Diary

I open

my diary

with trepidation.

It's inked with patterns

of flashy loops and 

angry dots

tattooed

on pale pages.

Memories so obscure

and intense

my ears feel red

at the thoughts

I never knew 

I could have.

A letter - a photo-

falls out.

Of a lover -

or a best friend-

I don't remember.

My chest clenches-

I can't tell

if it feels like 

yesterday

or a million years ago.

Amongst the flowers

I planted at every corner,

more scratches and scribbles:

Some trains of thought

never reach their

destination.

Did they run out of steam,

or were they derailed by life 

unable to be

photographed?

I wonder what would have happened

if I had caught that train

yesterday- 

or a million years ago-

I'll never know.

 

.

How I long to console her

this past me

that nurses wounds with

tepid shots of optimism.

I wish I could tell her-

This girl

who may have died

yesterday

or a million years ago-

it doesn't say-

it will get better.

But I cannot make false promises.

I want to tell her

She will never be alone

that I understand her-

I always have.

I know the unfillable emptiness

between the lines of 

self-seriousness

and self-mockery.

The longing 

for a future that could be-

for a past that could not.

But I cannot make 

the same promises I broke

yesterday-

or a million years ago-

I don't remember.

Tattoo print
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/538883911640680431/

Ode to Socks

Perforated terse cotton

purple, black and white.

Luxury wrapped around

dusty

ruptured 

feet.

Protection 

against the poison stabs

of mosquitos and 

other quiet mercenaries.

Every monsoon tries to deceive me

into freeing my toes of you.

The intoxication of humidity

comes at a price:

an offering to tiny winged gods. 

When- eventually-

my head clears

and I choose you-

You-

without malice-

used to my weaknesses-

hold together my bruised feet

ever so lightly to truly free me- 

so I can sleep,

and I dream,

and I start anew.

How do I forget how precious you are?

You are unlike any other breathing thing!

Even as the earth kisses you-

I leave you to fend for yourself.

But others do not forget.

When I let you out of my sight-

the gods steal you away from me.

The cupboards consume you

The washing dissolves you

into thin air-

punctuating

my belonging to you.

Even when your soul is cut in half 

you are patient.

You wait for a being beyond purity

with your abandoned step-sisters-

united in your purpose

of protecting dreams 

and the beginning of new days.

So simple is

So 

simple is beautiful.

So

simple is

foundation or 

fleeting?

universal or 

unique?

origin or

odyssey?

fact or

faith?

essence or

echo?

I'm sorry-

let me explain

simply.

When the rain patters

on hot tiles

it fills up between

my toes-

the smell of life

churning in wet mud

rises up

embraces me-

I close my eyes

face to the skies-

I wait 

for the trembling 

hand of thunder

to reach my ears-

and dust 

stale taste 

off my soul.

So is simple.

Source: freshmadedigital.com