《Silent Poetry》It's Crazy

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A long handwritten note in my pocket.

Did I say long?

It's beautifully long and painfully blissful.

These words are short, like gasps and sighs

Yet how bigger they mean.

Much like how you look in front of a concave mirror.

Did I say you?

Because it's been you all along and still is.

It's always been you, darling—

I can't believe it ended like this.

Did I say it ended?

It's crazy to question myself,

It's crazy to cry upon blunt people,

It's crazy to sob in front of others—

Isn't the world itself crazy?

No matter what, we're always a little late

and a little insane—oh, blissfully insane.

I'd rather scream out loud in my bathroom,

not in front of you.

Because I couldn't stop thinking about you.

Yet I couldn't let you know it.

You have burnt the flowers,

I'm smearing in their ashes—

It's hell crazy, isn't it?

Girl, I had a shallow hope

with a low wave there.

We had this black and dark shadow there;

We named it 'love' until it shattered

into a million scars and burns.

How beautiful yet sad!

But it's crazy I still think of you,

cry upon my albums of love.

I'd rather laugh at our little sunflower garden

than scream out loud.

I'd rather listen to love songs (I have high hopes, yeah)

than swell my eyes for you.

I have these dreams called 'lies,'

and these lilies called 'love.'

And dreams are always dreamed in the sunlight.

So I'd rather forget them

and smell the lilies—fresh.

We'll both wake up lonely from our beds

and start our days afresh.

You at the park, me at the cafe.

I'd sip my warm tea, listen to music—

but not you again.

But they say 'again' means 'never ever—'

So even if I forget it, I don't care.

Hang on—did I say I don't care?

Because everything till now was what I cared about.

They don't give you a damn about this;

they know how to break and burn things.

So I know I'd stop this now.

I knew it was crazy to care

but sometimes,

you need this thing called 'nothing,'

and walk away, flipping back your hair.

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