21/9/13

You were nothing

To say the least

Just a blank canvas of which

I

Poured my desires

My longing

To love someone

To have my heart attached to

I

Painted a picture from memories

All the small things like

Seeing you that day at the café

And the way you stared at me

Although we had never even met

All those constant glances

When we finally became “friends”

All the deep stares across the room

I

Collected each gaze

And put them in this lovely little

Glass jar

Poured them on the canvas

Each time creating a myriad of desire

A thread of expectation

Each time we’d laugh

I’d

Pluck those moments and

Lay them on the canvas

And when you hummed

Or sang

To your favorite song

I’d

Offer my paintbrush and stir it

Through your voice

And so very gently

Drop it onto the canvas

….

It wasn't always you, it was me actually. Forced your favorite bands, forced our similarities, tried to like what you loved, tried to be what you liked, tried to ignore every one of your flaws; your arrogance and narcissism and nonchalance and selfishness. Every time a promise of ugly showed up I’d close my eyes and remembered the way you looked right at me that day at the café. It was the only thing that made me cling so tight, the hard coat of gloss that completed and finalized the painted canvas.

It was nothing of you. It was all of me. All that I wanted. You were just a blank canvas of which I poured my longings onto.

|This was written on one of my smarter moments. Smarter in the sense that I could pick out this mass of emotions and finally articulate this complexity but with sad, bitter honesty. Tbh, when I read  it again I felt a massive wave of sadness wash over me. Out of all the things I'd written about the whole thing, this in fact, was the saddest. And well, I hope it'll be the last post to wrap up and I can finally forget all this nonsense and just move on because there is more to life than just clinging hopelessly onto some other nonchalant entity. There is always that longing, you know? That constant ache to attach yourself to something that promises so much more. I've wasted far too many feelings, but there is a rush you get out of it.

Here's to my emotional betterment, and yours and to all like me. The new school semester is going to be a great one. Cheerios to all of you :-)|

What i would really like to do is to have anyone, literally frickin anyone who'd write poetry with me and then we'd leave it in between pages of library books or tape them to staircases or doors or the sides of chairs.

Hope fervently that it would cause a sporadic effect of words and make a person's day.

I wish.

20/9/13

The blood of the youths run

luminous  through the night

Pulses with passion

Races with heartache

And desperate to fill the lonesome

Desire flows in the night air

And the moon,

The moon it stays white and pure

And it watches all of these things

The youths think they have to endure

Mindless fun for some

Sore pulled strings for some

So close yet so far?

Is this who we are?

Beyond the late night adrenaline

Are streams of pretending

The darkness enwraps us all

In a blanket of delusion

I'm sorry I cant finish this it just seems so senseless idk I really just don't know ugh so much lack of  inspiration I never usually post poetry unfinished but whatever man I can't think I'm so lost

13/9/13

Weaving through the seams of people who all had a sense of direction; seeing everybody laughing aggravated me inside and I’d just go home after my tests, plugged into my music, avoiding people and hoping I wouldn't bump into anyone I know.

I saw you one of those days and you did a double take at me that lifted something in me, tugged at the corners of my lips and made me smile, just a little.

We were waiting at the lifts, not one word exchanged.

“Alright then, this is it. I am not going to see you again.”

And that was it. That day was enough to fill me up, it made me feel a little strange within but I felt less than hollow. It was enough. I hadn't expected much.

1/9/13.

My feelings come in now because my mind is just this spangled mass of thoughts. I ache every day since the last day I saw you. I look out for people and I compare them with you. All the time I think, ”he walks just like you do,” or “he carries a bag just like you do,” and “he talks just like you do.” I am so very afraid that someone else is going to fall for you, hard, just like I have. Maybe even harder. And what would be worse? You fall too. You think they’re right for you. The stupidest thing of all is that I cling on to this image of you because I actually don’t really have anyone else. Everyone has that one closest friend they tell everything to. I don’t. Because right from start, before school started, I told myself I wouldn't need one. You’re like this treasure chest, this blank canvas that I pour my heart into. All my accumulated feelings of falling in love and being deeply enigmatic, I channel them to you and I long for them to be kept with you, tightly sealed in you, this vessel. Most of the time I am so very sure “you” are this image I paint with my memories which I address. It’s so frustrating, it aches, I can’t even explain this strange phenomena.

27/8/13.

There are reasons why I am pretty much satisfied with the thought that we’ll be changing classes. There are people that I just cannot stand, and having their big mouths impeding upon my potential dampens my mood nearly every day. It prevents me from really outshining the rest. I hope the second semester will help me ignite my passion and remind me why I chose this course again. There are people that I learn from too. How is it that people are so passionate and disciplined that they are able to take the lead and herd the rest of the team members into facading excellence?

And then there's you. Seen way before school officially started. All these weeks of pretending have catapulted me no-where. It is funny how I cling onto his image to define my longing of falling in love. Maybe nobody sees it how I do. Maybe everyone else is way too blind to bear witness of these two entities stealing glances and teasing and closeness. At first I was the one who claimed my falling and thus it proved another example of people laughing with distaste at my choices.Well, hasn't it always been this way? People always making fun of my decisions or the one that exudes this pull on my heart?  Let me be honest, I do move on pretty fast as long as you’re not constantly in my face. It has happened, I will not deny it. And maybe that’s why my human attachments with people never truly last.

And the moments when nobody else noticed but me. I never understood what I  wanted, and maybe you didn't too. And all the moments of ignoring, after we engulfed ourselves in tingles from our companionship; your breath on my shoulders, my eyes on you.

25/8/13.

Where you stand.

You are this untouchable tower

of which I

twirl my fine, unsaid words around you.

Coiled around your every curve

Fitting in all your lines,

whispers so faint you don't know I am speaking

Intertwined into clouds of invisible words

For you, I fell so hard

Uncountable crossing lines

In all the silver instances

Pretending you were mine.