How real is this fact
That I’m out here, able and intact
Underneath shelters and shelters of
Clothes, blankets and thick walls
Preserved in like a specimen
Segregated and closed off in a pitch black cellular chamber
That’s silent, faraway, and forgotten
Awake, with a buried heart that wonders
Whether there’s a man in a forest
Who could hear
In my childhood, I saw something on TV that stuck with me. This guy entered an empty house full of… birds? They flew around in slow motion. They shined. They were women. It was a house full of beautiful women. They smiled and they greeted each other silently. They walked around in slow motion. He observed them as he walked between them and around then. A woman, with a sweater on, looked at his direction and smiled. He smiled idly and waved back at her. She walked towards him and his happiness lingered with a sigh of relief. She walked past him and greeted her friend. His smiled dropped. It was as if he was completely nonexistent.
I’d say hi to him. I wouldn’t ignore him. I’d comfort him. I’d lead him through this oddly foreign territory. I’d smile next to him. I’d put my head on his shoulder and link my arm to his. We’d sit on the sofa underneath the ray of sunlight penetrating through the window. I’d look at him and he’d look at me, and we’d be lost in each other’s eyes in a vast blue sea of wonder. We’d form a pyramid with our finger tips. I would whisper of love and my dreams and fill the void in his empty heart. It’s true. That’s what I’d do, if I were a magical bird.
It’s the season of rain
I’m unable to say much, and neither can you
As you barely greet me with a speechless, subtle smile.
This silence could be awkward
If we weren’t so keen on getting lost
In each other.
It could be minutes if we let it,
But I believe I just saw the universe flash before my eyes
In the season of rain–
Crashes of waters along the edge of blue heaven’s shoreline
Turbulent storms and typhoons
A tunnel of air for us to breathe in
A rush of blood under my skin
Caught by your probing eyes
And ripped skies
Downpours of the holy waters
And everything that have always mattered
In the season of rain
Rain on earth
Rain on us…
Say a word.
Tonight I turn to the stars, faceless,
Turn into night clouds, grey and transparent, rolling over the skies like a mystic.
Tonight I stand atop the hill, slouched like an empty bowl, alone and crazy
like a silent maniac
While thunderstorms cut across
And the grey seas snatch with temper
Angry at me
While I stand mute
Wordless, thoughtless, and unable to make sense
As the world tumbles over and the end nears
Awaiting an answer
From a faceless, coreless, puff of air.