Random post #1.

Last night felt like the thousand and one nights. Only more mournful than the soil of a cemetery and sadder than an obsequy. The bed felt like a phlegmatic thorny fabric. My trembling body was swirling around the blanket, which only felt ice cold, chiefly, because of every hidden non-promising memory in my closed eyes… I was only left with disappointment and flashbacks of when I used to believe that pledges are more robust than an ephemeral desire.
My stomach felt like a battlefield. It hurt. In point of fact, everything was hurting. And lamentably, I had nothing to do but to bear the pain and the echos of thunder in my damaged heart…
The void was invading my body. Not only braiding its infinite narrowness around my rib cage but also injecting my WHOLE too-broken-body with silent hurricanes and sore emptiness.
It wasn’t any kind of void. It was different. very different. I could tell from the way it made me feel..from the way the trust I handed to someone else was squished like a piece of paper in a fist, smashed and crushed like glass leftovers…
Let’s talk about trust!
Why do people cheat? Why do they lie when they don’t mean the words? …
“I want to make you happy.” Did the words sound too heavy on your ears? It is quite funny, but tragic to hear lies when you already know the truth. Sooner or later, everything peels off. Then, only remorse will occur. And unfortunately, it will be too late to attempt to bandage the wounds with ungenuine words that don’t even match actions. Trust. One word. five letters. It’s very brief. Just like how any long meaningful story could end…
“Heartless”? I think the heartlessness remains in how trust could be abused.
It’s not like you…It’s not like us…

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Take me back to the start…

The rain drops felt heavy on my head,
It hallowed out my mind like a stone,
In a way that caused your pastel memories to sled
down my spine and then left to be thrown
in a fountain of lost wishes and faded images.
and of misty stories from different past tenses…
It took me a while to find myself again
as finding the lost Atlantis under Spain.
You stroke me like an express train.
And there was no time to pray for salvation.
No time to flee from the fast destructive cadence.
But It wasn’t the sharpness that maimed our reminiscence,
nor the bloody years of bitterish unfaithfulness.
It was the abruption of a sentimental apocalypse.
Great and dreadful as the collision of two sinking ships.
And I had to be the one enduring all the hardships.
I had to be the one with half-heroic damaged heart,
With eyes filled with tears in a world falling apart.
Oh take me back to the start…

A year hence.

A year hence, I’ll distinguish between the Polaris and the Asterism.
The swarm of wounds and woes will make me a constellation guru.
Sitting on the roof, succumbing to the blue obscurity above me as fatalism.
And I’d perpetually eject spaced words of sad poetry about the ongoing overview.
Until the flow of words endure stagnation, until then,
I’ll be bursting the silence with overdrawing stoic expressions.
I’d spade up my memory until I meet your face, until then,
I’d play back, in my head, all the paradoxical situations
to understand why does your heart have to be infinitesimally large.
I was electrified and I was even keen to capture one more electric charge.
One more charge of another twisted lie and another loud cry…
A year hence, I’ll have the dexterity to analyse Shakespeare’s sonnets.
The counterfeit words you spoke, would make my soul smoke cigarettes.
of ancient literature and romanticism…
of life quotations and humanism…
The idiosyncratic thing about miracles, is that they seldom occur.
And when they do occur, there’s always an unidentified blur
afterwards, just like your strange loving and caring states
I was under the debt of believing thee, carrying hefty weights,
of unkept promises and dry silly excuses…
of uncertain pledges and heart bruises…

The loss of my gem.

The clock was ticking…The faded white lights were giving an intense headache…the scent of the bleak room was screaming sickness and death and all we had was 2 hours before the sunrise, when the blueness of the sky invites again the birds from all over the trees, performing their harmonic routine, singing their morning symphony declaring another happy day. But we weren’t happy…Before the big bang… when the shreds left from the explosion cut the strings of our hearts detaching them from our bodies and making us bleed until the last drop of blood is poured…Before the unique exotic treasure is extinct… and the mystery of its magnificence is forever gone…Before the last molecule of oxygen is consumed when the inhaled air makes the motionless body laying on the bed appear more dead. All we had was 2 hours and of course, it wasn’t enough. Whatever time we had, it was never going to be enough. It was tragic but my heart was too broken and too devastated to feel anything. And that’s what made that tragedy more tragic. All I could think of was a hurricane and an earthquake.
The scene in my head was that the hurricane went through me and broke all of my bones. As for the earthquake, it was shaking the phlegmatic ground under my feet until suddenly I found myself in a deep dark well.
All those people who came and went into our crowded house were just instilling more misery and melancholy in the walls that could tell beautiful stories of the past…in the pictures that were staring back at me and in every corner of that house which still holds many memories. They say that time can heal wounds, even the deepest ones. But I think that’s not true. The wounds are never really healed because time only hand you the gift of forgetfulness when you learn how to be patient… So the scars are always there as a stamp of the sad history and the mournful past.