Before we were trapped, we had nursery rhymes in our smiles and technicolor cartoons in our eyes. Marigold cheeks engraved with red constellations carved by English teachers and moon craters for dimples. Before we binge ate cynicism cookies, there were slices of sunbeams for breakfast and playdoh dreams in our hearts.
They didn’t tell me growing up was nurturing houseplants of responsibilities and often failing to water them because you are binge-watching a DVD of nostalgia on nights when loneliness sublets you it’s house. They didn’t tell me growing up was walking in circles in my room past midnight trying to remember the face of my imaginary friend. Dimming in my mind in slow motion like the night mode of my phone.
My heart and mind are caught in a bar brawl and I am writing a list, 101 reasons why I do not want to take a bath in a tub full of cheap barroom whiskey. I am under so much pressure, that every time I yell about my mundane frustrations, a diamond falls out of my mouth.
This year you saw morgue taking human walk-ins and loneliness getting into a life long committed relationship with humanity. Homes appearing in claustrophobic nightmares and dream-catchers sanitized in alcohol, freeing your past demons because the present time is an infinite while loop of a horror movie. Demons are lurking in empty hallways, past demons seem weaker in comparison.
But tell me, Why do you Love?
4.5 billion years from now, the Milky Way and Andromeda will intertwine in the Newtonian snow globe of fates,
The ‘survival of the fittest’ humanity shrinks into indivisibility, smolders into supernovas in outer space.
This four-letter word will exist, an irrational number in binary codes of continuity,
Because you and I are matter, uninterrupted and indestructible beyond infinity.
The Epilogue of Wanderlust
Wanderlust etched in the calcium of her bones,
Sprinkled like the dust of pixies in the carbon of her soul.
Searching for a pair of arms and a soft smile to call them her home,
On the streets whose names she can’t pronounce where directions are written in a foreign dialect, she rummaged and roam.
Rummaged and Roam.
1. Thank the person who nominated you.
2. Post a quote for three consecutive days (1 quote for each day).
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Quote of the Day:
Every morning, awoken by the silent screams of her soul,
Like the convulsing tides of the misty ocean reaching on the shore.
Carbon soaked nightmares found tangled in her dreamcatcher,
Heart <a href="http://Toxic“>intoxicated with the fatal poisons of broken matters.