in moments when dreams and reality only compete for cruelty, i feel a helplessness circulating through my veins where has peace in my heart gone hiding the evening sky reflects geometric patterns of my grief if only fate was symmetrical if only i could have collected the colors of this sunset through your eyes if only these patterns could have fallen as a background and we could have conversed into the night there are shades in this world that only become meaningful when you come to my mind i want to write to you today but how do I address you now?
is there a new language somewhere sans the word goodbye?
you are the bird of my dreams you fly across these dark nights with our lost promises painted on your wings are you still waiting my love to hold my hand and visit some moments in history where our memories could once again be translated into a reality?
a displaced hunger lurks around it does not just attack the gut it leeches on to our mind making it weaker we are thirsty only to find that the glass in front of us is filled with anxiety-depression - stress - toxicity a noose, an edge of a blade, the spark of a fire cajole our tumultuous thoughts creativity becomes all about survival
sometimes we hide behind words sometimes behind colors and frames of fame but life stares at us unforgivingly as we rush to jump off the edge in hope to find a meaning if not of existence but of absence of it
This oscillate between emotional and literary experiments there are moments i am so close to the end if not for your words that arrive like an urgent intervention between me and the dark side of the mirror caressing the scattered pieces of my heart but my tears this evening long for the touch of your hand only they can stop the seismic shifts of fault lines in my palms