#wutispotlight

ii. These feelings are not mine to feel Not mine to hurt nor heal Yet like the rain that fell into my cup, my well Pass through me As the river does To sea So eyesight on starlight That I’ve no right To claim Who could be so brazen What claim could be made I hold no title nor no deed No flower, save a reed To whistle my whittled tune Chipped down and down, what loon-acy You see This emotion that doth stir The rivers, ponds, and birds No birds or bees No stories

NaNoWriMo Vol. 4, 11.22.24 “Can't Help Feeling"

I see through glistening eyes the way you look at her

Like she’s an unleashed monster setting fire to your treasure

I hear through the creaks in my door, what you say to her

The words she is used to, tear my heart asunder

The daggers of hatred shooting from your eyes in this battue

The poisonous spite you spit molding her waxy heart ever since she saw you

She’s not your enemy, yet in her tolerance is an expanse of battleground you find

She’s not your enemy, yet you purge her of the sins that exist in your mind

This is shattering my heart and soul as I ask your anger, “Where are you from?”

One day

but surely,

That did fade

I gave up

And the cheers stopped

but today,

I know that one more day

is how i keep what i have

it's a life's work

and I can't be led astray

Today,

Spilled Inktober, 10.9.23 “Repetitive Bookworming"

How wise these gentle shepherds of souls must be To gnaw such scholars to the core Greater than any Alexandria, if we could usurp the almighty What knowledge to use to wage this holy war Oh, messengers of the departed, dearly pass on Knowledge and spirits as well Look into the light, so that the cycle moves onward, time is gone As our the books, empty bindings on the shelf, like hell Again, the words are missing, where did they go? Father, mother, gone to the flame Knowledge pursuit in desperate flow Consume each line, lettered, fettered with blame Another book, another tome, another hallway wings will roam Flitter, flit, and flick each page Such records read, soon consumed, and laid in loam Oh, the flame should fill all with rage Red and bright, oh, burning light Where gentle souls seek out to chase Pass on, you weary readers, into the night Sleep, oh, dream, of distant lands and lives to soon embrace

they said, 'it's a phase, perhaps', i denied.

only the moon knows how many tears i've dried.

i'd never tried, or realised

that in the name of true love,

you'd always lied.

one day, i held a knife. you said it hurt you.

what about the all the drops of crimson i bled for you?

i etched your lies into pretty little tattoos,

love,

hid each scar, for a short glance from you.

you were no god, but i made you my religion.

you're telling me i shouldn't have loved you the way i did?

you were the sunshine, now you've set our house ablaze,

you said i was your favourite book,

but my character hadn't lived the first page.

so in the end, from these ties of attachment

i set myself free;

it had always been me, not we.

i was forced to take a step back, but you didn't see,

Memories faded with time can be erased

Abandoned dreams, spotless mind, effaced

Flashbacks of your sweet smile and face  

become a souvenir held still in space

Will we forget? Perhaps yes perhaps no..

We can't foretell what only many a moon will show

But I do know one thing that's not misplaced 

A true love is hard to forget and its memory cannot be replaced