Contradiction
Across my old diaries, I remembered me riding into words. Recalled the moments I used to dive in a story book, figured a refugee through the rhymes of 101 poetries..
I think I was living inside a bubble of mystification, gathered inside a knot through other galaxies
I was a daydreamer, wandering with my mind, even when words fail to maintain a posture in the lines. I used to stop between the commas, figurerd a place to hide when the cyclone evacuate the city.
I saw me one day sketching some branches from which I could never realize. Somewhere, from within the soul, someone emerged, I used his shilhoutte drew his figure on my walls. He kept me safe, warm, and happy. I did cry, everynight before going to bed, counting 101 strayed sheeps. Starred many nights into the vague of my thoughts, he was always there, he talked to me when everyone left to pray.
I think I left when I turned 11. Drifted into the blues, across a river, I planted some flowers. I never recalled the colors, but they were blue. Blue as the song that used to play on my records. " Blue moon you saw me standing a lone without a love of my own"
I slept one night, left all the choas at bay, the crayons I held on hands, smeared my wisdom away, maybe the sketches that never made sense to anyone made themselves alive. I think I saw them walking,moving between the lines, they kept themselves busy. Hoped for a place to be pretty. I colored their lips in colors, drew a smile on their eyes, but a tear battled its way toward their chins.
Misery, was it the last book, I found at the bookshop, or a book abondend inside my shelfs. Hidden, covered with dust, away laying inside the dark.
I still cant remember where I will hide all my stars, one night at the near far, promised myself I will be there. I never promised others the impossible, just promised myself to be better. Near or far, I will be better, I am battling, and will still do.
I caught a line from a newspaper, somewhere in a grey coffee shop, They said grey is the color of neutral, to stand with no point. To be mingled inside a jingle.
I woke up again, from a nightmare I used to spare. The time was ticking and the clock has stopped since a year. I stumbled through my search, maybe the light was dim, and maybe there was none.
I think I was living inside a bubble of mystification, gathered inside a knot through other galaxies
I was a daydreamer, wandering with my mind, even when words fail to maintain a posture in the lines. I used to stop between the commas, figurerd a place to hide when the cyclone evacuate the city.
I saw me one day sketching some branches from which I could never realize. Somewhere, from within the soul, someone emerged, I used his shilhoutte drew his figure on my walls. He kept me safe, warm, and happy. I did cry, everynight before going to bed, counting 101 strayed sheeps. Starred many nights into the vague of my thoughts, he was always there, he talked to me when everyone left to pray.
I think I left when I turned 11. Drifted into the blues, across a river, I planted some flowers. I never recalled the colors, but they were blue. Blue as the song that used to play on my records. " Blue moon you saw me standing a lone without a love of my own"
I slept one night, left all the choas at bay, the crayons I held on hands, smeared my wisdom away, maybe the sketches that never made sense to anyone made themselves alive. I think I saw them walking,moving between the lines, they kept themselves busy. Hoped for a place to be pretty. I colored their lips in colors, drew a smile on their eyes, but a tear battled its way toward their chins.
Misery, was it the last book, I found at the bookshop, or a book abondend inside my shelfs. Hidden, covered with dust, away laying inside the dark.
I still cant remember where I will hide all my stars, one night at the near far, promised myself I will be there. I never promised others the impossible, just promised myself to be better. Near or far, I will be better, I am battling, and will still do.
I caught a line from a newspaper, somewhere in a grey coffee shop, They said grey is the color of neutral, to stand with no point. To be mingled inside a jingle.
I woke up again, from a nightmare I used to spare. The time was ticking and the clock has stopped since a year. I stumbled through my search, maybe the light was dim, and maybe there was none.
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