A Strange Thing

There is something strange
About the young one
This young seedling
Lopsided grin
Fringe
Hooded eyes
Masking a sea of discontent
An Opium of Longing
Something odd about
The veins like
tentacles
This Octopus
needing to be loved
Yet so desolate
an Island
A separate being
There is something
strange about the way
Every action
is a question mark
As though she would
Quiz her own
reflection
And her shadow
would trudge off
in Confusion
It is puzzling
To be lost
In a skin
That belongs
To you

oblivion

I saunter within this creative canvas, a universe of freedom, a sky of so many colours, electric are my brushstrokes as i paint my way into oblivion.

Selves you seek

The self you see is the self i seek to fix, hinging fingers on a tight ledge, walking on a tightrope, high heels on ground zero. Fear tattooed like fear on my skin. I yearn for balance, the triumph of a dimpled smile, access to avenues of change and a road map to infinity. We are oblivious to the selves within, the moon in our hands , a star in our sight.