Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
My Poems - Blog Posts
WARNING FOR SA UNDERTONES ⚠️⚠️
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this is a poem i recently wrote about how someones words can affect a way you look at someone even by not knowing them. yes this is from personal experience, and my partner is aware of it and making sure i feel safe. after some thinking i’m pretty sure it’s just the other person’s words affecting my opinion on this person. they haven’t done anything to me, and i just had a out of the blue nightmare about it which is why i wrote this. read with caution, thank you
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Met Someone by Rumor
if it was a nightmare i had late one night
why must i still feel his breathe on my neck
if it was just a worry
why do i feel eyes watching me as i walk by
if it was just a feeling
why can i still picture his smug grin in the corner of the room
i’ve barely talked to him
he asked for a pencil and smiled
i said sure, only one conversation
one other conversation, one much different
told me how he, the same one was weird and creepy
told me what he is rumored to have done
same man who did those things to me
told me about another man’s doings
why must i believe them?
believe them so deeply
that they haunt my nightmares
haunt what i otherwise would see as a successful young man
one who has a future
but instead people talk
and now even around people i love and cherish
i feel eyes watching
his eyes
his eyes that are blocked by sunglasses
will i ever know if the rumors are true?
i dont think i want to find out
however for now
ill let the man who sits in front of me
ask for a pencil and write his notes in peace
Door open in my room
Now I lie in my bed
my window is open wide
I don’t have to be outside to feel the cool breeze
I can hear so much
The wind
The birds
My dog’s breath
My pen on paper
Leaves rustling
Cars rushing by
My brother’s laughter
And the tapping of my own fingers
The sky is turning purple
With the purple comes comes a cloud of calm
And a gust of joy
I want it to stay this way
(Perfect temperature, perfect sounds, perfect peace)
Forever.
Art Museum
In halls of wonder, vast and bright,
Where colors swirl and dance in light,
Where walls stretch high and ceilings soar,
And stories whisper through each door.
Each brush stroke whispers of a tale,
As if the canvas begins to exhale,
A hint of passion, a shred of pain,
The artist's soul within each frame.
From abstract splashes to portraits grand,
The beauty of the world at hand,
In every brush stroke, every hue,
A story painted just for you.
With every step, with every breath,
A masterpiece in every depth,
A world of wonder, there to see,
In each exhibited symphony.
So come and wander, lose yourself,
In halls of magic, in halls of health,
For the joy of art is always here,
In every image, every cheer.
untitled
I feel like I am totally invisible. At home and everywhere else. Like I could say something completely earth shattering, and nobody would even acknowledge me.
I feel like everything I do is taken out of context, like I could be with someone who said something wrong, and it would be my fault.
I feel like I will never be right. I can’t trust my own thoughts, so why should I expect others to?
I feel like I can’t share myself fully with anyone because I know that they would leave so fast.
I want to get better, and I am putting so much fucking effort into it. Into being, looking, feeling, smiling, crying better. But it isn't working. At what point is it no longer worth even trying?
Old friend
I am so glad you are back
That you weren't gone for too long.
But I know it hurts.
The decision you made was hard, and I feel as though I don’t deserve it.
I don’t deserve to be the reason you chose to be happy.
The reason you chose to leave her.
It feels nice, I suppose.
Like coming home.
Like wrapping myself in an old quilt.
But it also feels like exactly what it is.
Coming back to an old friend.
God
Why?
Why would you suck the color out of life?
Who ever saw a sunset as dull as this?
What cause did you have for stealing the pigment of humanity, if not to hoard it?
What is gained by poisoning a love so true?
Is Godliness not salvation?
Pic via pinterest
You were like the sea
The delicate intimacy of you visiting my dreams. Only then I get to see you.
The sea, with all its hurricanes, all its storms. It reminds me of you.
Watching you fall in love and out of love. But never with me.
You were like the sea, with all its stillness. And all its peace.
My intense longing for you to stay. So hopeless yet so ardent.
Because just like the sea you were. Always changing yet so persistent.
Tw: self harm
Autumn still
The spring air is filled with laughter and serenity.
Not something to be tainted with my goddamn tragedy.
But I am alone and my wrist is bleeding.
Despair surrounds me like death to the grieving.
I don't know peace; I perhaps never will.
For my disconsolate existence it is autumn still.
Pic via pinterest
The Artist
What are we here for
If not
To become the spectators
Of the cosmic artwork
Unfolding before our eyes
The cosmic artwork
Of a blue sky
With rose strokes across
As the sun's about to die
Over the far horizon
Only to be born again
The next present
With a new light
The cosmic artwork
Of the birds singing,
On birth of light
Each sunrise, of the clouds
Swaying and changing hues
The cosmic artwork
Of each little life itself
The chaos seemingly random
Binding us all with one life
Of the artist itself.
The cosmic artwork
That created nature,
The mother herself
For she's the artist of
the cosmic art,
Her eyes glittered in awe
Of her own self.
.
.
we dream, we dream and we die between the melancholy and ecstasy we call life, do we live for once? or are dreams only to die for?
☆☆☆☆ -mauli
Some people get too agitated and irritated when there loved ones try to correct them or teach them something. People who care for them try to give them their time and help them ,huh, what can someone do when a person doesn't know they need help.
These people repeatedly get their blood boiling and think they know everything. And at last , people who care about them, stop caring. They stop . And that is when you know that you aren't even worth someone's time and word and patience.
You lose some precious people while they lose nothing .
"Life is a series of random events that happen between birth and death.."
They said. They said out of utter innocence... Or maybe ignorance.
'Random' is when something SEEMS chaos.
Seems...
'Random' is when we can't understand or find a pattern, that satisfies our human brain.
But one day just
Stop. And observe .
Observe the tiniest bits,
instead of seeing the big picture,
look at the fine details.
That is when , you'll see.
In the mind of God
this world was created.
Nothing is random here.... Just so intricate ,
it is hard to comprehend .
But just try, and you'll realise ,
that it is not cliché
to say that ,
Everything happens for a reason ,
cuz it does.
Some butterfly, flapping its wings in any meadow in Australia,
can cause a hurricane in Africa and we'll never know.
not like it means to or even realises it can ,
but it can .
If you can't
respect her ,
even as much
as your fellow 'men', your 'bros',
don't even bother
loving her
in the first place.
Cuz you don't even know
that respect is above
all the love that you can show.
Love comes complimentary
with respect and true care,
but they might not come along
with the sole love you show her.
" Your beautiful magical words mean nothing if you don't have a heart and mind to compliment it."
" If you don't mean whatever you write or speak, you are just a simple hypocrite. "
"You aren't fooling anyone else then, when you lie with those beautiful lines you write, just yourself. "
Unresolved
Scraping past a tooth, a fingernail grows thin;
The last evidence of a life lost in time
Is this dead keratin.
Swirls from the mind, consuming everything,
Cement uncertainty in the soundest mind,
Loosening grip within.
Each day starts anew, by popular belief;
Yet all is the same except the white numbers,
Not turning a new leaf.
Moving, yet static motions of tumbling grief
Are borne by bodies smoldering to cinders,
Never able to leave.
https://twwrt.wordpress.com/2022/11/21/unresolved/
Tuesday, 20th July 2021
At night in quiet solitude of the passing day
I turn the yellowing pages of the waxing moon
Molten in a burning light to show its age
And cast in pooling stains of inky blue
It glows in flickers of a dying candle light
Wrapped in a purple wreath, delicately crowned
An encroaching darkness consuming the night
It dims its eyes to rest amongst the drowned
Monday, 19th July 2021
I have scars on my knees from when I was six, hopeful of the days that I could run free from the tangled branches enclosing my mind. They wrapped me in with faces whose eyes always slipped across mine. And then they found my legs and let me slip, numb again from yesterday's wound. I would run, all limitations abandoned, chasing the friends I wasn't close to, always branches apart from the world I was already consumed by. But I was happy. And then I would fall. It happened again and again until I saw the danger in falling, now white stretching marks across the bottom of my knees. I saw the danger in everything.
Wednesday, 7th July 2021
As the thunder roars in such tumultuous pain, the sun singes the rim of every cloud until the whole sky is cloaked in a brightened sadness, a softening grey. And the world will sit in shallow wine while the teardrops of the encroaching night play in ripples across the sun's sleeping face, waiting for the moon blank and ghostly behind the starless sky. It is new tonight but hidden from sight, it bows in heavenly patience.
Midsummer
I feel laden with unsaid dreams
spilling over my hair, my feet
walking through a daylit night
full of sparkling stars and troubled sleep
There are roses in your cheeks
and violets in your eyes --
all devotion to the setting skies
This deafening cacophony
creates a solitary peace
encompassed in small rooms
rippling a quiet release
Hold me over a rainbow
Hold me over the tearful seas
Hear the blackbird calling
Calling through the breeze
You hurt me with your fragile words;
lonely is the new day's speech
and the quiet beholds a solemn time
filled with empty promises, I hear you speak
of nothing more than darkness folding
consuming all to sit and see
a new day filled with quietly spoken
words now absent
of your cruel mind and damning speech
I think often how we overuse words. And how because of that, words that had potency and weight, sometimes now feel trite or even almost empty, half spoken without conviction. "Beautiful" it's almost as trite and vague as it comes now, it's lost it's meaning. There is no singular word that I can give to you to describe her radiance adequately. There is no word to define the way my heart rushed when her skin touched mine. I thought my heart would never be still again. It may have settled but my feelings sure haven't. It's still racing trying to find some sort of definition. It is like a gnat trying to quantify and calculate the breadth width and height of a mountain or some sort of decimal trying to comprehend all of creation.
I'm scared to form friendships because I know I'm going to give it my all. I'll be loyal every single time. I'll stay up with them until 3AM if they just need to talk. I'll never abandon them. I'll comfort them and give them letters. I'll do everything. But for me? They'll be interested for a little bit. Then they'll drift away and abandon me. They won't care. They won't even think of me. This is why I don't make friendships; because I'll get hurt all over again and I need to protect myself.
- Dreaming of Wolves//Memoir
There's so many things I'd like to tell you. Maybe how I thought that this could finally be my 'good day'. Or how when you said that you missed me, my heart skipped a beat, because no one ever misses me. You're the first person who listened. Who understood. I loved you so much. I finally thought I could trust you. But now I'm sitting here bleeding from my chest. You left the door open when you took my heart. You never came back. I thought I could trust you, but I'm not sure anymore.
- Dreaming of Wolves//Poems
“it's happening again.
my eyes are searching the room for you, without even meaning to.
the twinge in my heart when a day passes and i didn't get to hear your voice.
i feel it creeping up my neck, when our eyes lock and neither of us dares to look away.
the ache i get at the end of the day when i regret not having the guts to talk to you.
it's happening again,
but how will it end this time?”
A.M. {it's just a crush, it's just a crush, it's just a crush}
“I have fallen in love too fast for this to be anything but fate.”
A.M. {as always}
“Oh, but you don’t know. You don’t know what your ocean eyes and innocent smile could do to a girl like me; A girl who overthinks every little thing.”
A.M. {hope}