The door creaked open. The 3 of them walked in. Two of them sat down, and the oracle said to her, ‘You’re late’
‘Im… I’m late?’ She stammers uncomprehendingly.
‘Yes’ says the oracle picking up a pile of books from the table. ‘These books are waiting for you for 3 months’
I pulled on those sneakers, that make me short,
and tied my hair up half the way,
added in some eyeliner
and i remembered how being this short, and simple ,
always made you say that i was ‘YOUR Girl’
The words are not enough when silence stands like a fortress of dense secrets which keeps reality away from the fiction painted for the world. Carmine colored lips, and clackity shoes, dragged along the seashore along with thoughts of life… new beginnings sometimes look empty and bleak. Recognizable freedom is sometimes as miserable as the invisible emotional chains that bind us.
“There was a pie, sitting on the counter , just waiting to be eaten” – i ate it, in honor of you, and your humour that i miss sporadically when the world reminds me of how there’s no human scale for being fair.
Its winter, and the tears seem to be stuck in the corner of my eye, slowly transitioning to room temperature.
You look like a geolocation, i smirk as a msg notification pops up on my screen. So close, but so far.
“We’re not addicted to texting, we’re addicted to the person that we’re texting”
You are like a million surprises. i am trying so hard… to leave, but you’re the gravitational constant that pulls me in, and under the current of life that drowns us, repeatedly.
What is the Geolocation of Home?
Decisiveness trumps hope –
Life loses meaning if you’re always waiting on a wish.