You sip your tea Staring at a sky that looks so different As September dies in the distance Setting as a marker for your indecision Perhaps more honey Sticky sweet memories Sensations for a tongue Silent Numbed Tasteless Nothing satisfies Craving bitter dregs instead As twilight turns to evening The cup is resting on the table And the night looks so different As November's waiting to be born Somewhere in the world she lives already Premature to your reality She exists five hours ahead As I try to catch up to nothing Time is a demon Walking to the back door Stepping into the kitchen It looks so different now To my right the living room is empty No furniture to speak of Boxes of another life Piled in the corner Books and other people's dreams Stories never read Poems to strangers Collections of wasted time Notebooks filled with self-indulgence Lovers, ghosts, and fantasies Nothing to build a life upon Words as wedges, walls and bridges Words as match heads Sparking flames of love Flames of anger Fires of passion Of poison Of nonsense Burning down To embers To nothing Leaving only ashes that get caught up With Autumn breezes Blown as kisses From the lips of distant lovers The taste of tea and honey lingers As nothing special Only as something to do A ritual of habit such as sleep I awake to November She was up before the dawn Stepping outside the air is chill A cold cup resting On a table of my discontent Half empty and tasteless Useless Wasted Staring at the dark of morning My life is so different now The sun rises and looks The same as when it sets I walk back into the kitchen And make another cup of tea
yuktibhatiaaaHi, I really liked your way of writing and would love to have u as the co-author of my upcoming anthology 'The Broken wings'. If interested do connect with me at @yuktibhatiaaa on insta. You will be charged a minimal amount for it. just drop into my DMs pls dont mind if I have already contacted u. just looking for a few final authors.
yuktibhatiaaaHi, I really liked your way of writing and would love to have u as the co-author of my upcoming anthology 'The Broken wings'. If interested do connect with me at @yuktibhatiaaa on insta. You will be charged a minimal amount for it.
A body shot of words In rapid-fire succession Confessions in the dark Blind to love’s regression You spit and spat with rat tat tat No feeling when you’re done Killing quiet No regrets Little darlings dance with death Hold your breath and count to one Back from five four three and two Yet who knew? The me or you? The twain to mark a depth of reason Bitter seasons often taste Of waning summers Winter’s waste Like red on snow or crimson stains Will melt with sun or stinging rain Again who knew the me or you? The moments lost we contemplate Too late, becomes a test of sorts Graded on our love for loss The best of three, fill in the hole A soul, a heart, a flowered dress? When all else fails it’s wise to guess A consequence of conscience, yes? Spoken wheels or spinning words Tongues in conflict split in thirds Deaf ears falling no one heard It started when I could not see Thirty two or three degrees Secret mischief poetry thief Silent messages of grief Just the facts Suspend belief The wants and needs you feed to fools Like silly rules you cannot keep And who will tell a truth from lie Where and why the pale blue sky As backdrop for the clouds you spy In shapes of things like future’s past And waves of love that never last It’s flash and flame and point and blame A problem by some other name Like games of chances one the same Or finding sparks inside a flame But back to front and front to back Acceptance of the life we lack Attacked for every color scheme In strokes of effervescent dreams It seems no matter Mindless chatter Canvas for the lines you splatter The hate you choose We can’t undo The path to death is tried and true In increments of mad contempt In sad refrains of “ifs” and “buts” In passages like paper cuts With purpose do you bleed? Into cups of blood and mud The mortar for the bricks you lay Creating walls with words you say It may or not be, then it may But save that for another day