Scarlet

A self-editing mechanism, mutually shredding a guitar

The blues of it, the itch, the ache in running sandpaper through infant skin

The different ways I come back to you, the same way you receive me

Too many humans, their vagueness a stream you drink from, time and again

The embezzler in you they think is rogue; you qualify as honest

What is dishonesty but honesty to few?

What is honesty but diplomacy to the masses?

I changed the day you looked at me odd when I picked the cherry with the longest stem

You thought it was a no-brainer I did so for the knot, just a tease, but I didn’t

At the time, the only thing with a knot was my tongue, yet, I wasn’t tongue-tied

Let me walk you through the irony of it…see…the deeper the roots of the stem, the kinder the juice to spill when you pull it out

‘cherries belong to the rose family’

The big five

The most economic, yet the deadliest

If you can’t kill the culprit, at least get your hands on his partner in crime

The brighter scarlet, the sour in tasteless sweet

An old encyclopedia you just dusted off, and put back on the shelf

After all, wasn’t there a dead rose in it? Ah, but its fragrance remains…

 

Upside down

Surrounded by all fours
To the mystery of howling wolves
See, I have a thing
For beings that aren’t afraid to mourn
Over mourning days
That mourn for a moon spread like sand by a million stars
What a cycle of
Beasts letting it all out
To forget why they scream
And only live by
All that’s kept within

So much beauty
Covered with filth
So much filth
Dusted, cleaned, polished!
What would it be like
To walk on clouds
And stare at our homes and people
As if they were street lights
Am I the only one that will cringe
At the thought of
Rain pouring from their eyes
And the rays of light to only(not)dim by subtle joy
What if our own bricks fall on our heads,
will we be reminded of our works?
What if the tallest buildings
Poke at the fog we walk through?
And pierce throats,
slitting animals in half
And us, in three quarters

Gardens that we reaped will regretfully
smile back, thankful, confused
And us, right back.
Only then, will the well full of wishes
Finally grant us the wishes we didn’t ask for
Worth going mad for

Have you ever been still, near a storm?
It licks the fake off, of every street
Bulldozing all the creeps
So it’s only you,
with the chaos that’s meant to be
Fastened to your waist
By anacondas that call themselves snakes
For their tongue was one
But spoke in lisps
It had two shades to it

Succumbing, diving deep
Like leech
And staying delusional
With one eye dreaming
The other closed
One ear listening
With the other in between ‘amor’

But I don’t know, who am I to talk. All I do is lean on walls, turn my head and look at the world upside down. What was I saying again? I need to type this down.