ź

I write in the shade where tenderness meets myth.

[lilac-and-lore]

Is it Love?

Would you call it love,

if I have no reason for falling first?

Constantly fleeting glances—oh, have I been cursed?

Is it, in fact, love, or just a form of lust?

Would you call it love

if my heart has changed its pace?

Eyes complain if I go a day without seeing his face.

Oh, to have myself surrender to such radiant grace.

Would you call it love

if his smile is all it takes to make my day?

A sigh escapes my lips as he washes my pain away.

With just his gleaming glow, no words left to say.

I guess it is love,

’cause he hasn’t left my mind since day one.

He’s the reason my world is brighter than the sun.

A single smile has left me catching feelings, faster than I could ever outrun.

I guess it is love,

when the anxious butterflies settle down

and are replaced by serene flowers blossoming on my crown.

The power his eyes hold, I might just sink and drown.

I guess it is love,

as I keep looking back, capturing every curve,

engraving it in my heart, you might call me absurd.

As we bid a final goodbye, one last touch to preserve.

[lilac-and-lore]

Constellations Were Never Meant to be Touched

Some distances are measured in silence,

A threnody weaving itself through the chambers of my soul.

Alas, constellations were never meant to be touched,

For destruction forever orbits that divine cathedral.

Yet my porcelain fingers ache for the warmth of your ember,

For salvation was never the pilgrim destined to find me.

I linger in the aphelion of my yearning,

Begging the heavens for one final dance with the flame.

The night mistook my hands for prayer,

Anchoring me beneath a deafening hush.

Gravity may create distance in space,

But time is how I defy its laws.

If a touch would reduce me to ruin,

Then I shall content myself with watching your flickering eyes illuminate the void until my own expire.

For the nights ahead shall know no sleep,

Yet each shall be more divine than the last.

[lilac-and-lore]

UNBOUND

Like all others, I was born with wings.

Wings that were ready to soar through heights.

Wings so white, innocence trails in soft swirls.

Like all others, I was born with wings.

They convinced me mine were pink, if they were blue perhaps they wouldn’t be tied by strings.

So I painted them blue, layer after layer until no pink dares peek through.

But it wasn’t enough for the strings to come loose, at the end of the day I was still pink.

Like all others, I was born with wings.

They bound them tight, but I learnt to fight.

With every tear that fell, every battle, every wound,

The feathers stained red.

But I didn’t stop, I couldn’t stop.

It was me against the burning strings.

Like all others, I was born with wings.

I lunged at every milestone worth claiming, defying gravity’s chains

And by the time I broke free, I was no longer pink.

I was RED.

Red with the cost, red with the heat,

red with the fire that survives the cage.

Because at the end of the day, I was born pink,

I had to bleed to become myself.

[lilac-and-lore]

Sacred

There is something so divine about you,

That even the scent of your mark on me

Could melt the devil into repentance.

[lilac-and-lore]

Wallflower

I never have much to say,

nor am I the best company when doubt lingers.

Solitude is peace,

but only when it is chosen.

Otherwise, it becomes thorns,

pricking at every small joy.

The thorns found me anyway.

They pushed me into a corner,

where vines curl tighter with time, quiet, vengeful.

It fills my mouth with silence

while the world around me

sings its heart out, loud and unnerving.

[lilac-and-lore]

The kind of pretty

I know the night's not ours anymore...

but there's one thing I didn't say.

You told me I was pretty—

but not in a passing way.

But you...

you're the kind of pretty that makes reality fade away.

[singing-bowl]

at this time of year you might be tempted to create new rules for yourself, if you do, make sure that they are designed to serve you, not to punish yourself for imperfection.

[immortalbelovedsblog]

I’m neither a texting person, nor a calling person, nor even a face-to-face person anymore. I feel like I’ve forgotten how to talk. I don’t respond well to compliments and over time I’ve lost interest in conversations altogether. People often assume I’m just not in the mood to chat but the truth is I’ve lost the desire to communicate at all. I used to prefer texting over calling. Now I write long messages only to delete them and reply with ‘yeah,’ ‘okay,’ or ‘thanks.’ I’ve confined myself to small talk. I struggle to start conversations and to keep them going. I think low self-esteem is what’s making it harder and I’m afraid of losing my voice completely.

[lilac-and-lore]

FIRST SNOW

Standing in the cold, lonely streets,

palms frozen, taking shelter in my cozy fur,

cheeks stiff and lips parched.

City lights glow softly,

carrying my quiet hope through a veiled city.

And up ahead, soothing that hope —

stands you.

Smiling bright, cheeks flushed a gentle red

as you walk up to me.

Not a word exchanged,

yet not a single glance left unspoken.

I watch as tiny particles of ice flutter down,

settling softly on your nose and eyelashes.

Forgive me for not noticing

the beauty falling from the skies.

How could I?

When heaven has taken form right in front of my eyes.

[lilac-and-lore]

Teen At Best

Let me raise my glass,

To the one whose flaming eyes set darkness alight,

To the one whose love runs deeper than the bluest depths of navy,

To the one whose feet never surrendered in a fight,

To the one who healed a heart once heavy,

To the one who cried rivers at the fall of night,

and still rose smiling in victory.

To you, who lived every moment to see me stand tall—

Cheers to the teen at heart,

Cheers to the teen at best.

[lilac-and-lore]

Metallic Bands

Dreamy nights, gazing over city lights.

Delicate hands, strumming through tight metallic bands,

letting the rhythm flow,

letting the heart search for its inner glow.

The strings sing their song, a hymn of love.

The kind of love you needn’t wait for long.

Serene and tranquil,

the music bleeds out of its soul, an intense chill

lingering on my fingertips,

the vibration of silver strings

lasting an entire eclipse.

[lilac-and-lore]

INFINITE ROMANTIC

My chambers were shrouded in gray,

A scorched dome devoid of luster.

I held my guard up with pride,

As high as I could muster.

But all it took was his smirk of delight,

And down crashed my walls, in all its might.

My once steady and calm demeanour

Has now become a nervous rodeo, with rhythmic beats of splendor.

His crooked smile and brazen black eyes,

Toussled curls, a phantom in disguise.

A glimpse I’ll take, a subtle glance,

Bold yet veiled, I seize the chance.

A nuance in cadence of this infinite romance.

[lilac-and-lore]

Dusk

There's so much beauty in endings just as in beginnings.

That's why I've always loved those dreamy midnights , rather than the cheerful daylight.

Isn't it picturesque as the sun goes down with its orange glow,

One last ray of sunshine, painting the sky with hope.

Slowly yet viciously, getting taken over by the dark void.

But it's not fear you hear from the sky but a sigh of relief,

As it pours down its vulnerabilities, when no one sees.

There's an unexpected stinging comfort in the passionate kiss of melancholy,

Rather than the soft embrace of ecstasy.