Color of daydreams

Dipping my fingertips into the color of daydreams… 

and streaking them across the windows of our future,

staining them…crimson.

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there is much silence without you

Missing you in the empty living room,
the silence is devoid of your laughter,
and whispers,
and even the punctuation of your expressions…
NOW silent.
And.. you took the day offa work, to listen to my coughs,
to keep my germs company…
and even now i wonder, is it possible to love so much and never ever ever get it right?
Absently i forget that that future is written… as if i have a choice.

Nothing but the truth

i love how truth often masquerades under the banner of fiction,
dressing up or dropping its (metaphoric) clothes,
into a crumple of curiosity at the alter of our minds.
Bare butt or naked truth, never teases,
but sometimes scurries in shyness or shame or modesty.
I love how truth inspires,… and sometimes even erodes the fibres of our ego.

The Blue Eye shadow

The Blue Eye shadow has left streaks in your memory…. for 20 years before you met me. should i…. relinquish every shade of blue. Every dusty brushstroke, that has tainted a life you didn’t want. There are items in our past that haunt us all, sounds, taste, smells, thoughts and people, and still some wars never die. I will not haunt the hallways of your home… in my blue eyeshadow. My high cheekbones and chinese eyes and caramel skin, unfortunately, are things i can’t trade.

If’s and Ands and What ifs

Sometimes you’re my muse, and other times you’re my nemesis.
You make feel like I’ve used up every colour on the palette of life, yet you inspire me to find more… as though i can mix up rainbows with sunlight, and some stardust for shimmer, like i can sip melted daydreams in a cup of hope,
and you tear down the the hope till it dehydrates and contracts under your scrutiny, and you walk along the edges of my thoughts and peek into my dreams, leaving me wondering so often… what did i think of before you. And even that, takes me back to the first meeting,
the fleeting glimpse of you , in your suit, oozing magneticism and charm,
and my soul confessed, that’s the person I’m going to marry.
And we struggle and fight, and cry and hurt, and crumble and stumble in the world with so many if’s and and’s and buts and what ifs..
and what if tomorrow came and we were driving off into our new life together and you turned to look back on the people we’re leaving, and you  ask me “did we really just do that?”
and my smiles always punctuate the silence, and sometimes my tears dribble on the walls of this shield between us and reality ,
burning a hole into them, infantismal attempt to redeem what i once believed was reality dropping its guard and letting me peek into the future as if the doors were left wide open.
Its a funny way in which you find humor in my seriousness and ordinaryness, and you cease to believe that the things i do are enough,
the constant pushing at the boundaries of my talent, tickling new spots to discover sensations, and ideas, and sparks of brilliance that seem to surprise myself. And you never cease to be amazed at the big stuff, its just the quirky everyday me that makes you laugh, because you didn’t think to look at life upside down… and take in my view.
Again life serves up a platter of sanity, that you toss out,
only to try to reassemble puzzles that you’ve messed up yourself,
and i wonder…
how many times must i stand on the edges of your whims,
reminding you that i’ll be here when you wake up.
And for the final time, you will awaken, and i’ll be asleep like  ‘Rip van Winkel’ under a tree bare from leaves unscripted with fallen promises,
You Promised me tomorrow, but you didn’t get passed yesterday.