iNovens

Letting my soul dyed with the colour of my thoughts // Eighteen years of existence

[its-dyedsoul]

His favorite color is blue.

So, she dyed her sleek long bob with prussian blue hair wax. She covers her honey brown eyes with sea blue contact lens that matches her soft blue smokey eyeshadow. She swiped a blueberry stain on her bow-shaped lips. She wears oasis blue tassel earrings that complements her inclined offshoulder powder blue dress and stand in a three-inches navy blue d'orsay pump.

but,

he chooses the girl who wears a rose-colored flared dress.

ENR

[its-dyedsoul]

in a garden

full of flowery sheets of paper, 

i dug a hole 

using my soiled-ink pen,

i throw down

every seed of words about you,

and i covered them again

with soil composed of metaphors, 

hoping you would let your rain falls

to give life to my seeds. 

ENR

[its-dyedsoul]

23:57

i thought that after i witness the shifting of colors from light to dark, i'll be able to see the constellation of you but what i see is a waxing cresent phase of the moon and it's sad that we both feel incomplete for some unknown reasons

ENR

[its-dyedsoul]

17:51

can't wait to see those

blaze of oranges and pearly pinks

to turn into a black blanket above,

can't wait for those smooth colors

to look rough by the tiny sparkles

scattered apart,

can't wait to see

the constellation of you

and be part of it

before this day ends

ENR

[its-dyedsoul]

in a garden

full of flowery sheets of paper,

i digged a hole

using my soiled-ink pen,

i throw down

every seed of words about you,

and i covered them again

with soil composed of metaphors,

hoping you would let your rain falls

to give life to my seeds.

ENR

[its-dyedsoul]

every rhythmic sound caused by a persistent pain on metals supply oxygen to my dying lungs

ENR

[lilireinhart]

I can’t seem to write perfect words

Or make them flow as they should.

They don’t sound particularly profound.

I can’t paint you pretty pictures. Or blend the colors like other artists do.

My watercolors don’t bleed beautifully.

But I can say I love you. In as many languages as you need me to.

I can be fluent in loving you.

LR

[its-dyedsoul]

The Queen and Her Way Back

She was a queen who incredibly knows how to share stories through her out-of-the-ordinary laughs. Her mind was colored by simplicity that can make everything pure and clean. Her fierce eye-lined eyes sees the possibilities of impossible things that when she walk away, she will find her way back to her kingdom again.

e.n.r

[its-dyedsoul]

il·lu·sion

[i-‘lü-zhən] /noun/ “u” and “i” is in the word illusion

it’s heartrending and irksome to create scenarios with you that will never ever happen. that feeling when i feel my head in the clouds and it made me fell, like collapsing straight to the ground.

it must be my scarred soul, which is unglued from the mind. it always rebels against limitations, because the reality of us is too limited.

and in order to escape the existence of this agonizing truth, i must create a new one, and i can create another one just like i created my last one.

it made myself happy, the way i can only snapped out the limit and give direction to my trance.

but it also causing me stings and throbs by just reminiscing, it messed with my flashbacks, making them feel even more horrendous than the true story.

if i could just switch it off and accept that you and i is just an illusion,

i would.

[its-dyedsoul]

con·trast

[kən-ˈtrast , ˈkän-ˌtrast] /noun/ equality of being unequal

she has an exceptional volume in her soul,

while i mute my words in control,

she planted flowers and assume its bloom

while i water it and wait for its gloom

she let herself sink into the emotions,

while i weave words to give motion,

she knows how to influence others,

while all I can do is to do their favors,

she got her luck all the time,

while i always end up trying again,

we’re two different magnetic poles,

she’s the north while i’m the south,

and we attract each other

but then,

she had you,

i have myself.

[its-dyedsoul]

al·lit·er·a·tion

[ə-ˌli-tə-ˈrā-shən] /noun/ a repetition of you

i open my eyes,

someone’s bathed in the sunbeams

filtered through the fall leaves,

and it’s you,

you are daintily dappled

with many hues of brown,

from the stolen specks in sunlight

to the abyss in the abysmal depths of dusky,

it reveals all the ravishing mysteries

hidden in the deep beds of your eyes,

your smile stretches warmth to winters

like the sunny colour of sunflowers,

i close my eyes,

and it’s still

constantly,

consistently,

continually,

you.

[its-dyedsoul]

I’m a bully and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I don’t do these because I hate them. I don’t feel anything toward them, no insecurities or the other. For me, they are just a tool to vent my irritations and confusions, to excuse my boredom and have some fun with and also to feel like superior. Every time I tease them, I get a surge of power I just can’t get another way.

Who are my victims? Probably those who are small, scrawny, no friends who spend their times alone. With those that are over emotional high strung nature they’re a great prey. Calling them lame or everything that reveals your fragile soul got my entertainment all day just watching them suffer. That’s how I make myself strong, that I’m over someone else’s.

If you would bother to ask if I’m feeling sorry or am my guilt eats me up. No, definitely not. It’s a cliché situation, me strong versus them weak. I love it, every time I end with an devilish smile that annoys their eyes.

[its-dyedsoul]

Her whole life had been a lie. She always get rid of the mirrors. Because she believes that thing just make it worst for herself, she always felt wrong. But she’s like dreaming on a nightmare full of thousand speculums. She runs and runs seemingly without exhaustion but in the end all she can do is to paused and look intensely at her reflection. The more she stared back on the stranger on the mirror the more she felt like she was strangled in her own body. That’s something she couldn’t escape from. She looked again at the trapped image on the mirror, and started to trace her body features from her hair to her toe. Hair strands that are centimeters long are spiked. Her prominent jaw curved gracefully around and the strength of his neck showed in the twining cords of muscle that shaped her entire body; strong arms, bold thighs and calves, a firm chest and abdomen. All behind her expensive polos and trousers. It wasn’t her, too handsome to be beautiful. She was drowning in this unknown body and had desire to tear and reshape everything that screamed masculine, because maybe that way it would finally feel right. He had the urge to run away but this body was something he could never outrun.

[its-dyedsoul]

Art Of You

I grab the knob of the door,

Slowly, twisting it clockwise,

Entering a four-cornered space,

My iris starts to mixed with colours,

Soothing mild temperature kissed my skin,

Due to the light tones of saturated hues,

Lines dressed with different motions

Revealing the truth behind unseen emotions,

Horizons enclosed, shapes are formed,

Curves and edges got some interesting points,

Scaling with grey matter are really dynamic,

Contrast from light and dark, value is seen,

Roughest sometimes make the stone soft

And smoothest makes the cotton weighs

Maybe there’s a lot of works of art here,

But there’s only one that is special

In this room full of art, I’d still stare at you.

[its-dyedsoul]

Self - Apology

I stood in front of the mirror to see you,

My camaraderie for life who’s inside me,

You get wet when I start to sob

The one who will die if I cut myself,

You’re locked with me, forever

There’s no way you could run from me

Seems that you’re sentenced;

To taste my bloody tears,

To feel my negative weights,

To hear my silence screams,

To smell my filthy secrets, and

To see my whole life in tragic

You know everything I’ve done

And I blame you for all my fault,

Isn’t it mean?

I love you, by the way,

I owe myself so many apologies

[its-dyedsoul]

Dear Silence

Oh dear silence,

Why they always think you’re awkward?

Why do people blame you for being you?

What’s the matter of being quiet?

You’re always being mistaken,

There’s nothing wrong with you,

You’re just being who you are,

Why they always want to kill you,

For their nonsense loudness?

They are so pathetic in that way

Just enjoy being calm, my dear,

‘Cause not every space they see,

Has to be filled with words.

[its-dyedsoul]

If They Collide

She’s a light of day, with fluffy clouds,

He’s a light of night, with starry sky,

She’s lively for misty mornings,

He’s up for crazy mid nights,

She give everyone hope, while

He create dreams to people minds,

She warmth the coldest tears, and

He chills the burning sweats

She wakes the growth of plants,

He calms the mad blue ocean

She witness how strong people are

He sees the weak point of everyone

She’s the sun and he’s the moon,

They were totally parallel souls

They are never meant to collide,

But wouldn’t it be enormous

If they impossibly did?