@cyanessence graced by @Amanda84
@Amanda84
Hello friend! This is our pen pal chat. It means a lot to me that you are willing to spend even more time on me.
However, this doesn't have to be big. It doesn't have to be deep and meaningful. It can just be a way to keep in touch, for I too consider you a dear friend. I know life has a lot of demands and not everyone has as much time as I do right now. I am lucky. If I do get wordy, don't feel compelled to write as much. Short responses carry just as much meaning as lengthy ones for me, and sometimes being concise is a way to convey a deeper message than a long message ever could.
So, where to begin? What would *you* like to talk about? Anything and everything interest me.
I used to know the names of many types of clouds. The only one that stuck is cumulonimbus, a dense, towering, vertical cloud. I like it for its prominence.
I wish I knew the names of different types of birds, but the only one that's sticking is masked lapwing. They can be aggressive, but they stick their ground so you can sometimes get pretty close and take nice pictures.
My memory is not meant to hold information like the names for all things...
when my unseen turmoil festered
leaving my feelings deadened
small bird landed, on my tired shoulder
lost among sinking wreck
small bird went, unacknowledged
with it, taking last strands
of withered, wretched hope
my only holding wish
is small bird can fly
to another's sunken eyes
so that it may
finally feel it's worth
a feeling i could not have given
while lost, in the bleak, dark gloom
maybe small bird's song
will no longer go unsung
when it leaves another's shoulder
another, that can sing
even when ship sinks
*small bird 🐦 *
sometimes
i strive to find another
but, as i go on
i see, i feel
i will never see
never feel
another
for
i have spent myself
dreading cents
and no matter
no matter my lament
my misery will subside
without fanfare
without a hand
luckily so
i dread myself
i could not bare
for another to bare
someone so torn
cyclone of serrated tears
i only hope
my unending weathering
is never coped
by any bystander
i could never be happy with happy
bear*
Give me homelessness
in the harshest Winters
for, I will not cease
to break and bend rules
Why? Why?
I will not trade
my virtuous honesty
to become a gear
to run a machine
that chews its makers, those it serves
leaving all apathetic
A voice raised
may dash roof overhead
but a voice silenced
could leave all in silence
I will not be silent
in a world that screams
I will not be passive
in a world that teems with chaos
Shower me in snow
and I will still make a fire
that will leave all glowing
*micro*
Some mornings
I feel like breakfast
...consumed
-
Some things
are better grasped
when held
-
Painting the sky
can draw thy gaze
A drawn gaze
can be a view
of painterly sight
i have been
in the cycle
of the broken and torn
but i refuse
i refuse
to let the cycle
continue
lives are lived
whilst being lost
and while i am damned
i will be damned
if i let such madness go on
sure
i am no-one
but someone of nothing
can still fight
i will not let
the darkness consume
like it has consumed
me
let me be
the last to fall
so that the rest
can stand
and then, rest
@cyanessence
wretched is the thief
that steals another
what is stolen
is not all
that is lost
when body is robbed, integrity is lost
a dwelling built
cannot stand
when the foundations are made
by uncaring, crooked hands
what may seem decadent
could ignite desire
that rots the beams
supporting the house
thy body is temple
not home to invade
not abode to raid
when gaze is fixed
it is broken
failing those that look
preventing true sight
hands of pleasure displease
costing more than the price
festered is the spirit that reaches to disrupt innocence
The fiery grief of my opponent's defeat inflicted scorching wounds upon hands that once shook. With no valuables at stake, to them, something felt lost as cards were played.
I did not despise their enraged whinings... I changed my tune with each rambling. My hands were held, but with no feeling, aiming to leave target thriving.
My demise became saccharine, making them bitter. Parched by thirst I could not quench, they took and left me with apathy, company to keep when nothing is left. Taken by stolen theft, I refused surrender, surrendering to the festered spirit.
Each high of mine, for them, low. Every soar of theirs crashed into sea. I could not win without facing hate; could not lose without displeasing.
Tired of maze, I retired to labyrinth. At least here, among the silent walls, I can hear my misery fade, with no echo.
*no echo*
