliced into my fragile ego drips drip drippps with overt sentiment and angry vehemence how dare I be slighted my mind will scream how dare I be wronged my pride shall call but the truth is, there are two sides to every story, and I can’t always be stuck playing, rewinding Side B hours and hours on repeat, lyrically paining. [...]
I scatter the ashes from dawn to dusk, breathe the fire raging within, overtaking much of my ire, and I glance all around, gather myself as I rooooaaaar that sound; I am calling, calling for something – I wait for an approach all around. Bouncing, and bounding are those terrible two, a pair of angry feline-like beings whom will not cease their stares, their venomous fangs they gnash and gnash my way, punishment? Although what ill have I performed? That’s not for me to say. I fend off the creatures, with their wild, wild stares and ferocious, swiping claws until they realise, I can well-word myself out of any situation, at least the concept is correct – with a peeling away, they retract with their intent so flawed. [...]
admirable this deceptive intent I've known you from before and really, well, the efforts aren’t well spent for I can see through the cage-work the fingers prised through the wired gaps trying to get through through to my heart when I’ve made it whole from pieces – a work of fastidious art [...]
carry on carry on there is no time to regret past mistakes are mere moments take them with a grain of salt nothing more they’re already spent learnt lesson learning lessons yearning for more in a while because what is suffering is my heart aching heart for quite some time with many a-frantic style [...]
I woke up today with this feeling improvements are coming my way. I roused today with the knowledge amid the blustering breeze gritty cares will be transported away. I am aware now that I am stronger, as I grow, irreverent words pool, tide carries them to sand and soil, away, angelic beats of beauties in expiring melted snow heralding a new era, trumpets to ears; nothing much left to say, but, I was forthcoming, I severed a tie, temporarily it must be, unless truth, future and beauty cause the past to decay, and a lifelong extension may be necessary in order for me to freely breathe.
Weeping willow reminds me of stormy challenges, of riotous heart poundings, of emotional damages. Weeping willow, fretting leaves, gives me a sense of hope, her bent back fingers laze, but within her, their pathway I know, like me, like you, as her, she represents such harmony within our souls [...]
Sprite-like eyes, rainbow glimmer, delighting, no need to try, the sunbeams stretch from there to evermore, a chest-full of memories stored, but I flitter them to the wind, like vagrant butterflies they linger and they gain height, they soar, [...]
I wonder to myself, does Time heal most wounds? Does it help scab over the surface of gashes more permanently than a over clumsy bruise? Will it fix the mistakes, the errors of time gone by? Allowing for a reprieve, a chance to redo the actions, rather than saying goodbye? Or perhaps Time heals the wounds and allows the person [...]
It’s considered ludicrous, as this pencil draws as pen, impermanence detailing permanence, can history make amends? In truth, in part, will hope, will reinstated knowledge renew? In truth, in whole, intentions grown strength to strength and full? But, unmanageable, so it seems? By a world of common sense and broken former seams,