#daisiesandsemicolons

[daisiesandsemicolons]

Am I the demons, or the angels in my thoughts? My scars or my powers?

What should define me? Am I my strengths, or my weakness? Tell me, who am I?

[daisiesandsemicolons]

Describe love as colours

Love is the yellow of the sunflowers as they dance to the silent melodies of the wind and the pink of the horizon that kisses the ocean right after a sunrise. It is the red that rushes into your cheeks when you listen to your favourite music and the orange of the evening setting sun gracefully snuggling into the clouds. It is the grey of the skies melting down to tears of the heavens and the brown a warm coffee hugging your lips on a cold winter morning. Love can be, at some times, an old black and white Polaroid, and at other times, a lovely colourful rainbow. 

[daisiesandsemicolons]

Describe love as seasons

Love is the warm summer that oozes through your windows into your rooms and wraps you up in a hug. It is the rains that cry with you on your saddest days, and make you feel one with it, while giving you a new life to look forward to. It is the autumn that will teach you that you can be beautiful even if you fall, even if you break, and fill the air with beautiful lovely shades of oranges, browns, yellows, reds, and some memories. It is the winter which gracefully brings down the heaven’s love wrapped up in snowflakes, each a different shape and size, yet each so beautiful, reminding you to love yourself as you are before anyone else. It is the red and yellow and purple and pink and blue and orange flowers o spring blooming in the garden outside, giving you a little reminder of all the beautiful things in this world. Love is warm and cold, dry and damp, monochrome and colourful, all at the same time, and just like the seasons spread across a year, never a feeling that can be fit into words.

[daisiesandsemicolons]

SUNFLOWERS AND SOAP BUBBLES

The other day, I found a sunflower

In my closet,

A fading yellow,

With a touch of some brown

And some memories.

As I looked at it,

I couldn't help but take myself

Back to where it started,

On the grassy fields of

Granny's farmhouse,

Where I sat swollen faced,

Thinking about the boy

I loved the most.

Dirt sticking onto the strands of his brown hair,

Face covered in mud

From rolling on the ground,

His loud unregretting laughter,

He was perfect, my perfect.

As he stood up to his feet,

To get me a sunflower and wipe off my tears,

I knew we had to be best friends forever.

The very next moment I knew,

I was frolicking round the garden,

Blowing into my little pipe of soap bubbles,

Grinning ear to ear.

Tender little bubbles,

With their own worlds within them,

I extended my hand to take one into my little palms.

Gently descending into my hands,

I was too happy to know not to prick them hard,

And so I did.

A bubble burst,

And so does mine,

Everyday.

I watch his translucent silhouette

Fade away to nothingness in front of me,

And across it I see

Our memories fall apart.

But why does it have to be this way?

He's much more than just a memory,

He's a piece of me,

I wove him out of

My fantasies and my insecurities.

He's more than an imaginary friend for me,

He's a part of my soul,

Which now is a big gaping hole, asking me for answers.

I'll wait for him,

And I'll keep a sunflower for the day he comes.

Image source: Google images