to be the kind of person
who will glimpse
the cherry blossom tree
beautifully delicate
in its early bloom
fluttering the palest pink
against a fragile white
desperate against even
the gentlest of breeze
but only observe
the black and the white
of what the premature
might mean for later
commenting how soon
these branches will lose
their graceful lustre
no longer to inspire
those hopeful wanderers
only to appear barren
and lifeless once again

I fell over the other day,
Silly and embarrassing really,
Also ****** painful and in truth?
Avoidable!

But it got me thinking because
I was pulling on a rope when it happened,
A rope that then gave way,
It doesn't matter how,

And as I fell
I grasped that natural fibre cord
Even harder as if it
Even then would save me

From the painful landing,
No breaking fall,
No twist or roll just falling
Holding a slack hempen line,

But we all do this in life,
We hold our dreams long past
The point where they
Even slightly may come true,

We grasp them ever tighter
Even as they slip through the fingers
Of our hearts
And lonely souls

Until we land as I did
In a heap - covered not in mud
But in the knowledge not sjust
That it is over (whatever "it" may be)

So much as that it never was

Nor in fact would ever be

Time is fast, faster when You utilise it and even fastest when You realise it.
                                                      M.S. Anjaan

It's funny being berated for being too busy,
It's funny being told I do too much for others,
Or that I cannot save everyone,
That not everyone wants my help,
That some do not deserve it
And that I should rest
Before I burn out,

What those self righteous,
Albeit well meaning in their way,
Characters do not know,
Cannot know having never done
Such as I do every day,
Is it never burns you out
To help a fellow soul,

They do not know the reward
That the occasional acknowledgement,
Or simple "thanks" bestows,
Or how it charges batteries
Back to fully fit,
However low
They may have been,

But in one respect,
Although they do not know it,
My judges and detractors are
Painfully correct,
For though I burn my candles
Both ends and middle
And show no ill effect,

I have just realised as I sit here
Sad and lonely,
Heavy in heart and my usual
Confident footsteps slowed,
I could really use a chat myself with someone,
A sounding board to hear
Perhaps a hug receive,

But right now

There is,

Noone

let go of dreams that aren’t serving you
let go of dreams that will never come true
you’re still sitting sobbing in your room to songs you were crying to at 14
and what the **** is growth anyway?
doesn’t pain throb the same at any age?
why hang on to possibilities when the potentiality of everything is right there in front of you?
shut up, you stupid *****: you’re brilliant
I love you
I will keep on loving you until you figure out what’s going on here
who you are
is not all you will be
and I love you
you’re mine
what else could I do?

The things I own do not make the boy I am.
The things I'm taught do not make the soul I've inherited.
There is but one truth for every man and woman.

                                                  Mine was that pain is illusory.

                        Find yours in yourself.

I never thought I’d see the day when I would agnise the depths of my desire.

Ingrained in every cell; the swell of emotion
ebbs and flows into each passing day
like the waves we’re all familiar with.
A calling card;
reminding me of the expectation of love,
the anticipation of hope,
and the abuse of obstinacy.

I learn from it everyday.
Paying respect and gratitude as tuition for the lesson called ‘life.’
Freshman year, every year.

Can’t complete the puzzle even when all of the pieces fit.
There is meaning in this.
Sometimes, I wish it wasn’t so.
But I can’t pursue it alone, so I won’t.
“If it can be realised, let it be so when the universe wants it”, is my escape.
But there is no escaping yourself.
You are the universe and it is you.

It has never felt like it wasn’t meant to be.
It has never been like it wasn’t supposed to.
Maybe one day it will manifest again.
Or perhaps fade like all beautiful, fleeting, moments.

You won’t catch me chasing something that doesn’t want to be caught.
You’ll see me walking the other way.
You’ll see my aura welcome it.
And you’ll see me turn around to embrace it with every fibre of my being.
But only if it wants the same things as I do.

If it doesn’t, that’s okay, too.