The thoughts that we have

adolescence adorable blur child

Photo by Matheus Bertelli on Pexels.com

 

What thoughts do I have of you tonight?

Weird dreams appeared to me wild and vain

Walking down the path to good health

I could not be much more self-aware

That under the Narra trees in summer

A sea of scent perfumes the air

And into the vortex a new aspire began

Profoundly spiraling a world that I didn’t see

And the flaws of a woman weren’t a diamond in his chest

That it may bore glitters of a sailing memory

So that you wouldn’t have to preach

Such a woman who bore her soul upon

The navy-blue rocks of her dreams.

What thoughts of me do you have tonight?

A well-furnished room for immaturity

Dangling chandeliers of jealousy

Lighting the room where putrid foals lay scattered on the floor

To the kitchen where boundless memories of a sick language

Engulfed. You could not

Even be more self-unconscious

How non-nourishing our lives have been

Stepping on sharp wet glasses and making

It a beautiful slumber.

Indeed. Beneath the pillows we let out a spell

That fairies of the future may wake us up one day

From this endless chant where no one knows

Even the cries of the ants on the mountain

Ridges hails the cry for help that echoes echoing

Down the ocean of fog and into this

Dominating self-realization

That our lives have consistently

Made a fall as we keep bouncing back to

The wooden plank we had set up for our own safety

Thus, it’s almost as if we fostered a dream

Where doves and butterflies we could

never see resting…and nesting…cocooning…

under the nurturing Narra tree.

What thoughts of a future do we have for one another?

Perhaps, a dream none of us can foretell.

 

 

 

When a person tries to heal from a past wound…

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She travels. Hermits. Keeps silent. Smile. Goes out. Meets friends. Laughs. Packs her emotions in a zip lock bag


But in her head.. Lines play on repeat. 

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Let’s hope I’m fine after I break my heart. 

I’ll still smile 

Like I’m allergic to tears

I’ll break the spell in style 

There’s no way you can wonder why

People won’t notice 

Cos

“I’ll be okay” even that will be rehearsed 10x.


The end.

 

“Think long term”, from the magazine I read.

 

Ten years, let’s say.

– – – – – –

Brain fast-forwards to 2027.

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“In ten years, will it matter?”, the head asks brain.

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Brain says: I ain’t done yet!