Tuesday, January 8, 2013
I was never really there, or here
nor present.
nothing holds me, always lost in another land
I haven't seen reality for a long time, how is it doing? it must be having a ball of a time. every one seems to live it.
I don't know who I am either,
a wanderer, a nomad
always yearning to be free, lost in the air, the skies, the clouds, and the spring breeze
that flutters on to the next season
temporal.
but like an age old chant,
that stirs up the memories of our subconscious,
you fixed me in my tracks,
you sang of a safe haven,
and of such a strong notion of home.
come, lose yourself in my arms
yield, and stay.
your song was embellished with trills of promises,
of a what's to come, warm, loving
stretching into forever,
guaranteed by the words of a future.
sitting with me through my insecurities,
weathering through storm after battering storm.
it's my fault really,
when I lash out at the world, in a fine frenzy
you'd just hold me tightly, in your arms
cocooned by your soft,persuasive logic
and it's only when the waves of torment stills, then do I realise that at the end of the day, all my own foolishness has hurt no one but the people closest to me.
when the fog finally lifts, and that little petulant girl finally wipes her unreasonable, tears of indignance from those bleary eyes,
I see the cuts, the gashes streaking crimson, that now adorn you
jokingly, but with underlying conviction you told me, one day it'll all be over. we'll sail through these waters into peace and tranquility.
we will?
we won't, dear.
how can we?
when I'm the one stirring up these storms?