four of a kind

Poetry

The woman confused the girl
with no social cues

The girl fell for the man
with an awkward bruise

The man delighted the boy
with no smart views

The boy cried for the woman
with some awful issues

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glass of comfort

Photography

Comfort comes from a glass at times when one could not find it anywhere. A cup of tea is no different from a shot of vodka, or in my case, a mug of hot tablea.

Photo Challenge: Liquid

when laughter isn’t enough

Bitter

I’m generally doing okay in the state where I’m in right now but sometimes at night I miss the feeling of tears falling down my cheeks. It’s weird but at the end of some days I find myself longing for the me from months ago, anxious and crying effortlessly because of a lot of things, or the lack of some. Is it just me or does pain really grow into you that you’d go looking for it at times when your life seems boring?

Daily Prompt’s Laughter.

P.S. I wrote this October of 2017, I don’t know what got into me. Anw, it would be nice to hear your thoughts about it!

lips and roaches

Poetry, Strange

Your lips
are the rim of an aqua coffee mug
crawled on by roaches
I would never dare let mine touch again.

Yet your voice
is the sound of an expensive violin
stroked by a fine bow
I loathe how it could still disrupt my ground.

Machiavellian eyes

Poetry

Slow songs

and shuttle rides

A sleepy girl

with round eyes

Heavy traffic

and long sighs

A cold heart

with invisible lies

Clear skies

but confused mind

Countless whys

yet turning blind

The sleepy girl

with invisible lies

Keeps haunting me

with Machiavellian eyes

puppet or partner

Strange

Did it ever occur to you that the same letters from the word listen make up that of the word silent? And how much I freeze when the thorns coming out of your mouth as harsh as the wind touch my skin?

Have you ever considered looking up the dictionary for the difference between a puppet and a partner? And how much of a mannequin I become whenever you place your hand on my shoulder?

Did it ever occur to you that you were in a relationship?

Have you ever considered I was part of it?

Did you ever even think about me?

And how your unwillingness to concede would make me leave?

The Night I Walked Away

Poetry

Then the stage lights dimmed
As slow as my heavy breathing
A band of nine started to sing
As I walked farther from him

It was a night of pain and glee
Though the songs hit me badly
All my illusions became blurry
Then I turned light and free

The band stopped playing
But the lights are still dim
I casually left on a whim
Without him even caring

The Golden Boy

Poetry

what is there to be bewildered about?
when the sun glows on your skin
and the flowers bloom in your heart

what is there to be confused for?
when your skin touched my bones
they radiate with light
when your heart caressed my soul
the pigments intensify

what is there to be doubtful of?
when my bones start to burst
you come out for the sun
and bury me deep in your arms
when my soul turns to gray
you keep weeds out the flowers
and paint me back with fire