You, li’l kid.

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Confused
Unaware
Amateur
Ecstatic
Miserable
Insecure
I’ve loved
Have never felt it
Stuck in a rut
Maybe I never left it

A rant from my eccentric self.

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Untitled.

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Someday we’ll know

Where we’re heading

Where to go

About these high highs

And the low lows

Even if we’re

Uprooted

Unattached

Unsure.

 

Meart

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Click
And there they were
Between
Warps and wefts
Bare skin and clefts
Amid
Words and stares
Caresses and layers
Through
Giggles and grins
Fears and wins
Click
And there they were
Waiting for the meart to say it did.

-To made up words and experiences!

Flutter

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A thoughtless rant,

A history unplanned,

A short delay

In the end of May,

A clubbed ride

With a courteous divide,

A shared story,

An unsaid worry,

And the silent cry

Of a strange butterfly.

Photo by Annie Spratt courtesy of unsplash.com

08:10

 

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Red ties, brown socks

Little books, Google docs

Lanky frames, big aims

Chins up for the game

Blue pants, white shirts

Wide eyes for what it’s worth

Morning rush, silent murmur

Evening bustle, footsteps firmer

How do you look at it?

Image courtesy of Pixabay

cloak

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they don’t see the laugh
the talk, the walk
forget the jokes, the art-rock
the crinkle, the quirks
the passion, the works…
your situation is who you become
no matter how far you run
as who should say
it’s bigger than the parts
that make up the one

_

This post is loosely inspired by an Oh Wonder song called Overgrown, which is about being there for a loved one whose depression seems to have taken over their personality .

 

bloom

photo-1439894671367-1904e126d8f1oh, bloom, little one

let the sun drink your hues

let the air carry your song

don’t be afraid to let loose

let your arrival be bold

you will be your own muse

 

Photo courtesy of Jimmy Chang via magdeleine.com

Up before nine

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all of my plans, piling on

all of my friends, moving on

all of my dreams, getting buried

this failure of a life

it’s not what I’d foreseen

but today,

I’m up before nine

smoke in my hair

dust on my skin

and sun in my eyes

young and careless no more

sans escapes, sans lies

 

Photo by Annie Spratt courtesy of magdeleine.com

WIP

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when I’m working,
I don’t doze off to escape.

when I’m working,
I forget that I’ve gained weight.

when I’m working,
I don’t touch the scars on my face.

when I’m working,
I don’t think about the closed gates.

when I’m working,
I don’t worry about my thinning hairline.

when I’m working,
I don’t feel the heaviness on my eyes.

when I’m working,
I find no  joy  in whining.

when I’m working,
I don’t have to find a silver lining …

 

 

photo by Anubhav Saxena, courtesy of Unsplash