Scorning times
Deviating from my path,
And tedious evening's
I no longer reminisce about the dalliance
And my heart doesn't beat like it used to
When I smell the cherry lipgloss.
Grieve dropped it's spear
Desolation didn't stopped it's cavalry
Rather it's infused with mundane rain.
I realize it's April already,
And I'm sitting here scrawling sentimental poems
About how there was bitterness in the sweetness
but there was never sweetness in the bitterness.
And all the unfinished novel
And all the unfinished chords and strings
And all the things left unsaid
But I still play see saw with derealization.
Nothing has changed,
I move forward facing backwards
Down the memory lane, I falter
during blue summer.
Yet everything has changed.
My futile attempt to amend the unamendable will never change.
After waking up from a kafka nightmare
I no longer scream
Rather I see a sad elephant wandering like a nihilistic mancunian
But tis nothing but a vague reflection.
Out of bound guilt metastasize
Land's back at my feet
The circle repeats
That's my means of catharsis.
And til to this day, I still stare at the bell jar filled with wilted roses
Empty apartment filled with smell of the ashes of cigarettes.
And I keep reiterate that,
Like the smoldering cigarette, it will cease
After that I'll write an epilogue.
