He said,
“My poems to you-
You can’t write on WordPress
You can’t scribble down-
pass over to friend
This is how I make you feel like
Like a teenager again
Like it’s excessive oxygen to breathe
And now you can’t even look directly at my face
And now you can’t even breathe”
and now I can't even breathe
To find the perfect tone
From thousands and thousands
Even if it does not matter
Even if it go unnoticed
How important are testers
Before the big commitment…
Thank you so much for the Dragon Loyalty Award, Trina of itsgoodtobecrazysometimes; a blog I love.
•Display the award on your blog.
•Announce your win with a post and link the blogger who nominated you.
•Present 6 deserving bloggers with the award.
•Link your awardees in the post.
•Write 7 interesting things about you.
1. I have a cat tattoo above my heart.
2. Art and love- reasons I live for, fuel that makes me keep going, been bungee jumping and gambling with my life for them.
3. Believe in God.
4. I have a secret love for things that are second-hand; books, furniture, jewellery, clothes and smoke.
5. Happier I become when I cut my own hair, sew my own clothes, bake my own cakes.
6. Given up on trying to figure myself out; a straight or a curve line or one that transfigures with time and love.
7. I am a gypsy minimalist and things I truly consider as interesting about my life, I can’t mention here right now, not yet.
I wasn’t drowning I guess;
no abience nor screams
Sinking I was I guess
I am
I will be
Slowly yet steady
Sinking without a cure
Sinking protesting a cure
Old habits of screening and numb
It was harder yet easier that way
But a knock on the door
can cause a lot of things
Anxiety to some
Lifesaver to some
Yes, a simple knock
can save a life sometimes
I wasn’t to come here now
maybe for a while
maybe forever but
You made me now
You made me
A cat
on the shore of a hidden island
with a smile on her eyes
saying a meow of thank you
I’m glad you did
Of good things to come by…
Up to the point- that I give up crying- put on lipstick- go out for breakfast- but have no breakfast-
sit in a corner- next to the window- sketch the Christmas hanging- on the window pane- silent immobile- walk back home- and look at them
The joy
of
realising- that I am not
moving on-
so that
the mountain
will have to
then
The mountain will have to- move its fat ass- walk heavy slow rhythmic thuds towards the cliff- with one last huge sigh of disappointment will have to jump into the sea- teal splashing all over the place- seaweed and sea creatures subdue it
Up to that point- I’m done with this life without you in it- and stubbornly refuse to move on
So the mountain will have to
So the mountain will have to
So the mountain will have to
Nine Lives 