In half light and half darkness silicon truths metamorphose into camouflaged secrets you drink the venom in your heart and continued to hold her hand to narrate tales of galaxies and skies you never flinched to catch rose gold hope and pour it in the empty crevices of her wrecked soul when your heart flaunted a vineyard estate for the graveyard lies performing ballads on the tip of naked storms residing within you. Knowing your existence was a waste the desire to live a little more in this terrible world burgeoned from the comfort that lies between those midnight conversations and moonstone smiles.
Chasing shadows on empty roads you are repenting for a sin that you have not committed for she refused to believe your faultlessness, the sun tinged air resting between the embrace under the December twilight was the sole witness of him being merely a source of her escapism from the cloven wounds resting on her dormant skin. You stepped into the fool's paradise erected on cannabinoids pedestal and began the hunt for yourself lost in the ashes of your burnt fairytale tucked under the threshold.
Driving through the lanes of the lonesome city in the depth of night, you were highly intoxicated when a loud splash of water sliced the silence sitting atop the cold air and your insanity and innocence drowned deeper than the castigation hurled at you by a pack of wolves.
When was the last time silence felt so comforting?
Somewhere, somehow a concoction takes place, the sky sprays a rainbow, the colors are dispersed and the hues of beautiful sunshine finally fall on a face. A face of a stranger, they seem unknown yet somehow familiar. Isn't it a bliss to find someone who shares your madness in this distinct world? Someone with a spark like yours, a spark which exists nowhere else.
You talk and gradually grow closer. Closer like two opulent stars that rearrange to form constellations. As closer as the moon and earth can be. As closer as god and his devotee. You listen to her symphonies even amidst all the havoc. For a few whimsical and lovely days, the entire universe perpetuates the notion of unity. Unity in taste, unity in thoughts, unity in soul. Perhaps, you feel a strange perplexing yet enticing emotion when you look in her eyes and wish that she feels the same when she looks into yours. It is a feeling of mutual ecstasy. Ecstasy of two hearts throbbing in unison for each other. But one day, that feeling of hiraeth, that feeling of finding home like comfort and assurance in a person is suddenly faded. The person with whom you desired to walk in this journey of life has forsaken you.
'Didn't they abandon a part of themselves?' you wonder.
The curtains of destiny have fallen over the theater of your residence. You wish again, for all this to be just a bad dream so that you can wake up from it. You wish it to be an abstraction, a figment of your own imagination so that the hurt may be minimized and this seemingly permanent suffering may come to an halt. You are hurt. So you collect the remnants of your broken heart and go on a journey yearning to find an emollient that could mend your punctured heart and cure your intrinsic misery.
People, when they leave they take a part of your self with them. At the end of the day what matters is not the choice to give them that part, but to muster the courage to let them go. It took you a while to understand that people are not objects that can be kept forever nor are they an entity that can be sold. So now you never hold on to them. You know that they'll leave and when they do, they'll take a piece of you with them and you'll have a part of them in your heart.
So, do you still have the courage to let someone in? To let them close to your heart? So close that they can borrow a piece of it. Do you still have the courage to love? Or are you afraid? Afraid to let it blossom again. After all that you've been through. It takes courage to love when your sky was enshrouded with betrayal. It takes courage to trust just as It takes courage to appreciate the garden of life when you have already been through the dark valleys of death.
.......At last the cab drew up and left me at the pygmy “ KITCHEN OF JUDGEMENTAL”.
I stepped upon the wooden plank where the cauldron was left darkened and had lost all his lustre which could make it get back to the kitchen.
! p e e l e r !
Instead of knocking the obtuse door, we were the frequent species making moral evaluations and had put forth our tawdry criticism. Rather can we culture like a peeler which peels off the hoax substitution and peeps into the inner potato of pensive reality?
! whisk !
Instead, looking over to our human actions as their emblematic of the person, we sum the latch over into their minor bad actions. Rather can we culture like a whisk who choose to blend the assurance ingredients of comprehensiveness and gives an airy chance inspite defining a human by their first deed?
! colander !
Instead, hiroglyphicing our cast and loosing our labyrinth colony of criticism , we justify our pov’s as the truth and assert claiming it to be true. We preserve our pleasing misunderstanding in our own history of manuscripts. Rather, can we culture like a colander who is a carriage of holes, who strains out all the dismal inutile and signifies a root of chance to let people flow out and speak their root of optimistic commentary inspite blaming other’s force as their own faults?
! blender !
Instead, penetrating an unworthy lower to angel consistency from them and awing for them to be a wholly perfect creature. Rather, can we culture as a blender, who blend the cream of rectitude with his fastidious whirl and makes up things smooth, by knowing it’s essence of beauty it has by not asking for more?
! paring knife !
Instead, evaluating your regular outlook by grudging people by their frame of negativity and lately remorsing deep into distress. Rather, can we culture like a knife and look over it’s silver linings and use it to cut down humans misdeeds and dim narration’s and create a world of optimistic inspite living an awful life being a pessimistic?
! cutting board !
Instead, judging others over their typical elevates, we act as our own ideal meridian; believing ourself to be the best not knowing judging others elevates ourself. Rather, can we culture like a cutting board and lay down upon it grabbing the vegetables of concise adroit ; by having an eternity righteous thoughts and then cutting down the fruits of bias behaviour?
! oven mitts !
Instead, jumping over to conclusion and eagerly condemning them as a poster of poser we tend to loose the objective and on and on the analysis. Rather, can we wear the oven mitts and grab all of the facts and picture by our own adequate hands, with synchronising ourself from the aim , upto analysis and then stepping to their conclusions to know were they right?
! apron !
Instead, guesstimating people by our deem assumption acting to be a “perfectionist”,we tend to figure out their drawbacks, we loose friend’s. We don’t accept their livelihood and their unfiltered soul and confess them how they really are and how do they matter in their own way. Rather, can you culture like an apron which has a beatific rainbow upon inspite looking and engaging yourself in a black and white thinking. Learning to bear all the stinking water and dirt upon the dress can you learn the power of it’s tolerance and tolerate your ambiguity?
And, when i glance over kitchenette i see a human lying beneath every utensils. But, RATHER criticising over their beauty RATHER holding them when required , CAN WE clean our moral ethics CAN WE sanitize our bona fide authentic And clean our sink filled with utensils, with our untainted pollyannaism stencils?
The following is a piece I penned back in December of 2016. I like to repost it now and then to promote the positive self-love, self-worth, and self-acceptance themes. Thank you for reading!
SOMEONE by Carolyn Glackin Some day, someone's gonna come along and realize how AMAZING you are! That's right, and one of these days, someone's gonna look you over from head to toe, from top to bottom, and from left to right; and that someone is gonna realize that every single part of you is FLAWLESS! Some day SOON, someone's gonna take a look inside that head of yours and figure out that ALL of your thoughts are valid and meaningful and important! And then, someone's gonna get acquainted with that heart and soul of yours and realize how damn LOVABLE it all is and that the ground you walk upon and the space you dwell in is HOLY and SACRED! Then finally, someone's gonna figure out that this whole time, right from the very beginning, you've been nothing but amazing and beautiful, awesome and intelligent, kind and creative, fabulous and fantastic, wild and wonderful, and precious and divine and so incredibly LOVED!! And you know what? I really hope that SOMEONE is YOU. You've got to be YOUR own SOMEONE first! Copyright Carolyn Glackin 12/10/2016
Image Credit: "Girl at the Mirror," by Norman Rockwell.