fromyellowfacade
Yellow Facade
Seeing you from this view- blurry but beautiful hue
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Untitled 24
Ain't made for anyone;
enclosed with sturdy walls.
There's no door.
There's no key.
There's no dragon
nor a prince-
just a woman
who can set
herself free
but chose to lock
herself in.
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Untitled 23
Hey,
Is it just me?
Am I the only one crazy right here?
Without a doubt, it says.
But I doubt the lies it says.
I once denied the unstable beats.
I once repressed the song it makes.
I was once aloof
but you mess me up
What's with all the this-and-that?
You're making me live in a fiction tale.
Quite hoping it was real,
but I'd rather walk away
and keep my mind at peace.
Why assume it was for me?
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Untitled 22
Does it matter where I am?
Stuck in a jam
lost like a lamb
in the middle of nowhere.
Does it matter what I do?
Run here and there,
cry anywhere,
sayin' "This too shall pass."
Does it matter what I make?
This much pain,
that much gain,
I nor you can't take.
Do I matter to you?
Like those dazzling stars,
your precious scars,
or am I just an overview?
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Untitled 21
Just like a cliche tv show,
it flashes every day.
Time flies indeed,
so do happiness and sadness.
This emptiness is boundless-
a hopeful yet hopeless soul
wanders in an empty hall
filled with nothingness
and nothing more;
pouring air in a wine glass.
I'm the friend you wished you had;
the silence that shouts your thoughts;
the darkness that lights your worth;
the pillow that keeps you awake;
chaos that brings peace of mind.
Said you lost it but you last
fighting a nightmare
that no one else does.
You're alone and yes y’all own
a piece that nobody else has.
You’re right, you’re right.
Yours the rarest plight.
Good night.
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Untitled 20
When it gets blurry,
a ray of light strikes,
brings a little mist.
Doubts go astray,
spurred by the wind-
from seconds to minutes.
Then the fog returns-
not blocking ahead,
not putting a show,
but making its world
evident in the eye.
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Untitled 19
I’m not an art
you paint with blue-
strokes swayed with hue;
nor skies, oceans, and seas
swirling through the iris
as the light bends apart.
I’m not an art
you soak in glue-
teared, mashed with dew;
nor masks, brackets, and props
flashing gold as it drops-
the clamor of a heart.
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Untitled 18
I want you-
not a bot
doing orders,
not a star
looking perfect,
not a merchant
selling love,
not a diver
drowning
in the norms.
I want you-
to be you.
I love you-
when you’re you.
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Untitled 17
One twinkle
Two twinkle
Counting stars
To twelve
Three down
Four up
Chances left
Unsaid
Sixth loss
Two times
Regrets feel
Cliche
One twinkle
Two twinkle
Dusts shrouding
My way
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Untitled 16
It’s a series of hook and eye
every night. You and I
In this dark, cold, spot-
hunting, reaching, grabbing ties
in each other’s grip,
back to the walls of the room.
You, singing with a spotlight
flashing through your face
in that sweet, precious purr.
Yes, I chose this tug of war
that day I stopped-
allured in your littleness; when I
let you pass the doorway,
walking slowly toward me; and I
fed you with love- the warmth,
the caress you ever needed.
Those days are over.
The littleness is gone.
The door is closing as you walk
further and further away from the
doorsteps. My skin is wrinkled and it’s
getting colder here. Now
the string is getting near my room-
five, four, three meters away…
I thought I’ll get you this way,
But I only see the end of the tie
getting closer and closer to me
and there’s no you.
Since when did you stop gripping
the other end?
Since when did I play this game alone?
Since when did you realize
I wasn’t your home?
I thought it was a series
of hook and eye- you and I
reaching each other back
yet I’m just a button
stuck in a hole with this tiny fluff.
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Untitled 15
Chasing…
Shadows in the dusk
Grasping…
Unknowns in the dark
Sleeping…
Frozen mind’s awake
Laughing…
Broken heart at stake.
Why you…
Clinging like a glue?
How I…
Wish to have a clue!
Can’t I…
Find myself again?
Should I…
Get a pen at ten?
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Untitled 14
You once made me smile-
embraced my flaws
for a great loss
but I wasn’t enough
so I burned myself out,
while hearing squeaks
of spite and distrust.
You deprived me of a boon,
awoken the sleeping snail,
‘til the flame turned blue.
I kept walking and running
until I conquer the river.
Your lips bade a sweet melody
but my heart’s out of blood
enslaved in dues and doubts
losing its urge to beat.
You swore without a pen
but I was left indebted.
Unwary and obscure,
I scribbled over the sheet
but it won’t happen twice.
I shall find a lush blue sea.
Sorry, let me end it here.
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Untitled 13
It’s okay
If it’s the only response you know
It’s okay
If they assume you’re lonely when alone
It’s okay
If they say, you never grow
It’s okay
If you’re a mediocre
It’s okay
If they see it as cliché TV show
It’s okay
If no one’s wary that you’re drowning
It’s okay
If you’re a yesterday melted like snow
It’s okay
If nobody listens to your songs
It’s okay
If your words faded and stamped as shallow
It’s okay
If you’re not a poem that one can comprehend
You’re superb!
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Untitled 12
It’s over.
I used to push and pull
trying to make a piece
from a ripped cloth but
the needle treaded my skin.
I was running out of thread
but I kept stitching.
It hurts.
It’s throbbing.
It’s unending.
At the end of the knot
I saw droplets of blood.
It’s painful,
but I like it.
It’s better this way
than to see spurting blood
coming out from my heart.
Nothing’s more vivid than red.
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