His body a sternest shade of silver, her body a brightest shade of marigold.
His eyes sharper than a spear, her gaze softer than the afternoon breeze.
He kept it all, she gave it all.
This strange energy cycle made
her body a sternest shade of silver, his body a brightest shade of marigold,
her eyes sharper than a spear, his gaze softer than the morning breeze.
She has none to give, he has everything to give.
I do not deny that i am not one whose speech flows from the heart. Thoughts from the heart are filtered through the sieves of my mind before trickling out of my mouth. So even I am not sure of my true feelings because my feelings are hidden behind the screen of logic from me myself. Surely, I must have some elements of a girl? I yearn for the emotional lore of the Girl in the cold of the night, when I can love freely and foolishly (in my books at least) and for once, to speak from my heart and not the mind. But who am I kidding? I abhor being foolish, I endorse utility of the mind, I can never ever bring myself to be a Girl. This accrues to my hardening of my shell and jaded as I am, trust has become even more of a precious resource now which I am allocating far too little to the people around me. I cannot trust enough to be foolish. Insoasmuch, i am learning to let people in, and surprisingly, I enjoy it. (As I’m typing this, the tableau of the extremely cliched angel/demon on my shoulders is making me giggle to myself because in all pessimism, i do indulge in silly thoughts like these.) Maybe, the wisdom of a fool will set you free.
i do recognise my frailties but either i’m godlike in the art of denial or I am finally learning to stand on my own for the first time in a long while. I say the latter with much apprehension as it appears (even to me) to second the first. There is ambiguity in everything i am certain of. Maybe i am not as independent as i thought, i do need people walking in the same direction as me. Such is the vicissitudes of life (i quote chris hehe), so bye i am off for a smoke xoxo
