"Tout Seul"
"To you, as you sail in my passenger seat" I dedicate these words to Seul as her dead eyes float in the empty waters of my soul. Faithful in everyway a quiet voice in my room as i rest. For how many years have we been together that I've laid beside you distanced from others. Closer than friends through my phases of life trying to understand everything I never felt alone as a pair of hands were my support. If I ever needed a friend, a talking companion, an audience for a solo concert, you were sitting in the front. Never has my anger in words or deeds harmed you Seul. We laugh at other couples fighting for prideful thoughts, their affection is thin and fragile like dying leaves. So easily plucked and moved it breaks and drifts away. The sun shines down through branches piercing the flawed lovers with needles dissolving past fond words.Walking together under cloud's close wing with my hands kept warm, such a firm presence you have Seul. I'm the roaring tide under moonlight's glare. I howl at night so that only you know its for you. Sweep the clouds away so that I can see your magnificent form. I raise my hand as Seul slides between fingers, wrapping around my arm as my lips become her target. When celebrating the wine is shaken too much spilling on the rug as its midnight treat spoiling the mood. Extra bread and coffee in the morning warm up the kitchen. I lean on the screen door waving to Seul as she eats on the green patch of lawn encircled by fresh sheets of snow. Seul were you person I wished for as I ate the cotton candy flavored snow as a child? So I look into her beautiful eyes and Seul stands inside my soul drifting aimlessly on the oceans."Seul,whats love? Ive lost the reason of rings to celebrate it if most people break them so easily? Sometimes I feel myself closer and faraway from this emotion to rise and fall, to uplift and submerge." Seul told me that "lovers have no meaning no fortune, nothing and we are more". So I'll believe that because I am lonely. This purgatory state filled with cream clouds is relaxing. I sleep dreaming of her french kiss for when I awake I'll be covered in feathers.
"Thinking Tone"
I wish I knew a song to make me feel...I don't exactly know but how it feels seeing someone after knowing them personally to exchange words as if talking with a stranger. The glass figurines upon the shelf will be cleaned off even though yesterday they were treasured pieces. When I see you I breeze by breathing deeply, air throwing my hair into a ponytail. Our breast don't touch, arms untangled, and fingers said goobye a long time ago. Falling out of love with each other as the clouds separate and our shadows are no longer touching. The world will turn and the skyscrapers will never touch the sky reaching on their toes to swirl their fingers in a cloud. Recurring themes and words are like dirty water circulating through your sewer. Is history really moving forward because I think its similar to cleaning clothes. Dirty clothes go into washing machines then to drying to be worn again. Wrestling in now dirty kisses washed away in my tears that dry on my sleeve to be played again with a new partner. If the words of my song doesn't make you forget about me then I hope the snow sends my letter thorn to shreds adding rain become wet kisses. I close my eyes and imagine what brought us together. So many excuses to say how I fell on the ground but 1 truth to never admit. How fast you were to walk with pride and anger away. I swear as fast as the lullaby began I heard instruments repeating an apocalyptic theme. I decorated the table in lavish dishes yet only eating a ration did they gather their coat to leave. However, the infinite rotating sun and moon continue with the weather that sometimes mimics the forecasts of the old days. Cherry blossoms will continue to fall with the want to bathe in them increasing as each petal descends. Snow as dead wishes falling on my tongue suffocating the sorrow. Rain threw the ceiling into a pot substitute the dry eyes when I wanted soo much to cry. I am fainting to the thoughts of fantasy and truth in my springtime of youth. So play "Stella by Moor" and as I walk into the bathroom I see you standing there smiling so strong. As i say "I would hate you so much that I want,yet I don't have use of anything with your name attached. So here is where the nostaglic beat ends." A hypnotic rhythm to induce amnesia to the heart is humanly possible right? If this was made into a musical masterpiece then possibly this question would not hint of being rhetorical or simply a seed washed away in a flood.
No comments:
Post a Comment