Saturday, 26 September 2015

Sketches in letters.

"I will find color in your darkness.

I will look through each door.

Put apart each house.

Dismantle each emotion.

But I will find your color

I will find you."

Words are lost. Words fade. You and I do too. (do we?)

The more I think, more the idea gets tangled up in my knotted head. They say I'm oblivious. I must be a little more obvious in my words. How beautiful is the game of expressions, how would I ever tell. The fury, the lull of a lover's quarrel, or the soars of a heartbeat under the star-night- write about it for me, won't you.

Brick walls are there for a reason. Brick walls are meant to be broken.

Mine are vulnerably monochrome.

Anywhere, and I will follow.

This isn't about me. This isn't about you either. Neither is it about the kids playing fire 'n ice on the terrace today. Nor did I start writing keeping the messages in mind. This isn't about my thoughts, or the pain.

Words over my head, I know nothing at all. Stumbling, falling, learning to walk, I'm breaking the habitual stability.