Latest Posts by februarytales - Page 2

There was love between us.

Until one day there wasn't.

We just woke up and decided that was it.

And just like that, our paths diverged.

Will they ever cross again?

I don't know.

But everywhere I go, I still get reminded of you.

You might have left,

but not before leaving my soul drenched in your being.

Wherever I go, I can only think of you being there too.

We thought it'd be nice to be free again.

But now the freedom seems to have turned to loneliness.

And with every sunrise I miss you a little more.

You've been absent for a while now,

but I've been loving you nonetheless.

And judging by the way my eyes search for your face in every crowd,

I think I am going to love you always.

Whether you like it or not.

Whether I like it not.

And just like that I am yearning for you again.

And that's when I realised, there's still love between us.

From me to you.

And I'll wait for it to come back.

From you to me.

I miss you.

When will you come home?

I know I belong.

Here, between the spaces of your fingers, and the crook of your neck.

On your lips and in your eyes.

I've finally found a home far from any other.

The restlessness in me is slowly being put to sleep by your sweet voice, the soft tunes that fall from your lips heals the broken parts of me from within.

For once, the world feels so much more beautiful than it ever was.

Because there's you and there's me. And because that's all that I need.

For once, it's enough.

For once

Everything in this world has a place.

And more than often I feel like mine is beside you.

You tell me that you're loosing me a little bit each day.

How can I not feel lost, when you deny me of my home?

Where do I plant my heart, when you close the door to yours?

The worst battles of mine were about you, against myself,

being forever torn between wanting to stay and run away.

But as dawn approaches and the sun rises again,

I loose yet another fight.

I hope one day you can finally see me beside you.

One day, you will know that I've always been there.

That I never left, and never will.

A million touches later you're finally here to stay.

Probably with a million more you'll finally fall for me too.

But sadly, we don't have so much time.

Maybe this is our last sunset together.

And when the light of the next moon falls on your pretty face,

I'll close my eyes one last time.

And just like that fade away with nothing but your name on my lips.

On that day when you stumbled away,

I thought I had a Deja Vu.

Like we've been together before.

And like we've said the same goodbyes before.

It was like looking up at the sky and suddenly seeing a star.

One that I've never seen before but felt like I always have.

You leaving me felt like it was always written.

Maybe I have been blind all this time.

The light from you smile belittled every single flaw you had.

So when suddenly you stopped smiling and turned away,

my sky became so dark that it almost felt like I could see the heavens up above.

And in there I saw our tale.

How it was told so that it could end.

Perhaps I've read this story before and cried to it too.

But strangely when it has become the story of my life,

my tears have abandoned me and I am alone.

And the emptiness in me was the way your eyes looked when they landed on me.

I thought you gave me life.

But you did not.

You just darkened the lifeless parts of me even more.

And now I lay in the sand, looking up at the blood moon.

The only red in me is the reflection of the moon in my cold eyes.

Like the millions of stars in the black sky,

now you can never find me when it's bright.

On lightless nights find the darkest portion of the sky.

There you can see me swimming in the abyss of black.

But still trying to stay awake till dawn,

till the light of the sun kills me,

like your smile once did.

I wanted us to become a lovely story.

But we were just flashbacks of a story that was never written.

I woke up to the sound of his heartbeats.

It's a slow rhythm, one that comforts me in this darkness.

With only the light of the fake phosphor stars,

I can see his pale, beautiful face.

He's asleep, but very much alive.

At least for now.

At least for a few hours,

I'll still be able to embrace the warmth that's him.

Until the fuel runs out and we are doomed forever,

I can hug him and listen to his soft breaths.

There's a strange beauty to our current situation.

We're literally lost among the stars.

Held by the other, breathing the same air,

we float amidst the lights in the vast empty darkness,

miles away from the place we once called home.

Because now, nothing else exists to me except him.

Now, all that's real are his arms around my body.

Entwined together, our fingers are the last remnants of life.

And as I drift away into sleep once more,

I press my lips to his shoulder.

A final goodbye,

and then we're gone,

together.

Two hearts lost in space, and in each other,

till the end of time, perhaps.

Singing your praises to the stars have kept me alive for the last few centuries, but now that you've found another to orbit around, will it make a difference if I burn brighter than the sun until my wings have caught fire and I look like the dream you see in your sleep?

I can forget the pain of a few burns if it means keeping you warm.

I don't think I'll fall in love again.

Not after seeing you like this.

The most painful thing that ever happened to me was you.

You exist,

but you're not mine.

And it drives me insane in ways that I never even dared to dream.

I can't unlove you.

And I can't unsee you.

I am stuck knowing that you're out there,

but that you'll never be mine.

The only thing I can do now is sleep,

hoping I'll see you in my dreams.

I'll gladly wait for night to come,

if you'll be mine atleast in the nightmares I have at dawn.

In that unnamed hour of existence,

between the moments of night and day,

maybe I can finally call you mine.

I am glad that I met you.

Or else I would've never met myself.

And I am glad that you left me.

So now I know that being by myself is not so bad.

Sure, I was broken into tiny pieces when you stopped holding hands.

Sure, I did cry myself to sleep whenever I thought of your cold eyes.

I bared my soul and you gripped it a little too tight.

Now I lay broken, and like the blood in my veins, I flow through your cold fingers.

Drip by drip I fall onto the floor, a puddle of dreams and uncherished love.

But somewhere along the way, the red started to turn black.

And somewhere along the way, my tears started to form stars.

The tired sighs that fell from my lips have turned to swirls of white and gold.

The day you broke me, I fell.

I fell a human, and landed a galaxy.

I can still feel the pain of your touches.

But on those days, I burn a little more brighter.

I may have been broken once, but I gathered the pieces and here I stand.

A galaxy amidst the vast, cold emptiness that's you.

A galaxy that you can never touch without burning yourself too.

Words fall from my fingertips,

in hopes that they can catch the dreams in my heart.

Because the expanse that my life is,

will not be enough to keep them alive.

So I let the words flow,

and when I can't go on anymore,

I rest my hand and dream again.

And hope to see you once more there,

where everything is as I always imagined.

Honestly I don't know.

But maybe I love them because they feel like a part of me.

Like I am a puzzle and the pieces are scattered all over this world. As songs and paintings and poetry and plants. And like stars and moon and oceans and trees.

The things I love are the reflections of my soul.

Everything I've ever loved reminds me of who I once was or who I am. I love them because they feel like home. Like they are made of the same things that I was made from.

I love them simply because they make me, me.

Why do you love what you love?

With a tired sigh, you tell me that life has become pointless now and that you've forgotten how it felt to be alive. You tell me you don't know where to find the next chapter of this monotonous life of yours.

I hope you find it in between your favourite book, with pages folded that remind you of how beautiful life sometimes can be.

I hope you find it the way the flowers in your homemade pots bloom late in the afternoon, spreading a faint fragrance that people will soon come to associate you with.

I hope you find it in the sweetness of the tea that you have in the mornings, just before you walk out to meet your best friend.

I hope you find it in the warmth of your blankets at night, when the moon filters in through the open window and falls on the suncatcher beside your table.

I hope you find it in the familiar tunes of your childhood songs that always adds a little bit of yellow to your eyes.

I hope you find it in the swift winds of the early winter mornings, where the steam from your cup fogs up your glasess as you sit across and smile at the little boy who claims he is Peter Pan.

I hope you find your next chapter in all the tiny nooks and corners of the world that hides the most beautiful moments that this life can come up with.

You know where to look. But you've been looking with your heart closed.

in the softness of your voice, telling me that everything is going to be okay.

I belived, in the way your eyes sparkled when I smiled and hugged back.

I believed, that day on our porch, in the love that we shared.

And after so many more such beliefs, here I stand beside your grave. Not knowing what to do or where to go.

I believed you when you said we had an eternity.

We didn't.

You lied.

And I believed.

I believed

There's a pool of sadness in my being.

And sometimes I can hear it sing.

An eerie voice lingering long after it ends.

Accompanied by ghostly visions of the past.

Sometimes it sings at dawn.

And sometimes it sings when I am asleep.

But always, always, it sings only when I am alone.

The constant hum has a blue softness.

Almost like the way my smile looks on my tired days.

But on rare days the hum becomes a vibrant violet.

And feels like the shade of the magic in my eyes.

The songs are about the things I hold in my heart.

Like the stories of my childhood times,

and the places where I left pieces of who I am.

But on nights when I can no longer fall asleep,

the songs take on a familiar tune.

They become the whispers of the restless sea,

and the slow crackling of the campfire on the shore.

It brings back the smell of the waves,

the vibrations of their crashing spreading through my bones.

For a brief moment, I become a child again.

Free to laugh and smile,

and free to sleep without the usual accompaniment of nightmares.

Even though all of this is in my head,

simply the long gone moments from my past,

the ghostly visions are what keeps me sane.

Reminding me that not always will life be so blue.

And that blue is not always so sad.

Knowing this, the pool of sadness sings on and on.

The humming taking on a sweeter tone.

© Moonyloonywitch

I love him,

In the late hours of the night.

When the silence around starts to feel like home,

I love him.

When the dawn approaches in the horizon,

looking so hazy and confused,

I love him.

The slow call of the nightingale breaks my train of thoughts about him.

But still, I continue to love him.

He exists in the abandoned corners of my mind.

And he is there, always smiling when I close my eyes.

The silhouettes made by the moonlit night,

somehow ends up looking like him.

And when I trace my fingers across the shadows formed,

I love him.

For some reason, he seems to be everywhere I look.

And for some reason, I always love him, every single time.

I love him,

like the favourite quote of mine stuck in my head.

I love him,

like the soft melody of the first rain.

I love him,

like he had loved me.

In darkness and in silence.

But never in each other's presence.

All I ever did was either chase someone or run away from another, when the only thing I really wanted was to stay somewhere, to let my roots grow in someone's heart and be their anchor in return.

—Lilllium, from In Place Of The Mirror is a Portrait of You

Everytime you smile it feels like I am bathing in the warmth of the afternoon sun, slowly disintegrating into the golden swirls that pour from your brown eyes. How often have I melted at your fingertips so that you may scoop me up and paint such beautiful sunsets that tell the stories I have kept locked away. I don't know which is more beautiful, to become a breath taking painting or to be the favourite colour of the painter.

What about the ones who don't figure it out? Do they splash around in love till someone comes along and save them? Or do they drown slowly, regretting that they fell in love? I wish we knew how deep the waters were before we decide to dive in. I wish we knew how much it hurts when you try to breathe underwater.

“Some people don’t know how to fall in love, like not knowing how to swim. They panic first when they jump in. Then they figure it out.”

— Sarah Addison Allen

I look up to see his beautiful face.

His eyes are filled with fresh tears.

But there's a smile on his lips.

It seems so true and real.

Yet I know it's far from that.

When his voice cracks as he speaks,

a deep sadness washes over my being.

I can feel it spreading through me.

Touching every secret corner and creek.

I don't know what to do now.

Who do I take care of first, him or me?

I ask myself, as I hold his face with my shaking hands.

His tears are so warm as I wipe them away.

His smile fades and he falls onto me.

While he breaks in my arms quietly,

I let my tears fall finally.

There's only so much strength I have in me.

And I'll use every last bit to piece him back together.

Because I don't know how to be without him.

I don't know why I am, without him.

Without him, I stay a blue question mark.

With him, I'll be a warm full stop.

© Moonyloonywitch

Somedays I crave the touch of another in my soul. I need someone to understand all the chaos inside me but at the same time be intrigued by everything as well. I want to lay down my soul bare, like the musical notes on a white sheet of paper. And I hope someone who appreciates the melody comes along and picks me up. And when they start to hum the tune I have kept hidden in my depths for so long, I'll finally feel like I belong somewhere. Even if that somewhere is just the tip of their tongue or the curve of their lips.

It's the light brown color of my tired sighs and the warm pink of my sleepy snores. The monotonous rambling of my mind brings to life the precious olive green in my soul. The songs I know by heart, that are always at the tip of my lips, shines in a soft earthy brown glow. If there was a colour to describe the way my heart swells everytime I watch the sun go down in the far horizon, it would be a mild beige tinted with a pretty rosy flavour. And when I look at myself in the mirror, when I see the person I have become, I can see the turquoise of my soul smiling softly over my head. I don't know what color my aura is but all that matters is how beautifully I glow when I smile at myself.

Brown for the earth's child that I am, that I always was.

Pink for the pretty parts in me that I've started to fall in love with.

Green for my soul that has slowly started healing from within.

Beige for the ways I am always there for me.

Turquoise for how much alive I am and how beautiful it is to create and grow like I do now.

What is your color palette at this point in your life?

All of this pain feels like it's been an eternity since I have been carrying them in my hands. I am tired now and can't walk anymore. Where do I bury the fragments of my heart?

Grab your dreams in your hands and sprinkle them while you take a walk. Let the others after your time follow the trail and find their own treasure. Because even if you didn't make it, at least they will. And that means you did make it. Planting hope in the depth of a soul is the closest that we humans can come to being gods.

Like phases of the moon, I change the way I see the world. Sometimes it's too much yellow, all bright and beautiful and like the scenes from a ballroom.

And sometimes it's a tired white. With no life left in me to fight. I can feel the sighs of the earth. We share our tears, and I feel safe in her arms.

Every now and then it's green. Fresh and alive, looking like a newly bloomed daffodil. It brings back memories of past summers. A carefree world with a golden undertone.

I also see red sometimes. Like the scream of a banshee and the pain in their eyes. It reminds me of my first heartbreak. Drunk and hurting with heavy eyes, but a heavier heart.

But today all I see is grey. Like the monotonous susurration of the rain, it's killing me slowly, burying me alive. Seeping into me like I am a sponge.

This is why I hate gloomy rainy days.

It feels like I am half dead, but half alive.

I don't know where to belong.

....................................................................................................

The sky keeps pouring outside.

But all that my eyes see are worlds within each drop.

Each one looks so transparent and fragile.

And as they race each other against my window,

I silently cheer for the one that's slow.

Because I know how it feels to be last.

And because I know there's still a chance.

Who knows, maybe when the night becomes alight,

I'll stop seeing the world in blue.

Maybe when the stars come out and paint the sky,

the colours in my head will mix and blend.

And when they do so, I'll wait by the seashore.

Brush in my hand and music on my lips.

Holding my breath, in the fading sunlight.

Susurrations of my heart grows louder,

as I watch the sky being adorned in a soft pink.

© Moonyloonywitch

Do you know how it feels to hold your happiness in your hands and watch it swirl there in a pool of golden light before the night comes and snatches it away from your bleeding hands only to leave you wondering why it suddenly feels like your throat is burning when all you ever did was take a sip from your lover's lips ?

It seems like my heart only understands what you speak, even if you speak with an absence of words.

~

m.l.w

Stars have aligned.

And so have hearts.

Now when the sun sets in the horizon,

up comes the night.

Wild and beautiful,

with a mad sense of time.

As the world sleeps on,

souls meet at last.

Finally they've found eachother.

After eons of being nomads.

Stars have aligned.

And so have worlds.

Now when the moon shines in the sky,

down goes the light.

Sparkling and raging,

with a fierce sense of longing.

As the world stops to spin,

they hold hands at last.

© Moonyloonywitch

07/09/2021

She's fading away.

And all I can do is watch.

The crumbling remains of our memories,

rise up in the air like afternoon dust.

I can smell the love we shared.

But with a hint of tragic helplessness.

She's flowing away.

And all I can do is stare.

Whose fault was it that we became

the very thing we promised we won't.

All we ever wanted was a simple life of laughter.

And yet here we are now.

Me and her.

On the brink of breaking apart.

On the edge of the world.

Soon enough we'll be strangers.

And all that once was will become old tales.

Levitating through the mixed scenes of the past,

I try to find one last sweet thing.

A caress on my cheeks.

A smile on her lips.

Hands held under the stars.

A kiss shared at dawn.

But in the end I find none of those.

She must've taken it all away.

Afterall that's what we said we'd do.

Be all or nothing to each other.

Simply everything or nothing at all.

It seems she has kept her promise.

And now it's my turn.

© Moonyloonywitch

02/09/2021

Dreams are all that I have now.

All that which keeps me alive.

During the day and at night.

The push I need to breathe again.

Simply put I am up in the clouds.

Far from this world yet tied down to it.

Cursed rules and expectations locks my pretty feet.

Hands tied up with stupid facades.

They feed me normality.

My body doesn't like that so I return it.

All that comes from me are small whispers.

Names of cities and my favourite stories.

The bright constellations and beautiful flowers.

Perfect tea and old world libraries.

Scent of the moon and sound of the ocean.

Winter breaths and summer giggles.

Love for you and love for me.

Bleeding Gods and their sad lovers.

Deep poems and sweet music.

I am filled with the things I love.

And everytime you burn my soul,

You make a star glow.

Everytime you silence my voice,

Thunder rumbles over the mountains.

And when you think you've put me to sleep,

Think again before the moon comes out.

I may be filled with all things sweet and soft and nice.

But I've learned to fight over the years.

I'll let my wolves hunt tonight.

And they won't rest until all your dreams become nightmares.

And watch how I hold you in there forever.

A slave to your mind till the end of time.

© Moonyloonywitch

02/09/2021

It doesn't matter if I try or not.

I'll end up in the sky a star.

But what matters is if you'll be there or not.

Beside me, glowing like the sun you are.

All that ever matters is you.

And if I wake up a star and not find you beside me,

know that I'll die over and over again.

A black hole forming at every attempt.

And until I find you I'll keep exploding.

Till I know the warmth on my face is your light.

Maybe that's how galaxies are formed.

Each one an attempt at a love story.

And thus the universe keeps on expanding.

How can it not?

When there are millions of us still searching for love.

© Moonyloonywitch

01/09/2021