Mar 19, 2012

Spring

I thought I had gotten over the emo teenage phase for good when I left here 5 years ago, but it seems like this place brings out the grunge in everything. I can feel it calling from behind the concrete. I hadn't actually properly listened to grunge in years, yet it's all I've been listening to for the past few days.
Maybe this is why I have been malfunctioning lately. If I were new age I'd say I feel like my aura is polluted or I got a blocked chi or something.

This is one of my favourite albums of all time. It's just so beautiful.




Anyway, I wrote this poem once when I unwillingly fell out of love and suffered the consequences.

Things are finally starting to fall back into place.
I am becoming healthy enough to go out and 
about again
doing the things that make me unhealthy,
important decisions are being made,
projects are embarked upon,
things are ticked off lists
and lists are getting smaller.
My manic friends are calm for now
and waking up to see the shattered glasses
of their madness and
confronting dreams,
and the underwear is finally washed 
and hung to dry;
there's even coffee in the house,
begging to be brewed.


There's only one thing:
the Sahara is back.
It blew its grainy doubts this way,
it crept in the sheets
and bit my ankles and my thighs
as I lay under the dark blue sky
of the shesh,
each fabric fold holding a threat
of stars.


I have left my love to die.
Thirsty, dehydrated, hallucinating,
longing for rosewater
and caress.


To the sound of the lonely flute
wailing through the hollow wood,
I must walk the desert alone
and listen to my gods.

Now, I wish to willingly kill my love and give birth to a new one. So here's to looking ahead.

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