Thurible

.

Is it love that exists within the in-between,

the silent air moments of conversation

that carry nothing but thoughts

too vulnerable to speak aloud

.

How do we measure the distance between us

.

Do we take account by weight, this heaviness

that accumulates the stale air of our home

Or measure the span of thought travelling

lonely pathways that never reach our lips

.

We bow heads instead, repenting each sin

.

Mourn innocence lost as wounds smoulder

within the thurible of our days

A meager penance offered to the heavens

raised as prayer silently whispered

.

Sabrina Escorcio

September 2018

She was tired of seeing old faces with the same weary smiles,

The same dim rooms with clatter of noises,

Every morning brought her a new colour in the same old black hue,

Chandeliers and parties with people hiding their faces were a part of her life,

Car rides that led to nowhere,

Wolves that howled at night, chased her but never really found her,

She defeated her demons, her sword was dripping with blood,

She opened chambers with spells and maps that could take her anywhere,

A fairytale of darkness and creatures that you’d only see in your dreams,

She saw it all,

Your nightmares were her reality,

She broke glasses and she walked over fire that looked like petals of roses,

She herself was the definition of chaos,

A walking shadow, she was the person you’d see standing on the streets,

When it’s raining and you’ve lost your way,

You’d stop by her,

And she’d tell you the directions,

But she’s lost herself,

She’s like those characters you read in your novels,

The one who kept dairies but never wrote anything inside,

Because her words were scribbled on the walls of her bedroom,

She’s the kinda girl you’d fall in love with,

She won’t ever let you in completely,

She’d leave you in mystery,

She’d laugh when you ask her about the secrets she keeps,

She’d love you with all her heart,

She’d hold your hand and take you places that’d make you think,

She’d make you question yourself for choosing her,

She’d write you letters with red ink spilled with words you never knew could convey meanings like she made them do,

She’s a book you’d want to keep on reading because every time you think you’re close to finding out the secret,

A new chapter begins altogether,

Her life was a struggle no one knew of,

It was a story like those late night movies at the theatre only few people watch,

It’s one heartbreak,

One story of a girl who learnt everything on her own,

Everything changed but she still remained the same,

Her eyes are full of memories of unsaid good byes and her words carry hurt that she never could give,

They carry the hurt she took,

The way she touches you is the way she was never felt,

The way she’d whisper in your ears,

Would make you want to run away with her,

Her favourite songs never play on the radio but she’d never complain,

She wears the same golden chain she was once gifted by a person who has turned to fading memories,

But she’d never let go,

Her castle has enough arrows and dead soldiers,

And she knows that it’s not worth another war.

-afreen

Take care of your kaleidoscope heart.


For now it swells with the pinks and whites of springtime, the innocence of robin egg blues and dewy greens. You got a letter from a boy you like and it feels like sunshine everyday. Remember the joy of this moment —


for in a few months your kaleidoscope heart swells with the greys and blacks of a monsoon summer, the coldness of ash white winds and pallid yellows. He doesn’t like you anymore and it feels like the end of the world. It is not, but remember the brokenness of this moment.


Your heart - it will swell with the midnight blue of your first kiss on an August evening. It will swell with the joy of finding love across the miles, the sky blues and pinks of a San Francisco morning. It will swell with the fiery red of anger, betrayal strong but eased to pinks once you understand why it was done. Your heart will swell with many colors. But not now, not yet, not when you’re 15, not when you still think that your prom date is your soulmate, no, not yet.


Your heart is set to swell with many colors. Take care of your kaleidoscope heart and discover how each hue enriches your heart’s stories of you.

-

1284. To 15-year-old me

Utopian dream

Good doesn’t require evil,

They’re full of lies

I know a place

With no tomorrow

Where the sun never sets in

No enemies, no wars to fight

The kind of place that you deserve

If you can imagine paradise,

What makes you think you can’t live in it?

Love doesn’t require hate,

I’ll prove it

Step with me into the light,

Take a look at what could be -

No masks, no screams, no broken dreams

A place where we can all be friends

Just take my hand, beloved rival

We’ll soon cease to call each other

Lifelong arch-enemies.

There can be day without night,

Midnight sun we call it

Have you forgotten?

It’s possible to live and die

With your dreams undone

So why the waiting?

Time’s not gold, time’s a lie

The things you have are hollow

All that you own is now.

So you can cry your scars healed

Or you can change the world

If your light was drowned by darkness,

If you’re as sad and gloomy as one can be

Remember, the eyes adjust to see at night

You grew stronger and brighter, enough to win

And if you still have doubts about a higher power

It’s been here all along,

It’s you and me.

~ A. A. Roman 

yesterday, a cold wind blew through the curtains.
i clasped myself as i drifted with your last breath.
-
i kissed a prayer all over your cold skin to ruminate your departure.
no answer came. silence.
-
i promised i would cure your memory of these tears.
these tears drown you and leave me in hopeless despair.
-
bees still buzz over blooming flowers within the cracks of concrete and desolation. birds still flap their wings within the grey clouded sky.
my dear, i want to live without the weight of our shared days losing its colour.
—  loss. may your heaven be a shroud of peace. // @misplacednotes

I loved you once but I don’t know

how to love you twice.

Blue and black,

Remain tattooed

In this heart,

That once loved you

The bruises have not healed

Though it’s been years

Somethings are forever and there is no going back

As much as you wish for it or as much as I try.

e.v.e.

I leave pieces of my heart for you in places we long to share but will never see together. Perhaps when you find them, my scent still lingers and for a moment, no matter how brief, it will feel like we really were together.

-

1285. Same Place, Different Time

Process of learning would always be slow and painful. But it makes arriving at the finish line so worth it. All that time, all the wounds, all those worry and doubt - spent and bought and borrowed - to finally be paid off and left in the dust the moment you step in to receive your winning moment. Immense pride you feel in that one, shining, fleeting second, how you’ve won against all odds, and against yourself.
—  aumirah
Why did you do that,
you sad excuse
for an excuse.
Look, you never learn.
A recipe for a slow burn
burst into a wildfire.
Always living in
the last straw.
But nobody can hear
your whisper of a scream
amidst your wreckage.
—  Wreckage, V.P,
How To Fall

i.

Hanging from the cliff

you grip the razor-sharp edge

separating soul from skin

the line where flesh ends

and spirit begins

past which the state of pain 

transforms into elusive, existential agony

as you grasp at logic 

begging for scraps of reason

dangling desperately 

from the tenuous string of sanity.

ii.

Here at the bottom of the pit

reality becomes irrelevant

entirely displaced

by an overwhelming

inexplicable sensation

without any possibility 

of rationally comprehending

this eternal haunting –

you lose the ability

to think in words

your mind becomes

an isolated world

you are a star exiled

to an invisible 

lawless

terrifying

universe.

Seeds of Dreams

Water these seeds of dreams

so every tomorrow will grow

more beautiful than the other

the effort of nourishment

put forth day by day

with intentions everlasting

seeds will crack open

one day to sprout our dreams

planted and grounded

roots of beautiful tomorrow’s

shall grow to no end

valid, inseparable and true

together me an you, plant theses

Seeds of Dreams

R.A.

Any type of kiss

(Kiss me, just kiss me)

From goodbye as one of us leaves for work

(Greet me with a brush of your lips on mine)

To a simple I love you, goodnight

(Kiss me awake with your morning lips)

Or a passionate, tongue dancing make out session

(Taste my want for you in kisses slow and deep)

Nails dragged along my arm

(Arms wrapped around your neck)

Or down my back

(Fingertips caressing cheeks)

Tongue teasing an earlobe

(Tongue tracing outline of your lips)

Or my neck

(Nibbling on your lower lip)

Arm around my waist while shopping

(Arm around your waist while you cook)

Or my shoulders while dancing

(Or your shoulders while making love)

Holding my hand while driving

(Fingers entwined while watching a movie)

Or walking in the park

(Or walking along grocery aisles)

There is no way you touch me

(I love all the ways you touch me)

That doesn’t leave me wanting more.

(Love me, touch me more.)

-

1286. I can’t get enough of everything about you

Original poem by @galinironshod . Hijacked in parenthesis by @september-stardust .

Joy is a Journey

feelings high slide to feelings low

we’ve just got to try to…

I’ve got to learn to let them go

low-self-esteem to crippling shame

there’s got to be a better way

to know joy… feel joy… keep joy…

to own what I can’t even seem to rent today

I want to experience joy, know it inside

feel joy, befriend joy, keep joy

I know I need to welcome what I’ve denied

myself; didn’t think I was worth it

haven’t felt I deserved it

never believed I’d earn it

achieving happiness can prove elusive

but living fully requires no excuses

we’ve got to commit

to ourselves, before we can commit to others

take action,

seek both support and new learning

we need to come to know,

come to practice

what we’ve failed to in the past

joy is a road, a path, a journey

into our inner states of being

a reality that takes more than seeing

to achieve it, we must believe it

we must persist, if we’re to be it

if we want to know…

to own, to hold… joy

@followcb | Copyright September 22, 2018

“With you,

the sun would shine again,

your eyes will flower

with yellow lights;

I am waking up with

your brillance:

my love exudes from where

your shadows roam,

but on this happenstance,

I am the moth

and you are the flame.”

-Chuck Akot, “I am the moth and you are the flame.”

Feel contented in your own body,

Make it your home,

And plant seeds of love,

In the soil of your soul,

But enclose the plant:

Secure it,

So that it is safe from the lovers,

who want to play,

And only the lovers,

That are willing to stay,

Are allowed to water it.

~M.W.

And I will collect
the drips of blood
that fall out of your wounds,
in my hands,
hold them,
until you are strong enough
to drink them back,
and I will watch
you lick my fingers,
as you gain back the parts of you
that you had lost,
becoming whole again.
—  V.I.P.P.

i fall asleep easily now, knowing that i am cherished and loved beyond what i believed possible. i no longer share a bed with grief. or drown in a mire of overthinking while the rest of the world sleeps. i have found unconditional adoration. the kind of devotion that i deserve. and experiencing love the way that i had imagined it in my dreams has enriched everything.