Autumn in March

I combined words I’d written at different points in life for this one.

What I aim to communicate through these words is the feeling of every day being mundane, possibility not exciting you anymore and being hopeless.

This Place

Every place I’ve stayed in or been to gives rise to certain feelings. Often, I subconsiously relate places to objects, colours and certain words. (Is that some sort of synesthesia?)

This is one of those poems, about one particular place.

 

(Side note: If any of you would like to connect on Goodreads, be sure to leave your username in the comments. Here, my latest reads are updated in the menu section in the upper right corner ♡)

Color me Grey

 

The grey had found a home in the white, it consumed ruthlessly until it was dark and dull, like the sky had turned ashy. But it was beautiful, it was the color of death yet it felt like the beginning of all we never had, it was grey fog on our work of art but it was breathtaking.

Bronze, auburn and heather have their share of beauty but mauve is a breath of fresh air. The air tasted sharp the day grey took over, like droplets of water, the color of sea foam were dispensed somewhere inside. The air looked like the color of broken bones but it was stunning, like ivory had met stone.

Raven and ink have their share of hiding our scars but slate is the color of invincibility. The ground was soft the day grey took over, like its burden was already gone, like broken promises and unmet dreams had sailed away like dandelion seeds. The ground still looked shaken but it was bracing, like obsidian had met tangerine.

~ Saadia

Warmth

1. You may have a dark sky

Fractured by city lights

But I have an orange veil

That reminds me of summer nights.

And a promise that the sky holds

Our dreams and our ambition

Trying to make a sense

Out of one broken world.

So today, I pick up the pieces

And arrange them skyward

And I know that these colors

Will be enough

To form another sunset

Tinged with the warmth

Of a last hug.

– Saadia

Run

Run, kid, run till your lungs ache and your shins split open. Run till you leave the dead earth hanging on the shattered horizon. Run, leave the immaculate fields behind, plains where the grass is too green, run and strip the unnecessary. Run, love, run till your eyes have drowned in an ocean of stinging tears, run till the trees drift away into an illusional distance. Run till the rain has drenched your bones and the snow nestles in your hair. Run till you are carved raw, run till you find the abode of your demons and the abbey of your angels, run , for the sake of your damned life, run. Run till colours drink themselves up in the sky and the night folds into herself.

– Saadia

Mist

And the mist scatters

what is and what was,

dulling the drugged senses,

hazy , like people,

in their wrong minds.

~Saadia

A milestone.

Thank you for having my back through all 200 posts and 2 years and whether you were here from day 1 or joined this community yesterday, I owe you all  ❤

Repercussions || A Gallery

Forgetting

Perhaps I have posted this before but this is a re-edit 🙂

Enter a caption

Grey

How can a person hate others

when he never learnt to love himself

Can a person laugh at a homeless man

when he doesn’t have a home in his house?

How can I calm you down,

clear whatever you doubt of me,

when I never learnt to quieten this heart.

~Saadia 

Smoke

Burnt.

Inferno