I am sat here in the dead of the night and I amuse myself with my fancy sentence formation. "I am pondering at the oddity of the whole situation."
Since when did my sentences start pushing up pansies? And them questions, they always breed in adundance, so then. Who am I? Who have I become? Who do I wish to be? Answers that are habitual to playing games with me.
So then, I imagine!
I wish to swap this balcony for a mountain top and I am Monet, only I paint pictures with my words. My words that colour many fantasies, which shall be hung in musuems, reminiscent of a world that once was. A mind lies here in the nude. Oblivious eyes only seek glamour. I would glitter for you babe, only if you let me shine.
So then, I imagine!
I dance with the shooting stars, your hand in mine. I laugh a million lotuses onto the friendless lake. I mother Jewelweed, along side poison ivy and oak. I cry diamonds in the running springs. I die a tree where now you stand in the shade of me.
So then, I imagine!
I remember exactly how it was the last time it had happened. Saying that, it hasn't been that long. The wounds are still fresh. The scars still hurt. Maybe the wounds seem fresh because they are. Maybe the scars hurt because nobody never lets them heal. I just wish they catch nobody soon. Just another part of your life that you live in a rewind and you live it ALL over again. . Live? Is that really right? Or is it that you die in that moment? Is that how I would frame the sentence? In that moment, you die a little, each time, every time. Death conquers all. A little bit of happiness that paints the smile of the beautful night sky. But Oh! the sky still sparkles, only it sparkles with the flames of what had once lived once. Faith turns enemy. Belief. What belief? Death dawns upon us and it calls itself indifference this time around.
The same city. The same people. I look out the window but it still shines every bit of that glamour that we associate with it. As if just a few hours ago it wasn't witnessing deaths, as if it hadn't seen the muffled cries, as if it had ignored the anxious waiting faces, as if it failed to notice the havoc that was created, as if . . or maybe it still shines because all of that has become a part of the city. Maybe the city had always anticipated this and was waiting for it to happen so now it's refuses to react. But then how do you react? What do you say? What could I have done? Just WHAT DO WE DO? Or what does anyone do? Fight a nation? Kill to stop killing? Last time around I know I felt so helpless. And this time around I am sat right in the middle of it all and it's all real but today I feel indifferent. And why shouldn't I, I managed to remain 'unexploded'
