|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| To the chin in 2019,
Please always remember 2009, when the sky is always blue like it is in an impressionist drawing, when the breeze on your face is fresh from the ocean, when the wind wraps you from behind on the coast, when your pulse beats with that of nature, when you see sparkles in the eyes of every human being, when you smile genuinely, when you talk from the bottom of your heart, when you listen closely to every word spoken by strangers and friends, when you kiss and hug the people you love, when you are brave enough to be yourself, when you open your heart to all these wonderful people you meet on the road, when you experience joy every day, when you live every moment, when you live.
Love from 2009,
c.
| | |
| The more it seems to change, the more it stays the same.
A fire burns
Water comes
You cool me down
When I'm cold inside
You are warm and bright
You know you are so good for me
With your child's eyes
You are more than you seem
You see into space
I see in your face
The places you've been
The things you have learned
They sit with you so beautifully
You know there's no need to hide away
You know I tell the truth
We are just the same
I can feel everything you do
Hear everything you say
Even when you're miles away
Cause I am me, the universe and you
When you're on your own
I'll send you a sign
Just so you know
I am me, the universe and you. | | |
| Floating on the blue, in silence I watched the sun revive.
Sinking in the dusk, among neons I was worn down with the town.
I plucked a leaf, and politely asked if it can cover for me,
to stay with the city as I left.
What cannot be brought with,
What cannot be left behind,
Let the storm engulf those whole.
Let the billow push me, thrust me,
to struggle for the last breath on the very edge of all.
If there are ever two arms,
strong enough to hold but not to clinch,
pull me out of the drift,
and feed me with a drop of tenderness.
In the arc you made with your hands,
that little puddle in your palms,
I twirled and reeled in your iris,
so close to drowning in the warmth,
until the last teardrop, silently, dribbled down your fingers.
| | |
|
