Of all the nights
and the beautiful days
in the thunderstorms
and the cold rains,
I knew somewhere within
we were not meant to be
together , forever
we departed as
the sky and the ocean
only to see each other
destined never to meet
But I still remember you
from a lost evening
when the sky bled red
blues were the only hues
the dogs moaned
and I waited for you
to comeback home.
I see everyone burning,
to dazzle the world,
people burning cash,
people burning fat,
people burning dreams,
just to be accepted,
just to be loved
from someone
sometime,
I find it useless,
to seek someone,
why not seek yourself,
why not burn within
why not dazzle yourself,
who knows
you might start
loving yourself
in between.
Far away
In a green land
near the park bench
where the lakes meet
and whisper stories.
I sit there
and read my stories out too
from the diaries
I wrote for you
to the wind,
lakes and
the universe
But I never finish,
Because you never left,
inside you are there
alive in every story
forever..
I do dread
the ghostly shadows
flinching and playing
with the mirrors
making faces
a new one every time,
they whisper in the dark
and laugh mockingly
behind my back
I do not get angry though,
they at least show what they are up to
unlike us who do the same,
but pretend to be angels
all the time.
even in the light.
She had raw love
the one you don’t find easily,
the one that is hard to play with,
the one that destroys you.
but you will still keep asking for more
because it’s a poison
that would end your hidden sufferings
because she can make you believe
with her eyes and love
that you are missing something within
you don’t fear death now
you fear those eyes,
that love,
this life,
without her.
Watching the window
she smirked for the life she had
seeing children play
and the birds fly,
she stepped up and spread her arms
jumped without fearing the fall,
crashed in the bed
she layed still
with the brushes and paper flying off
to the ground below,
everyone thought the window was a beautiful painting,
but for her it was an escape
from everything.
Writings to Heaven 