will anybody tell me if i’m missing out on life?
will anyone write me a letter just so i know?
and everybody seems to be making a film, a compilation of their thoughts right here, right now. irony is, i’m wasting my words on the wind, across the telephone wires that stretch inside my head. and when i am brave enough to speak my words out, they are spoken to you alone. what about the rest of the world? how will they ever know?
you made a film with your friends. i guess that’s what you do in youth.
me? i used to leave my colouring books blank for fear of spoiling them. funny me.
and whenever creativity came to me, i wrote the words, drew the pictures on scraps of paper. i still have some of them. little pieces of my mind written in quickhand.
and though none of them relate to you, all that i remember of X is there: they are silent exultations, utterances of pain and dreams. they are free.
sometimes, i still wish i coloured those pictures in.
and sometimes i know there’s no use wishing: it’s all too late now. i’ve sketched my life out in this morning sunshine. whatever happens now was always meant to be.
Posted in Uncategorized
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above the mountains, touching rooftops
where dreams are made through Kais and Gerdas of tonight,
their flowers – moondust
eclipsing the broken shells of sky.
i tell you, soar,
as if there was no tomorrow – who knows
if there will be a today.
i see horizon cracking at the edges, burdened with heavy clouds
of rain. cumulative correlation of cumulous clouds.
the very thought is raining on me.
so build your wings, Icarus:
i keep one eye in those clouds to watch over your flight.
as though you might not make it.
Posted in excerpts
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you didn’t think to tell me
how you loved me
but i dreamt it up myself
and now i have a dream in every colour,
each shade: swarovski bead of glass,
reflections merely shadows
scattering in front of us.
i didn’t ask you to love me
you didn’t ask me back
no one asks the sun to shine.
but it does.
Posted in excerpts
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one more year nearly over but this time i won’t attribute it to anyone. no, not to you or X or Y. it wasn’t mine either for it took me on a ride, spinning me around on a carousel of heights. and i can’t see the lows, looking back into all that time through my rose-tinted glasses. i can’t.
lets leave them lurking in the shadows, where past has teeth and broken dreams, like glitter, pave the floor.
i’ll visit them again. i have before.
and i believe.
i believe that one must welcome a year in with the colours of its chinese animal; that one must drink a glass of champagne as the clock stikes midnight; that the way one spends new year’s eve will be the way one spends the year.
my supersticions supersede any norm of rationality, but darling, you said so yourself, i’m the luckiest person you know.
believe that there’s some truth to supersticion after all and drink champagne tonight.
and it’ll be the night when i will set the sky alight, our paper lantern flying up above. i’ve found love.
Posted in chapters of my life
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i’ve realised not long ago how shame has filled the crevices of my life. and yesterday i let it out on you, because in all this time you hadn’t realised.
you bought me presents that i liked, you told me things i longed to hear but deep inside me there was always fear of shame. and now you’re walking streets with me, early in the morning, carrying my cargo of paper and shame. just for today. this burden in not yours nor ever will it be.
and this song’s alive in me and you can hear it, but you will never feel it the way i do.
so hold my hand in yours, my dreams scattered on your palm because i’m a dreamer and dream too much. let this free soul forsake it’s body and fly into the open sky like a red kite soaring amongst the stars.
and i want to tell you you’re closer than you were tonight,
but today we’re further apart.
Posted in chapters of my life
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