Its A Chilly Autumn Morning. You Are Snuggled In Bed, Vaguely Aware Of A Rhythmic Pattering On Your Roof,

it’s a chilly autumn morning. you are snuggled in bed, vaguely aware of a rhythmic pattering on your roof, and dim cool light in your room. you fall back to sleep, dreaming of nothing but warmth and comfort. you awaken again, a few seconds before a a soft rumbling of thunder sounds. you have nothing to do today but listen and enjoy

did i know you?

i still think of you

a passing thought in my mind's traffic.

i pay no attention,

"ignore it and it'll go away"

most days, it works.

but some days, in the dead of the night

when the darkness engulfs

both me and my musings,

it does not work.

it does not work and I reach out,

clutching that thought,

clinging to it

the idea of you.

the you I've built in my head.

the you who's soft as the petals of a rose,

comforting like a cup of warm chocolate.

but it isn't real,

it never was.

the real you pricks me

like the thorns of that very rose;

the real you is cold, indifferent.

or maybe,

i don't know you.

my mind deceives me,

there is no black and white,

only a grey haze.

as my fingers hover over your name on my phone,

i pull them back.

maybe I know you, maybe I don't.

maybe I miss you, but it's not enough.

your thorns have pricked me more than once.

so I still think of you,

but I'll never let you know.

idc

I don't care

I draw hard lines in the sand

Only to watch them swept up by waves

I don't care

I say to myself as I watch you

And her do the same things we did

I don't care

I tell myself as I see

your name on my screen

I don't care

I think as the songs fill my ears

And your face fills my mind

I don't care

I tell my friends

when you come up in a conversation

Because to admit

the opposite is weakness

It's giving in to you

It's disappointing myself

It's all the times

I went running back to you

when I knew exactly how it would end.

In a twisted knot

begging to be untangled

In nothing more than grey,

nothing more than ashes and dust.

I don't care

I don't care

I don't care

I repeat

Until the words lose their meaning

Until you're nothing

but a faded photograph

Until I can't remember

the exact sound of your voice

Until I can't recall

the things we used to talk about

Until you're nothing

but an afterthought.

“What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don’t know and I’m afraid. I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.” - Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

i ignore you for months

barely sparing you a glance,

rarely acknowledging your presence.

you've been by my side for years

saying nothing

as i break parts of you,

replacing them soon enough.

And when i fall asleep on your side,

you silently let me.

allowing my fingers

to dance down your neck

playing out melodies;

tunes sung on my command.

and when i scratch at your surface

out of sheer boredom

there is not a single word of protest.

the callouses on my skin

are a small price to pay when

i leave you for months

fascinated by someone new.

you watch soundlessly

as i hold someone else in my arms;

a new temptation this week.

but you know I'll come back

and i know

that when i do,

you'll welcome me with open arms.

This is about my guitar lol

Colours

pink like the roses you gave me

like the blush tinting my cheeks

like my lips lifted into a smile

blue like the ribbon binding the flowers together

like the infinite sky above us

like the little birds chirping their tunes

green like the leaves of those flowers

like the soft grass beneath our feet

like that four-leaf clover;

handing you my luck

orange like the sun’s rays

streaming in through the window,

bathing everything in a warm glow.

silver like the ring encircling your finger,

like the one identical to mine

like the stars twinkling in the night sky,

when I fell asleep in your arms.

gold like the pendant glinting at my throat

unlike the promises

that you made to me,

and broke.

white like your t-shirt

before it was stained with your deceit

like the little lies you told me;

till I didn’t know what to believe

black like your wavy hair

silky to the touch

like the murky air

that’s suffocating the two of us

grey like the storm that’s been brewing

lightning striking in flashes,

like those pink roses,

the ones I burned to ashes.