dead leaves and colorful hearts.

The colder shadows hide fast
steel fence shell shocked with a sudden grief
footsteps creep as they walk past
the court that’s a victim of, a summer brief.

Shaking, I seek out the ebbing cries
from the mouths that look like arched rocks
weary, to sleep, even to their surprise
their beating hearts no more than a red, frozen block.

The funeral of the season is upon us
dead leaves open their arms to greet
the lovers, wrap them around the colors and hide
the yesterday’s summer from my plain sight

just a constant change, never a goodbye.

seasons.

i bundle myself in the
arms of mist. i have a
faded scarf with
your smell in it.

did you leave the scarf
knowing I’d sniff it
almost endearingly?

that scent
that takes my mind back
to the times
that come back
with a sense of loss.
when I was living
besides the calm waves
and the arms of summer
trapped me in the
scorching lullabies of
your every breath.

somehow the seasons
have lost their way
and forgotten to call out
your name. my raw heart
beats against the fog
and this city cries
for a lost loss.

you will be here. and your
name will keep on
unifying the wait.

Three More Days: a.co/8qmOtnw

this street is half full and it’s too much

my neighborhood sounds:

lots of
people and drifting leaves
workers in heat
with faces like old men
staying in their shadows
as I cross the street.

birds feeding their hatchlings
chirpings, barking and
two hands in solitude
holding, scribbling.

yet another shitty
poem
about how I
feel
sometimes.

Autumn

You’ve got magic in your hands and love in your heart.

Remember walking through the park accompanied with the humid air heated up to its limit. The sensation of the sun burning against the back reminded of the harsh times. The shade was the desire that didn’t take long to fulfill. As you sat down under the comfort of green, it all changed. Suddenly, the green was gone and it was all red and brown and yellow.

The green was gone, and so was the usual nature and the constancy of the beloved star. The mood swings got better and changes became hard to embrace. Still, there was the same wind, which just flew differently now. Same sun, which now shone when he felt like. No more boredom for him.

There were feeling now. Emotions. Here and there. The weather started to play with emotions. Emotions of different kinds. Some were drowning in their dripping drops, while others were trying their best to survive through the storm.

And so can you.

You’ve got magic in your hands and love in your heart.