Walking around together,
I hope we walk the same.
Darkness will come,
in this dream and weather.
Is where I’ll dig my grave.
The breeze and twisters,
falling trees and flowers,
Rolling heaps of dried leaves
and broken brooms and rakes
walk behind me.
I hope we walk the same.
What does it even mean?
It’s a thing you say just to keep them quiet.
It’s the thing you do to curb the uprising.
It’s a way you talk to hide the problem.
It’s the finger you raise to change the subject.
The thing you do to scale the protest.
The signs you don’t see,
It’s the meanings you don’t get.
You should take a break and see.
You should know before you rise,
The tools that cut you
were once under control.
A monochrome manifestation
of blood and blues,
orange and yellows,
curves and subtle triangles.
What can you love in times like these?
Photographs and painting outs;
Musics and writing downs;
All these arts that I am;
From the sounds of my heart;
To the views of my deepest dreams;
Beautiful that they are;
These I know.
Watch me do things weird;
As an artist, thinking different.
Consciously off the norm;
Making new things and things anew.
All these new creations;
I shall call them my own;
Proud as can be!
They were borne of my soul;
Each with a part of me.
Every lavender word;
Scratched off of my bones.
I let it be part of you;
As they are part of me.
The sun was on your face and you glowed in return.
You took a photograph and they were hid; all your hurt.
Broken and raw, covered up in sun dust;
Listening to the roar of insecurities and all,
Scolding at your face, yelling to keep shut.
Camouflaged beauty lion,
The one inside you is greater,
And you are not broken but raw;
Hiding in the coverup of sun dust.
Blessed are the colors
that spring forth good thoughts,
Like your face is the light of emotions;
Written down without words,
You light my mind up.
To speak of lost friends,
To speak of lost laughs and broken promises and lost truths.
That I love you, that I need you, that I’ll be there for you.
That you are the only one; that we are best together;
That these are now lost to the times that we once knew,
That all I can do is remind you of these times that we once knew.
To speak of being alone without you,
To dream of your presence just to feel better.
To speak of how you listen when I talk,
How each time I see you, my breath feels renewed;
How these are now lost to the times that we once knew,
How all I can do is remind you of these times that we once knew,
And speak like I am fine and nothing was missed nor forgotten;
I may fall to the floor and crumble.
I don’t want to speak of you.
I don’t want to miss you.