The Bridge

May or may not add some color for accents and um readability

Renaissance bathed in viscera

Libido of soma

Beauty of corps

The desire for flesh on flesh

Skinless and bare as sin "

13.28

i read something about humans being building a home in each other and ever since that i haven't been the same. on saturday mornings as i sip on my tea i think about that girl i made friends with in an amusement park and how we spent the day dailling together but didn't bother to say a goodbye- is she still waiting?

on sunday evenings i think about the girl who lived across the street from me and how she used to wave at me everyday but one day even without noticing i realized she stopped showing up at her window- what happened to her? does she still remember me? where'd she go?

before i know it's monday and i do my best at holding on but the tears spill as i scroll through the pictures of my cat who made me feel that i belonged somewhere but now even she's gone after i angrily shut the door on her so that she knows that getting aggressive over her kittens won't do- i planned on getting her back from the garden she loved playing in with her little ones, little did i know that my words did hurt her and it's been two years ever since i saw her last. maybe, just maybe if i had realised sooner that i'd done the same thing as her and gotten her home from her garden instead of waiting for her to come, she wouldve been here with me but it's the void that refuses to fill the gap with something else and it's become the only regret i'll never recover from. instead i associate her with moon and hope that everytime i look at the moon- maybe she's looking at it too even though i know she will never forgive me for what i did even after i apologise. will she ever come back home to me?

on tuesdays i'm still trying to be alright after what mondays do to me. wednesday evenings when i walk back home i think about the old man who helped me rescue that same cat and how he continued to make sure she was doing alright everytime he saw me but maybe a year or two has passed and i haven't heard from him, what will i say the next time he sees me? will he think that the cat was in the wrong hands even though i did my best for three years that i had with her?

on thursdays i can't help but think about my former bestfriend when her favourite artist shows up on television, even today we do talk, i love you's are exchanged but it just feels that the other one is trying the pacify the heart of the person who said that by repeating it monotonously or typing out the words hurriedly.

fridays are blurred and seem long and painful to live but have prettier sunsets and as i look at a certain colour in sky and immediately associate with my bestfriends only to be questioned back by myself that what will i do if they ever happen to leave me? would they? because all people leave one or the other day don't they? regardless of the what circumstances are, every one leaves according to their convenience. and then birthdays become inevitable days to mourn about something that never really died but couldn't make it out alive either, stories they told become tales we use to navigate through our lives and suddenly we're referring past tense for someone who still lives- in our heads or the world; it's the same thing.

what do we do of the memories that are etched on our brains? those that refuse to get lost among other ones?

someone said they become a tragic memory that used to be beautiful that we almost believed was ours to cherish but they do become another star in your sky.

but noone ever told me about what to do about the homes that i abandoned or about the homes that abandoned me or about the homes that changed their address without telling me and now i wander in the memory lanes aimlessly hoping to find them one day. what am i supposed to tell someone when they ask me where i live? in that garden along with my cat and her kittens?