• _rainfrost_ 55w

    ᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ 7: ������������

    I drive quietly in my car, no song's playing on the radio, 'cause this time I give silence a chance to whisper what it wants to say. This mid-fall gust touches my chapped hands and cheeks and hastens away leaving no trace of warmth. On both the sides of the track, stalks of grasses have bled to parched yellow and canopies try to hold flaming red pieces of time, but they fall apart landing tragically on the ground where they are trampled by sad footsteps and car-wheels of brokenness.

    The moment I pass the crossroad, I take my car to St. Benedict's Park. There stood a church-like building, partly dilapidated and begrimed. I drive past it and some tall torsos of ginkgo trees, and soon reached a lake, still as everything. I left my shoes in the car and walked, feeling the sod and dust brush my soles.

    I sit on the wooden plank, coffee-coloured, and dip my toe in the cold, mirror-skin of the lake. And it shudders, with me, as ripples circle around on the surface. I dip my fingertips too and find them stained with a deep blue fluid, and it reminds me how I had painted you in midnight blue. And then it reminds me of your love, and you.

    There I was just a year ago, covered in velvet blankets with you, hiding away from my fears. And now the invisible demons follow me around in the withered daylight, and I'm sitting here alone by the water watching my reflection haunt me. You knew me so well. Like I was a statue made of glass with a glass-heart. You turned me to gold but now I'm rusting.

    Swallows skim around in the monotonous grey sky, burying their heads in clouds. I see every piece of everything trying to run away and not lose touch with a merry fate, but beautiful things, they are made to break into sad proses before a poet's eyes. And just like so, I see my love breaking before my eyes, so blue and moist.

    I was a lonely mere bluejay, with chandeliers of poetry flickering over my head, never knew I'd crumble my walls down and take the chain off the door, for a girl standing at the golden gate of my imagination.

    I swear you were my everything. I was just so frustrated to think anything. Usually, you made me feel warm and loved each night, but I was too cold that night so I chased the only scintillating star. Who knew it would take me to the wrong track. And now I can't go back.

    I loved you for your lips spoke things we most feared of, and the way you held my soul like a lamp in your hands, lukewarm fire and melting metaphors. Autumn rains on your auburn hair and from your mellow eyes. And you played wild games with me when we got all alone. You listened to my dreams and nightmares so patiently even though I forgot half the part of it.

    I wished that the time would freeze. But time, it's the amber, it sets just to freeze the past not the present. And all my life I've been afraid of mishandling perfect things, afraid of dark clichés, afraid of loud silences. The more I tried to hold the sand of the hourglass back, the more it escaped. Things started to smoke and burn, and weeds wrapped the bars of my cage.

    I told you to stay close to me in these hard times, but you were only slipping farther. I called you to know what's on your mind but you didn't pick up. I felt like I can't mend anything now. So I drove, wheels on cobblestones and broken gravels, to a different place. And I poured my heart out to her. She made me feel alright.

    But now I realize it all was a mistake. You were my only star. And now that I've lost it too, I'm stumbling in the dark. I'm just a homesick wanderer.

    I've stopped drinking coffee for it reminds me of you, but still I stay up late. I used her like a drug, let her carry away my pain with herself. But it seems so hollow nowadays, this feeling, this love, everything. And I know you were the one, but I realized it a little too late.

    It has started raining. Clouds rant a bit and the droplets, they touch the lake and create a symphony so sadly soothing. I close my eyes. I feel the cold water numb my skin. But before I open them, I wish everything turns still, the winds, the rustling foliage, the rain, the creases on the lake, alongwith time; I don't want anything to move now. I don't want to go anywhere now.



    ᴀꜱ ᴍʏ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴀʀꜱ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟᴀɴᴇ,
    ɪ'ʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴄᴀʀ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ.
    ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴄʜᴀꜱᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ
    ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ꜰᴀᴍɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ʙʟᴜᴇᴊᴀʏ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀᴄᴏʀɴ.


    -����������������

    #ofcoffeestainsandfrenchwine


    Inspiration: @eclipsed_sun :')

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