On a winter evening When I walked past the dark streets Having no idea of where and why You guided me as the moonlight And I discovered a part of me which I never knew existed in me Every night, the firefly producing bioluminescence that passes by, asks about you and I tell her
"He is a collection of paradoxes Controversial wreck and a classical mess Around dozen personalities in one Who is predictable in his unpredictability A poet in relationship with rhymes Who lives in a cozy world called metaphors, Walls decorated with cursing verses, Furniture that bleeds pain"
"Wait! Is he a satan?" Firefly interrupts me.
"No! He is no sarcasam sarcasticbong who is as hard as the moon to own but the silvery luminance he produces is for the universe to own."
@sarcasticbong I can write and write yet not get short of words to describe you. All I wanted to say is THANK YOU AND SORRY.
Ingredients: A cup of Love A cup of Libido Tongue decorated with metaphors Ten fingers holding poetries Mouthful of verses A pinch of submission Few artistic skills to paint the canvas
Before going onto the procedure, add these for extra spiciness: Set the mood right. Set some candle lights all around your room, playing your favourite music in the background. You can choose a perfume to evoke the pheromones. Have a shot or four to get intoxicated.
Procedure: Pour a cup of love and put the flame on low. Now, read her body with metaphors decorated across your tongue moving from chin to below side of her neck. Run the poetical fingers from her shoulders to curves of her chest and place mouthful of erogenous verses around the curves of her mamilla. Pass a pinch of submission until your souls connect and unfurl a tender electricity increasing the flame so the pride in both of you evaporates. Now pouring a cup of libido, dance over her naked body as she spreads her legs like a canvas hankering for the artist to paint her colours. Wanna be the best artist? Paint her blue, divide into her water, drown deep into her until she sway her hips like the waves of an ocean. Keep drowning until you sense a grape juice produced within the petals between her thighs.
he stirred the kind of love that would make you want to stay The kind of love that'd make you want to hold on stronger, didn't matter how feeble your pulse got
the kind of love you would wander in search of your whole life in the thickest of forests under the deepest of oceans only to know that it was growing in your backyard all these years
the kind of love that smelled of cigarettes and leather, like bikes on a highway, and dim lit lanterns like cinammon sticks in an aging wine
the kind of love; physical you could be kissing all night and still feel completely oblivious to his touch the next morning he could make you feel at home with his one gaze, and leave you feeling stripped naked in the middle of the street while you lay beside him wrapped in silk sheets
I have been thinking about writing to my best friend, it's been a while since we wrote to each other on the yellow postcards that travel through places to reach our door. I love the certain calm that it carries, where you don't have to worry about instant replies. You can take your time, one word after another with your shitty handwriting to make it personal. You are not doing it for the sake of it, but for the human connection that it holds. A sense of belongingness in a world that is always in a rush.
Sometimes you know what to write on the places left on the card for a destination, but you don't know what to talk about. Sometimes you know what to talk about but don't know the destination. Isn't it always a struggle? Not just waking up every morning but trying to find that human connection that pushes you through the days till you collapse into a night?
It's been ages since we talked, we aren't the same people back when it all made a lot of sense in a simpler world. I think, when people drift out of this edge of familiarity, you feel alienated. It is like, getting thrown out of this world to another where everything that you touch wither away. Do we belong in the wrong worlds? A reality that isn't quite ours?
It is such a painful thing, to share the pain of another when the night falls heavy on your shoulder. How do you tell someone that you want to die? Not because you are sad, but because sometimes it makes no sense as to why you wake up to fall asleep again. We walk in and out of these contradictions of death and living, trying to come up with some lines to keep holding on for a few days, few more letters that arrive with the summer rain.
I don't remember what you feel about rain, whether you hate the way it falls on your skin or loves the way how it drowns you to the depths. But there is something so familiar about it, with every fall burning your summer skin, you feel like a human. It is unfair of us to pour our sorrows away into the late-night conversation when you don't know who walks on the thin line of blues. Yet, on some nights, it feels safe to drown in the open ocean with a familiar face to pull you out to the surface.
There is a constant war on our minds, whether we want to be found or to be lost. It is hard to figure out where this journey is taking us, yet we walk like we know the destination. Like, letters. You don't know when they will reach your door, but it makes you feel connected when it arrives with stories you never knew from worlds that you've never seen.
We yearn for this connection, a connection that is not tied to the binary strings but takes its time to reach you. In another world, in another time, pulling you back to the edge of familiarity that feels so personal.
We are these blurry lines, fading shadows, mere outlines of remembrance. Lost between light and dark on the edge where the world falls out of its existence. How long are we going to be lost, before we collapse into mere stories about the part of us that always wanted to be found, always wanted to return?
The inspiration behind this is song called “Mad hatter"by Melanie Martinez and “Is it just me" by Sasha Sloan. The song and my poem is about being okay with being who you are. I have many favorite songs with mix genre, it's quite difficult to choose so I posted this late btw hope it's not messy but if it turns out messy that's okay cause I'm a mess.
Note: I try to be kind to myself so I'm kinda sound proud here lmao