Constellation Blues

Tag: letters from the wasteland (page 1 of 2)

Photobooth and lies

She kept calling your name as you pretended not to hear.
Your hands filled with a love you lied about.
A love fading into the dark glow.

Finally, no choice but to look back.
Wait for me, you said.
Your lies made me smile with the decision
To make you miss me instead.

The lies are just a game
I’ve played before.

Into the darkness I lept, all the movement
Motion and disappointment.

Your silhouette in the photobooth
Left and right, you searched
I could see you from afar,
just a drunken fool.

And I smiled as you finally located
Me.
Coming back.

Stolen Starlight

At the last possible moment you stole the starlight away
My time was up and the world was leaving
I could only gasp in amazement
at the turn of events.

I had no control.
Only acceptance as it all faded to black.

The glamorous life

Out of the silence, the return of Glamour’s son. ¬†Broken hearted, and set in a panic, the calm depths of the forever black lake led him back. ¬†Echo and a return to silence.

Incomplete Dimensions

Out of the droplets falling,

The one reflecting the stars

Came back into my hand;

Only, I no longer felt thirst.

Shadows under the full moon

On paths well-known and traveled

I could only listen to the songs

That broke your heart again.

The chill of sitting next to you
Showing you that reflection

I could hear your voice again
florescent lights shining down

It’s strange to think that happened

This memory that came back
And the boy I once knew.

We can be walking together in the dark, seeking the light switch.

At times, you’ll be lost in your words, going on about the topic: yet, when you notice I am there again, you’ll change your statement with a ‘but’, as if my existence made your words wrong.

Thinking outloud, but those thoughts changing with an audience.

Little noises, hidden in the corner
A mental image of a nonexistent person
Wishing to inhabit your physical beauty

Why yearn for the fake aesthetic
The personality destroys the image
Better to stay quiet

Allowing time to pass, the chessboard unmoving
Little noises, turning into biases
Questioned then ignored by the unmoved masses.

An endless mental vomit of ideas
hack attempting to undercharge
for another’s thoughts.

Elixir of fortune,
looking back at the
tortures of infinite wait.

A desire to fly
along the winds into the
vast lands of mystery.

Meaninglessness

Doing things on my own is kinda worrisome, at times I want to ask others for their insight.
After further consideration, I realize the problem and I can’t trust them anyway.

Being alone, I often recalled fragmented scenes from my life.
The same lonesomeness during those shattered pieces.
Like the meaninglessness of the far-off stars.

Then a need to reassure myself the past won’t repeat.

The memories continue to flow through my mind:
A siren’s call.

Chasing towards an appointment, towards an empty arena, towards echoing hallways where you’ve never been.

A memory cuts through the faded sunlight, everything stands still.

A smiling face, preferring to not interrupt like the wind.

Affirmation and a chance to return to an empty future, echoing notes of different mistakes.

Can’t take back words i never say.

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