Ship of Thesaurus

You keep returning to them, The memories you've concealed away. What is it about them that draws your attention more than anything else? Do you truly wish to dwell in the past? The one you've preserved in mementos and souvenirs, Now securely locked in your memory. You tell me that time will fade them, erase them like the existence of humanity purged in endless wars. The past you long for isn't your home; It's a prison containing all the pain and hardships you've endured, the ones you've conveniently forgotten. Come back to the here and now; It's not devoid of suffering, But it contains you, armed with the knowledge, and brave enough to  confront any adversity that foolishly challenges you.

Two minds of mine seldom meet  in agreement, bickering often,  never working in tandem. One’s a dreamer, one’s a realist, one’s an artist, one’s a corporate slave. Who I end up being depends on what they say. And then there’s my heart too, the silent observer, listening and gloating, while my mind is busy floating. It never interferes,  or casts any objections, as it knows eventually, I’ll get what it truly wants.

Incomplete sentences leave me wanting more than what I bargained for. Incoherent speeches make me jittery. I know you could do better than whatever you've been trying to say. Words lose their meaning every time they leave your lips and enter mine, I feel lost in my thoughts, wandering surroundings unfamiliar to me. Yet I proceed carelessly because I know you're next to me, even though I feel incomplete.

There's a certain swagger In the way you carry yourself, It's that of a person Exuding confidence, The kind most wish they had. You have an air of Never settling for anything less, You know what you want, And it's what I admire about you. "How do you do it?" I find myself asking you, Again and again. Your smile is the only answer I get. If only I could be like you, Not in mannerisms, But in the knowledge That if you will it, You'd make the world Dance to your tune.

If you could hear the sound of a heart  shattering into a million pieces. Would it sound like glass breaking or  a spaghetti snapping in half? Will it scatter everywhere or fall in one place? Do we stop existing if something like that happens to us? How do people carry on with their lives? Incomplete heart pumping in their chest. Does it still beat? Do they spend the rest of their lives collecting those pieces? Or do they learn to live without it? Could they possibly grow a new one? What does it mean to have your heart irreparably broken? Do you deny its existence completely? Or does it mean you abandon it? When all it wants you to do is hear it loud and clear. Assuring you, “No matter what, I’m here for you.”

You use words like weapons, piercing in their nature, when you speak the truth, hurting me with every syllable.  How I wish sometimes you’d lie instead. I find that comforting,  even when I know,  they’ll inflict a pain I can’t bear. I use mine carefully with you, because I know how much you hate them being wasted,  on pointless conversations, or when we argue. I’d rather have us spend time in complete silence, learning about each other,  our actions revealing our real intentions,  otherwise concealed by our words.   

To a relationship turned sour To a love you thought you deserved To a career at its end To a life you never wanted To a memory of who you once were To the pain you still carry  To the hate for those who wronged you To the burden you’ve borne To your self-inflicted wounds To words uttered in fits of anger How long until you finally learn to let go?

Waves upon waves gently brush against your face, while you lie still, floating in the sea, worry-free, just the way it was meant to be.  This stretch of blue has always welcomed you, it wouldn’t hurt to embrace it once, beneath its surface lies a world too. Where sorrows are a myth,  and sadness doesn’t exist. It’s where you truly belong,  perhaps it’s also where you’re from. A womb enveloped in fluid,  ashes scattered across the river. Life really is a circle,  revolving around water.

Peel away layer after layer of yourself. Until only what remains is your bare self. Take a good look, and you’ll see the scars you carry, the pain you hide. It’s all there— the mark of your existence. Bring them out and reveal your darkest fears, your deepest desires. After all, vulnerability isn’t a mark of shame; it’s the shield of pride you wear, proclaiming to the world that deep down, you’re still human.