"i'll like a drop of rainwater refracting light...
and a dash of illumination across the endless dark too."

Sunday, September 30, 2012

you.

different steps,
varied paths.
no longer belongs,
so no belonged longings.

no, no metamorphosis;
neither direction seems fair.

can't figure out the logic,
can't balance the equations,
between over-expecting and over-compromising.

thus, ideals stay.

perhaps one day,
when it becomes crystal clear that you can never be replaced,
and when you feel the same way for me too,
that's when i know it's you.

but, never will find you,
because you never will exist.


you.
you and me.

"... cos it's you and me,
and all of the people with nothing to do,
nothing to lose.
and it's you and me,
and all other people, and i don't know why,
i can't keep my eyes off of you.

i don't know where to go from here.

something about you now that i can't quite figure out.

what day is it
and in what month?
this clock never seemed so alive."

so,

"... come and walk with me
to the edge of all we've ever known.

no, i could not want you more.

i'm not sure what this going to be.

when the time comes,
baby don't run,
just kiss me slowly."

Friday, September 28, 2012

chasing wind,
desiring to own that which could never be owned,
she is after freedom.

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Thursday, September 27, 2012

right.

right moment,
right words,
right person.

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Monday, September 24, 2012

predator.
prey.
arms race.

do you know what you're fighting for?
is this worth what you're dying for?

you show the lights that stop me turn to stone.
you shine it when i'm alone.

light.
you.
me.

tunnel's end.

i
don't
see
you.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

some never find it, but there are some who are led.

to meet one's need, compromise.
to fulfill one's want, search.
without a need and a want,
that leaves blue wisps and faith.

"... the one thing we search for, or fight to change. some never find it. but there are some who are led."

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

the many sides of a little fish.

... in a distant hut, a century old soul kept her watch silently.
she carefully crafts her facade and bids her time.
and all these while,
none truly knew.
those thoughts of hers

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Sunday, September 16, 2012

as certain as i was then,
i am unsure now.

something just doesn't feel right.
something just doesn't seem right.

perhaps... it was indeed the idealistic notion i was after...
a tale, as old as time.
because many speak but few listen.
because many destroy but few build.
because many want but few are willing to sacrifice.

sometimes, being silent does not mean i don't have my own thoughts and opinions.
sometimes, letting you have a larger berth does not mean i am not aware of the boundary between us.

sometimes not fighting back is a choice i made, 
not because i am unable to, 
but because i don't want to be
you.
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Thursday, September 13, 2012

ripples within ripples.

your strong walls, she never ceased to notice.
yet those silent, invisible webs she wove,
you probably never even knew they existed.

like the flight feather she held in her palm,
a mystery, she carefully conceals.

her mind, the boundless sky.
she sees.
like a dandelion,
she dances.

so many of her, everywhere.
what's left of her, explorer?

if you still believe you've read her well enough,
continue thinking this way.

for its so much easier to take an apparently white piece of paper,
as a piece of white paper.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

unraveling the line between the sky and the sea.

if there were only one sunrise,
who would you catch that with?
if there were only one sunset,
who would it be?

for there is only one sun,
and there is only me.

yet the horizon can be seen from everywhere,
and one's thoughts may be as far reaching as the sea.

perhaps,
as the last petal fell, so has she.

perhaps conquests,
have to be made at the right moments.

perhaps,
there's still a part of her which she has yet to learn about.

you and you,
wherein whose hands lies the thread?

Thursday, September 6, 2012

bubbles in an empty tank.


blank pages... written? unwritten?
wrong pages... flip? over-read?
... scribble? close?

books and shelf,
waves and alp.

mindful rest for a sleepless mind,
for a mermaid i am not.