How Was Your Day..?

he tortures me with his gaze, i am so stupid to fall for him.

-august/fictionflaws

poetry, painting and pain.

sun went away

to rest in paradise

stars in constellation

and moon held the sky

i painted them

in black and white

held them within me

away from human sight

-august

when i turn off the lights

I'll not run but stand there

so the ghosts can take me

and wipe away my tear

oh how i dare to be that

i should be scared instead

but that's not me

and i will rather choose be dead

when the ghost comes near

i will ask it something

are you real.?

or are you too pretending.?

"i am too heartless", I'll say

but with skin and bones

and you're void darkness

like everyone knows

yet i could feel you shivering

just as frightened as me

you and i are no different

we are tied, even when we're free

~august/fictionflaws

i never adored any gold more than the fall, this moment of year.

it says something. it speaks warmth to me and abandons me in frozen land.

but still again after all, i will be waiting for it.

just as it names itself fall, i remember myself. i recall the time when i fell like those fallen leaves and noone stood to pick me up. instead i have been stamped over by all those shoes and dirty feet untill snow falls as well just to cover me and lessen my pain. sky feels so miserable and cold that it cries for me, to save me.and i couldn't be more thankful to anyone and anything.

none of those golden makes me delightful more than the sunset beside yellow leaves as if it cries calling night.

-Autumn

-anonymouslie_

Bitter expectation

I kept my door open

Hoping you’ll come by

Hoping you’ll notice how my eyes rained

Hoping that you’ll ask what happened

Hoping you won’t buy my lie

I kept my door open

With a burning believe inside

That you’ll stop by my side

Thinking you’ll comfort me while I mewl.

I kept my door open

Trying to comprehend if I was right?

Lingering till midnight

Stacking up coldness from January wind

Deceiving myself that it'll be my last try

I kept my door open

Well-known that it’ll all become a waste

Knowing that I should leave the rest

I kept my door open even after knowing how bitter expectation taste.

The Letter to Nobody

Dearest,

It is cold today. After a week-long heat wave, the bay area has cooled down. It even rained the other day - what a treat!

The rain has clarified the skies. I didn’t know the blue of the Californian skies could be any bluer. But they could. They have: And they remind me of home.

I am inundated with assignments. I read most of the afternoons. I don’t remember my eyelids being tired this way. This tiredness is new to me, as are the golden sycamore leaves, the souvenirs of autumn. My first fall in the US, tired from reading stories all day long.

Fall.

Such a terse, poetic name for a weather.

You were startled by my admiration when I first admitted it to you. I suspect it struck you as incorrect. In a way, you were right.

Why should the spring buds admire the fall? Why should they indulge in the promise of death, decay, falling?

Fall. 

It is relaxing just to even pronounce it out loud. My muscles groan. In the distant skies, the clouds have thinned out into round patches that look like doily. I smile. I always wanted to learn crocheting. I know I never will. But I will look at doilies and I will look at doily-looking clouds and tell myself I wanted to learn crocheting. Why do I do this? Who am I lying? And I am not even lying. I would like to learn crocheting but only if life was a little longer than it is. I shift my gaze back to my screen. Words. I love them. 

Rustle. Why do I have to be distracted like this?

A swarm of desiccated sycamore leaves. It is cute that they always travel in a band. My windowsill is their nestling place. The specters of autumn. 

Is this a goodbye? Are you here to say goodbye? 

I say goodbye out loud. The leaves receive my idiocy with solemn indifference. 

Indifference. You pretended but you couldn’t be half as indifferent as these leaves. 

I never understood why you, with all your appetite for the unknown, should be threatened by the admiration. But admiration is threatening. In old french, it means to regard the person in awe.

It is threatening to be regarded with awe. What if we couldn’t live up to it? What if our existence contaminates someone’s pool of awe? Will we be able to live with so much guilt?

I understand you better now. Now that you are gone.

You indeed disappointed me. You faltered when it mattered the most. You betrayed my trust more than once.

Strangely enough, life is setting up a reverse drama for me. I have a far younger boy approach me with the admiration I had for you. And I feel burdened. I try to tell him that this is stupid. And it is. I know it is, because I have been stupid. But he persists. He brings me tea and chocolates.

I am waiting to break his heart. But that is the only way forward. Doesn’t mean I didn’t care for him. I want him to fly higher.

You are dead. Every day, life teaches me how/why to forgive you. I forgive you. One carelessness a day. You were also petty. Just like me. None of us can rise higher than our fears. At least, not all at once.

I forgave you this today - your suspicion of me. 

- bhushita

I plucked you like a rose

You stab me with a thorn

I tolerated the pain

But you wether like a rose

Our Lost Love.

And I wonder, if, maybe it was another time, another world, we could be together. The love that was destroyed could bloom like those beautiful flowers of spring. I don't know why we met when we weren't destined to be together. You were like sun after the storms that slowly faded in the night. The water in desert that eventually dried. The friend that I was searching in others, I found in you. But we are gone now. We are lost inbetween the patches of the wound which was supposed to heal the scar. And still I will find you again. And again our stories will be written and we'll stand in the rain together looking at each other's eye. And finally at another time and another world we will have eachother. Our lost love will be there forever.

-august.

🦇 Starry Night x Halloween by Aja Trier 🦇