…and my cries died in the wails of nature’s misery…

 

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I am bound by the cartilage of winter’s eerily molded teardrops that drop once in a while as if a reminder pinning on my eyelashes saying, careful- my family’s on the way to cheer you up this dull gray morning.

As if that doesn’t deprive me of the beautiful things that I could be but didn’t choose to.

The dawn does weep Christmas wishes and I hear laughter echoing through the plain walls of my house, from miles apart; and the unmistakable giggling of over enthusiastic children.

My heart couldn’t bear anymore the rhyming of two rhythmic soul’s catapulting in each other’s calligraphic aura through rosy hues.

I draw unbroken heart shapes in the breath of ‘nature’s’ long echoing sigh on my bleary window but was easily mastered by another wave of agonizing misery of her wailings.

I lost the last heart again.

And after umpteenth effort, I stretch my sleeves hard enough to cover my finger tips listening numbly to the ripping of my heart. This sweater covering my feeble body from the desecrated cold has seen its better days. So, I ignore her protest in wanting to cover my fingers.

Somehow I feel like a mannequin stuck inside a clock; unable to move without being slapped by the needles.

And you are a parchment paper in which I have written my suicide notes as a will to the roses that have stopped whispering my name in your hands… but you give me them anyways since you can’t bear the thought of the thorn piercing into your bones, tattooing my tragedy.

Dear silence, bid me farewell to the moon where shadows don’t backbite and bicker.

Let me paint melancholy in the desolate part of the night sky and die a bluish death… so that I can smile happily believing that I just stopped becoming a story as the ink died in my veins.

Apple tart melody and salted pillows as the stage- Meditation Fail.

 

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I tried meditating in the sun, pouring through dusty slits of defiance; while I let myself soak in the morning grace of Sunday’s profanity. Its bread and blasphemy for breakfast with a little bit of bitter truth, for syrup, you know. I don’t know how it’s supposed to be, but I close my eyes irritated by the incessant knocking of unmelodious belch that needed to move out from my dormitory. I didn’t let it go. I gulped down fresh breath of cheerfulness and rotated my head like a slow song. My eyes fluttered.

Is this how serenity’s supposed to be? With angry ringtones in the tip of my throat croaking ugly sonnets throughout the day while I tried to capture as much positivity that the universe’s throwing around. Well, I guess today is not my day to earn myself a tan. I once again tie my knot and sit straight with head poised like a statue wondering how long I should be seated like this to embrace solace.

Once, inside the tranquility, I guess… it will ease my tent and let loose the parachute in the wind. I don’t know where this is moving me, but I guess it has to reach somewhere the sky is always periwinkle and clouds soft as cotton candy. I ignore the dancing dust particles that look happy with the only attention they get when in the strip of lemon syrup. I blow hard; hard enough to disrupt their slow pacing around like elegant ballerinas. I did not open my eyes. I smiled.

I listen to the slow rotation of the minute needle. Like it’s taking a stroll in the greenest garden. I wanted to open my eyes and search for the finish point in which I will get my bag of crayons so that I can set to paint the future in one straight line and add too many colors for happiness. I deliberately ignored black and banished grays. I, also do not need white, since I am all done with stippling freckles in place of where the wetness have left stains. I am all done with jumping from this tense to that sense, since, I can never stay in one place. I seriously need that red dot to focus but all I see are too many happy specks dancing around. Some, even giggling.

I sigh, then open my eyes, slump shoulders, uncross legs, and roll my eyes at the decision of heart to relax. I dared to look up at the waltzing needles and gape wide… it has been only fifteen minutes since I sat down, dwindling in the strong morning rays. So much for peace and optimism. I threw my yoga mat and boosted the rotund fat belly of a black liar and shook my hips to the blazing tunes whilst I let it go in the shower.