violets

with words like soft,

tender, delicate, whisper,

i’m a tiny wildflower with violet petals 

peeking out from between gravel cracks 

the world too fast and firm for me

when somewhere in the woods

lie a bed of similars i can’t yet seem to reach 

journal entry: 29 august 2014, 8.30am

unlike so many others 

i’ve never wanted summer to last 

for it meant being away from you 

it meant endless nothing days 

but this, this transition to autumn 

is where i like it now 

and i wish for once that time could just stay

these are not lyrics

if you really wanted, i’d tell you all about my world today 

but really, i don’t think i have much to say 

i just hope that you’re doing okay

the finality of a return

tell me about how you stored your life 

separated parts of them into different boxes 

and put them away

shipped them across continents 

so that you could receive parts of what you’d lived 

when you were in a different timezone 


tell me about how the shipping company called you up at work one day 

a few weeks earlier than you’d expected 

to inform you that the boxes were on the way 

the cardboard was soft at the edges from all the handling 

but everything within remained 

more or less as they had been in the middle of all that packing 


tell me about how it all suddenly seemed like a sign of finality 

of the life, of the three and three quarter years you’d lived on a different island 

halfway across the globe 

my watch still ticks in that timezone 

because i’m not sure if i should correct it 

if that would mean the finality of all 

and that i’m finally back  

to never be

light moments, bright moments, fleeting moments

some of us are mountains, sometimes oceans

some others fireworks across the dark canvas of night 


did all i want from you was the closeness?

did all you want from me was the words to soothe?

me repeating don’t worry, you’re okay 

do i really want it all again,

or is it okay that the spark was all we will ever be.

hometown

I came across it in a dream 

Even though I don’t live there anymore 

It was warm and happy and green 


Among the leaves and coffee

Were my new friends 

We’d visit it as a trip 

But like all trips this came to an end 


I was awaken by something I now can’t remember 

And I couldn’t get back into the dream, as I had feared 

Away and away, it went 

Was it me who stepped further or was it time that backwards was sent? 


But my friends were still here 

In the present and supposedly, near 

It’s been a weird year, we all say 

As we kept indoors every passing day 


All these for some near distant future 

Where once again, we didn’t have to fear our own areas 

And planes and buses would run in sun and rain 

When we could all visit my hometown again 

-

i used to be afraid of heat

but one day i held onto the edges of a hot bowl 

and realised that the heat 

didn’t quite reach my nerves anymore 


is this growing bravery or just

regular desensitisation? 


i find traces, plans scribbled on pieces of paper 

for you and me

things i wanted to tell 

and believe that i someday will


but for now, i sit in the garden 

writing in my journal like i haven’t done for weeks

eyes weary from all the nights i stayed awake

for you 


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