Confetti

& here stand I, beside my belief
While the confetti of a storm slides my skin
With everything that we are within my fist,
All I can do is keep breathing.

& here stand I, unmoved by
The shy hidden sun emerging
Behind once ashen clouds that shatter-
Shreds, after shreds into abyss

This is to the ghost ship,
No longer haunting,
What manifests & possess-
Have wrecked to dissolve into
Grains, and grains of sands

This is to
 another moment of change.

Postcard

Memories translated into unwritten letters,
Time remains still in captured pictures
& while I sit here, tying my shoelaces,
Awaiting the next train, 

Submitting myself to the destination of these foreign tracks,
I bid adieu, 

For when we meet next, it will never be the same

I promise to send you a postcard,
Addressed to you, dear familiarity
Stamped at the corner and dated on the day
I stopped calling this abode my own.

A thousand miles

I'm having one of those days where I actually didn't mind getting drenched in the rain while walking the streets home after work. Blasting Vanessa Carlton's A Thousand Miles in my earphones, singing at the top of my lungs [in my head] like I'm fifteen again....

My heart could possibly explode. I haven't felt this 'teenage' free and happy in a while.

White Daisy

I am a white daisy, I am not yours,
Owned by nobody, but you can adore me
I am not as beautiful as the crimson rose,
Nor am I feisty like the venus fly trap
I am the plain, cheery, and many

& there may be days you may find me a peeve

Yet some play games with my petals in summer,
To find their fate with 'he loves me, he love me not'

I am a white daisy,
& I will never be yours,
Like the Little Prince I hope
You'll continue adoring me despite my flaws.

Perchance a Sign

To speak, and search, perchance to find,
For what was sought, was nothing less, you hide
On these pairs of blistered feet, I decided to run
& walk, away from made believe words, to defy

So sink, and stabbed, perchance a sign,
Of hollowness that empties this soul, benign
Tongue-sweet words have spat, to spiteful bitter
I cursed and wrath hath burnt the stems once flourished to wilted

And breathe, I sighed, perchance in time,
To turn around, and return to the starting line
Submit half my heart to this circle, & realize
That I, the weak, am the victim of my own undefined

Run

Even though I am alone here, I just want to physically run and keep running and never stop or look back. Silly isn't it that I feel really trapped by my own thoughts? By my own fears. I am trapped by the past resurfacing. Pause. It didn't resurface. It was always there....I just denied the signs and refused to accept it. Is it true that people never change?

I think. And now here I am, with it staring at my face, pushing my limits.

& I just want to run. From being chased.

Because facing it would mean switching my values, forgiving and being the fool that believed in empty words. But something else is holding me back. Will staying and forgiving really make me stronger? 

Potted

On days when people can't make me feel happy.

Perhaps these three little friends can...