I don’t wanna escape the matrix. I wanna escape the ordinary & into my dreams.
Read books all day, listen to music, take long walks & brush through the shrubs & wild flowers.
I don’t wanna escape the matrix.

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@shadows-sunshine-thunder
I don’t wanna escape the matrix. I wanna escape the ordinary & into my dreams.
Read books all day, listen to music, take long walks & brush through the shrubs & wild flowers.
I don’t wanna escape the matrix.
Hoping for the love we thought we deserve,
Hoping to be at peace when we find home
Hoping to laugh with an open heart, someday
Hoping to run into the open field
This hope is the hardest love we carry everyday and the one which is worth everything
We celebrated friendships everyday.
Terrace dates with that childhood friend, star gazing. I don’t celebrate this day anymore. A huge chunk of my heart was taken away.
And it’s a long way towards healing. When you lose friends you wrap that memory safely, deep into the core parts.
Sometimes out of fear that you might forget their smile, their last conversation with you, the way they held you when you were broken, how they picked those broken pieces, when you laughed like an insane person, when you were just silent, school corridors, the secrets which you can’t tell anyone anymore.
I’m not ready yet to rearrange the pieces, repeat why I always like the last bite, why McDonald’s burgers are our fav or why we look at eachother with that knowing smile when that song plays somewhere.
You hide the precious because too much was taken away. What is left is all you are left with.
I choose slowly. I dont open my heart for friendships. I don’t enjoy a cup of tea with anyone but with very few.
Once upon a time we celebrated us everyday.
What if you looked back
What if I never left
What if the last date was our first
What if October became our permanent
What if we defied the matrix
What if we kept falling in love in every parallel universe
What if we never left
In another life we would become friends, take long walks into the library, talk about the street food of Paris & wonder about fictional characters from the book we loved so much.
In this life we are strangers. Or else you would have fallen in love, with me.
We once met, unaware
We fell in love & never said it
Became strangers like the harsh weather of June.
When we meet again, promise me you'll be my sweet November.
At times I observe myself going through the things mechanically, filling up the void. Trying to replace the grief with mundane.
I gulp the coffee silently, slowly. Feeling the warm liquid travel through my throat & within where I’ve been feeling winter for a long time.
And then I sit with my soul staring right at me.
How long will the winter last?
But the cold grief has started to make me feel at home! Reminder of the irreplaceable joy. I want to relive being her again!
Let go & let it be. She says! The gutted void, the twisting ache. Feel it as long as you want to, whisper sweet nothings, hold on to it for a tiny second & let the tears fall.
It’s been long since you came home. Said the voice within, my soul.
Drinking Coffee should be like making love. Never in a hurry. Slow, resisting yet giving into the deliciousness of losing oneself. Drinking coffee, never in a hurry
We need spaces where we can take off our armor. Sometimes it’s home, sometimes it’s with someone.
Someday we will.
In between the Hi & that goodbye
Someday our paths shall cross
We shall smile towards the sunsets & run towards the waves.
Till then me & you will sparkle like the stars written in the sky.
“Winter afternoons, the breezy sunlight dripping through the curtains.
That half bitten apple with the pink smudge of chapstick.
80s song in the background & our fingers almost touching”
In some multiverse.
Often when I travel in the woods. I hold your hands.
I, talk for hours & laugh about my parallel universe.
And then I open my eyes.
I left you in the woods somewhere.
Are you looking for me, too?
I typically arrive three years too late. I wish I had been able to sit in that white, aromatic kitchen and look you in the face but I was not ready. I was still on my way.
“Wind-Related Ripple in the Wheatfield,” Sixth Finch (Spring 2021)
Written in stars
I know we have met in many lifetimes
Sometimes we were there & then we weren’t
Like the kaleidoscope tunnel of our glittering memories, you were always besides me.
We carry eachother, like limp dead bodies. Our soul quietly hiding behind the safety of childhood memories. The mind keeps hoping, someday the limp bodies will come alive without the soul.
The soul smiled
April (Self)
Where you leave a little piece of your soul, thats home. Our souls remember those places, only consciously we forget!
April (Self)
Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love
RUMI