To those who are puzzles,
That don’t desire to be solved,
That don’t intend to taste day,
That enjoy the company of shadows,
That stare into space and just,
Have no idea what to feel,
Some say it gets better,
There are days you want it to,
They are days that you can’t,
You won’t, you just want black,
And you want to smash yourself,
Real hard and press that restart button.
I don’t know anymore,
Each time I call your name,
The delicate wind whispers back,
“He has gone to a place away from you,
And held your heart in his arctic grasps as he walked away,
Allowing it to touch the ground and,
Seconds later palming it against the Earth”.
The amount of veins that map,
My palm frightens me- and the blues,
And purples in them seem surreal,
For my palms are also red and so,
Are my protruding cheeks- and then,
There’s the brown mop on my head,
And the browns in my eyeballs,
And white stones in my pink mouth,
My skin is splashed with olive, yellow,
And hints of gold when bathing in Sun,
I feel colours everywhere but why is,
The atmosphere around me always,
Black and white?
the mornings are lonely,
why’d you leave?
it was beautiful,
when you were around,
my heart, now,
is heavier than before,
it pricks the heart,
sadistically- the ache i,
own, never stops.
Do you, sweet flower,
Miss my skin like I miss yours?
And does my smell fog your head?
Do my moles fall with the snow?
Does the bird in your lung long for,
My white piannisimo voice? My,
Heavy heart, don’t you want to hold it?
I plea, search for my brown eyes,
Because I intend to look at you,
For sweet, sweet delicate flower,
Do you miss my skin,
Like I miss yours?
Little bits of the jelly sea come knocking,
On the hard brown surface of my wooden door,
But when I peer through the glass of my windows,
I am greeted by shiny feathered ravens,
And when I open my door to invite bits of the sea,
My smoke black shadow waves at me.