Friday, March 07, 2014

do

these pages does not bleed like how i do. this ink does not have even the smallest inkling of how i feel. in this stasis, my emotions runs the gamut of white to grey and black and then back. a surf of the sea of surfeit sullen melancholy of ships sunken in between darkening daylights and the bright of night. i can never endure, days of young and nights of old without you. to come and breathe life into me anew and skew all nothings into a slew of shapes and promises broken in two.

i am accompanied by these shadows of you. where you used to be, right beside me. where the light brought upon the shadow of your body on my feet, where i lay in grey in repeat. sometimes, doubt casts itself in a deliberate iconoclast for memories, and i was faced with the conjuring of such accursed trivialities. i have stopped the world once, just to watch you swirl into my favourite colour. under the irreverent tender of incoherent whispers. the promise of not being under asunder, forever and ever until it rings into a cover under the darkness, as we persevere.

it is only a matter of time, that it gets dark again. as time and space moulds into a lovecraftian horror that my mind conjured into this reality anonymity. i submit my incentive was romance, and that it sets a present tense, as i watch the stars in a dance. only after several onlys, that the idea of lonely succumbs to the cranial acupuncture of missing that punctures through the loss and the grossly unfamiliar. we are both under the influence, only to speak of truth on that night we are used to be confused and that the promise made was what we ought to make. that night, it started with a simple touch through the amalgam of hues, red and blue.

the tangent intelligent and the circumference arc of conjecture. the π/pi that equates to the approximate equal of 3.1415. i desire nothing more and nothing less. as you make you through the dark abscess and the dark recesses of my conscience. only in the lab do they make do, the things that makes right and then two. we have seen it all, and the letters sprawled on the wall. the coming, and the unbecoming of our warning through the times and spaces.

will i see you again, in the state of such common and uncommon stance. will i dance with you, like how we did before in our steps of two. do we do, what we did before in a state of awe. do we take the light and soak in the sounds, and measure the details in an act of science so profound. will i find you, in the hours of the night and in the middle of nowhere at the lost and found. will we be here when each of us have left. will you start to live, when we stop leaving. will we visit the jetty of regret like we always do and how we used to. will the rain wash us away, like once there was dismay and we bid farewell in love's sway. will we shine like how the sun used to, a million years ago. will we be the same under these skies, without any other thing to bind with, our ties.

will these questions ever stop?

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