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soliloquy; ephemeral landings
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Posted on Monday, 30 June 2014 @ Monday, June 30, 2014
I wish there were words to describe how I feel now; the occasional jolts of pain coursing through my body, the warm flow of tears underneath the cold blast of shower spray, the torture of you not being here to hold my hand in the event of it all.
I wake up every morning to the sound of deafening silence and boiling water from the electric jug. I smell coffee, freshly brewed, and the rare sound of singing birds. I stare at the ceiling fan slowly spinning. One, two, three full oscillations. The red sticker on one of the blades helps me recognize one full oscillation.Then I watch the rise of the sun from the window. Normally it takes exactly forty-five minutes until the whole room is bright. On rainy mornings, much later. Sometimes, I close my eyes for a moment or two. Sometimes, I can remember the smell of your skin. Your eyes when you look at me in the morning after I open my tired eyes. The warmth of your arms around me, and your tender kiss on my shoulder and forehead.
I'd give all that I am for you to be here.
The sun never tells me much about the way you are there. The nights never appease the long days I have. It doesn't tell secrets, emotions. The moon shines bright, every night since I've been here. Strangely, even when storm clouds pass by. I can see the illumination and outline of the clouds. Like Sarah's little cloud toy. The one that lights up the cloud in rainbow colors when she presses the button? But it isn't like that here. It's all white and silver, sometimes orange. It's like the stars dance around the cloud and the moon. Covering up its flaws and separated edges. Filling in the empty patches of raven black with slivers of slight gold and amber. Who knew colors like that appeared in the night sky right here in the city?
But when you have the nights and silence all to yourself, sleep doesn't come so easy. It's cruel, crushing. You share the whispers of your heart with the broken pieces of your soul, the screams of your late night thoughts with the waterfall of doubt and hope. There isn't anywhere to cling on to. Clutching on a straw, everyday, wishing and wanting to stay put. On the sturdy, safe ground instead of the gushing, dangerous rapids.
I wonder how long will it take for me to let the straw go and just go where the water takes me.
We'll find out soon enough. |
Kaleidoscope of Craziness
I write to change, to express, to share. All pictures are mine, unless stated. Enjoy roaming around ;) Some people are destined to sing. To act. To host a talk show. To become a songwriter for recording artistes. To take phenomenal pictures from around the world. To teach. To heal and to nurse. To be in an orchestra or to play an instrument by the streets to entertain the weary passerbys. Everyone is destined to be an individual who'll change the lives of others someday in their own unique way to touch hearts and heal broken ones. Everyone has a destiny, a road to walk and a path to remember when you're old and sitting by the fireplace, reminiscing the old times. I believe mine, is to write. FOLLOW INSTAGRAM TWITTER Tweets
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Imprints
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♡ Claustrophobia ♡ Soliloquy ♡ Slow Dancing ♡ Promise ♡ Letter to a Lover #2 ♡ Block the road ♡ Fresh beginnings ♡ Letter to a Lover Credits |