An Orange Cloud

  Ive just completed watching “The Boys”. I feel so much that in the end, I feel nothing at all. As if, Like aceton, my feelings evaporate On their way from heart to brain I wish to bawl like a fool I get nothing, stay a disappointed fool.   The show, I never thought id watch it, until one day, I decided – fuck it- and started pirating it on a whim, I watched it everywhere like a bull Chasing a red cloth in the ring, During work and at the saloon, It only seemed natural to do it.   When the show first reached my radar, it didn’t seem like my type- still doesn’t, the gore is unbearably disgusting, the good kind (?)- but I watched it, Its been two stanzas and im still Yapping about liking a series That seems way out of reach For someone who watches mockumentaries.   Anyways, the dystopia, the apocalypse, god fearing citizens, the all powerful white man, all of it seemed well known, very familiar, But the layers and depth To eve...

  14-7-24 What would they think of us? Hell I wanna know too, idk what we are we are but as significant and insignificant as the star dust above and before us   22-7-26 I don’t know what we are The excitement in the air Is more enticing than the oxygen   The weight of social norms, The need to stay informed Teaches me everything but, The question still remains:   What are we?   Are we friends who know too much Or are we lovers in the next chapter Are we in the talking stage leading to something Or are boring ourselves to death?   What are we?   Were we connected in our past lives Or are we so opposed to what consciousness is Are we debating about movies Or about basic human rights?   What are we?   An example of icks in the other gender Or are we the models of standards Or are we too young and lost To be here all alone?   What are we?   Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

  on a trip to faraway land Freezing in the cold summer rain Embracing your warm pounding heart Naked in our feelings and pain Longing in our young hearts   The different shades of blue Way up above in the sky The orange sun-kiss glow on you As you stare in my eyes   I see a reflection of me In your sunset orbs Now you have so adoringly Lightened up my antarctic winters   You’re the summer of love You’re the chocolate cone You’re the cold breeze by the window You’re my home sweet home   A tight embrace Withstand the rain A strong hold In the windy way home   A montage of love In whispers and laughs about the world In debates on how it’d end In trials of becoming friends   Our laughs fill the room No space for dispirited gloom In the summer rain, we bloom Together till the tomb   Eyes squinted, cheeks pained We smile till we succumb to dopamine Time passes by in no vain Bec...

the warmth of sun and the cools of the moon   26-9-24   I’ve always hated the sun It was so bright And it’s the only one In the blue sky   I’ve always liked the moon Cuz it was cool And accompanied by The stars in the sky   I hated the sun I cant even look at it without burning my eyes I cant even walk outside without worrying about my skin I cant even reach it if I tried and be alive   I loved the moon I can see tiny craters on it with my naked eye I can love al the shapes day by day I can lean on it for moonlight   22-7-26   But the question remains, Till this day What do the sun and the moon Think of me, their human on the land   Does the sun summon the clouds when it shines too bright Or does the moon diets to see which phase its loved the most   What do the divorced sun and moon Think of the small human In the tiny land of home   Child of divorce, I call myself ...

  Reluctant (to) misery   Why shy away from something so natural? Why hate life and its byproducts?   Why always look for the bright side but hide away when the sun shines?   Why wish for light when it’s the dark that makes the contrast?   Why hate the heat when you wished for the light?   Why prejudice against the rain, when it blooms the flowers?   Why hide under the umbrella when rainbows are just above you?     Why hate the blue when it brings you the morning?   Why stay indifferent when there’s love to give?     The sunshine and rainbows, aren’t made in a day The storms and the thunders, don’t last all day   Embrace the cold breeze, For one summer day you’ll wish for it   Enjoy the dark night, For you get to see the stars paint   Love the moonshine It’s showering you with stolen light   Cling to the trees and shade For soon th...

  Eternity together, or leave when you can You become dust that makes the earth You become a memory in everyone’s head You become an ink in a dairy by my bed   Eternity together, and leave when you can We chase the butterflies in the green grass We drink lemonade by the sunset in France We watch movies till late at night   Eternity together, but leave when you can I search for reasons to keep you here I find issues to argue about in this sphere I act like we are not yet completely happy and content together   when does your life become more than the love you give, when do we feel content about what we become, when does our responsibility to others end, when can we leave the eternity and still make them happy?   A never-ending ever after and I leave when I want to The dust I become spells your name at the beach, My happiness will always have your touch in it, My second death will keep out till people stop loving. ...

 this is a poem i wrote while talking with a friend, as one does, and this is my interpretation on their experience of wanting something so bad that they romanticised it being bad. sit back and read a tragedy unfold. only a tragedy if you suffer from sever fomo. for others, its a normal tuesday.  I wanted it so bad, I’ve romanticised all its bad.   I dreamt of our first big fight Considered sulking for a while. I day dreamt our differences in values, About politics and shows to watch.   All the minor disagreements, Coffee or tea on a Sunday morning. An early bird and a night owl, stay up all night; Wake up at 11 to see you already working.   The veggie wars, no peace till no peas; You’d hide my dislikes in the curry. But I’m a black belt in picky eating baby, I can find the greens in a blended gravy,   Explorer and a familiarity seeker; New lakes, new parks and bird watcher Meets old shows and sitcoms re-watcher. To...