I wasn’t there when everything happened, all at once. When you were lured into a pool of bad thoughts, of hatred, of cusses and curses people around you salivate with. I wasn’t there when you first had a curio of blood, when you thought of pinning a blade on your skin, when you started making friends with death. I wasn’t there when you were suck in a vacuum of anger, of hate, of frustration. When you look at yourself in the mirror and cease to believe you are beautiful.
One day, you will call out his name and that will mean all the world to him.
Those familiar letters set beside each other to mark his existence will cease to stagger. Will cease to doubt. Will cease to ask the whys and hows.
Under your breath, his name will have a new meaning, as if the letters finally embraced themselves and understood.
They belonged to you.
Take your time. You need to look again and again
before giving something its name.
Wounds heal and pain disappears if you
just let it dry up on your skin;
it succumbs to nothingness from within
your cells creeping back through the gaps
Scars are but a memory and it cannot sting
Unless you let the bad thoughts gnaw upon you with their teeth.
If you only listen to your heart beating
you’d probably discover more melodies screaming louder
than the howls you make at night.
What an irony for humans
to look for change
when it occurs every split second.
It already existed way before
Adam starts to breathe, far longer than
the lifespan a human can count.
We always wait for seasons
for leaves to wilt
and blossom again.
But the truth is earth
is transformed every passing moment
like the ticking of the clock
The wind blows from every direction
taking different atoms and
leaving some at the same
The world is not what you think it should be. The word “is” cannot be boxed into a human standard. Nothing is absolutely factual. We change like the waves of the sea, every single day; we clash with different pebbles and mix with different atoms. We wash off at different shores every second. Each minute is a journey. What is, is not what soon will be.
Names are given to people so that you would know them, but it is not who they are. Humans are complex creatures made by the hands of a Supreme Artisan. Every part of your flesh is a trail of a massive galaxy. The person sitting beside you is a giant universe, still unraveling from within.