The smile she wears
is of distant memories,
of tumbling futures
which, when cant keep pace
with her disenchanting thoughts
like water in a cauldron,
collapse into a fragile present.
She flips the hair, and bursts with
dialogue, and over coffee-steam
and forgotten dreams
carefully and playfully traces her path.
And yet, like a robin in spring
that first announces joy only to disappear
into the vastness and barren that is summer
changes colour of her eye as you talk.
Into the words that are poured
into her core of pure, magic resonanceas
if untainted and imploring,
you realise, she's already moved onto
more fragile presents and tumbling futures.
a friend wrote this for me. i cant tell you how i feel. i myself dont know. it seems like i cant understand what she's saying and yet it seems as if i know exactly what she means. in ways.
i dont know. was just telling saumia how we dont really need a presence of the opposite sex to make us feel better, but we dont mind it exactly do we:) now im really looking forward to it. but im also SICK. so sick and tired of the bloody mind games. i'd really appreciate somenoe straightforward now. n not now NOW. but yes, whenever. urgh i sound like some horny little creep. i dont want a boyfriend.. i dont want a relationship. i want some male attention please. can anyone hear this?
urghh. bleh. poof. poop.