Turtlely yours   (©Lenny)
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Joined 2 June 2018


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Joined 2 June 2018
24 MINUTES AGO

He shuttles me
app to app
room to room
work to work
allowing a vacuum
to embrace my present.
Losing it to my teeth,
my nails question my stomach
why it doesn't let go of him.
The butterflies he gives
are beginning to nibble me to
isolation.
They call him anxiety.

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43 MINUTES AGO

There's a place out there
where it's mysterious dark
but too many eyes to glow it up,
where the sun sneaks in
to check if we're alive
and the moon hears
her echoes.
Where words slope down
and pool up for us to
keep sailing through.
Where rainbow nets
are sprawled around.
A little like margarine,
a little like honey,
this is purple valley
for you.

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AN HOUR AGO

With curiosity smudged
on her forehead,
kindness swarming about her body
and fragility dripping from
the tips of her strands,
she hopped, she wept
she giggled, she quivered
she built, she broke
but never dreamt of me
who would pine to make
her a home within.
That child was a pearl
and I, a barren oyster.

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YESTERDAY AT 13:03

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YESTERDAY AT 1:08

Today my subordinate handed me cash enclosed in a medicine envelope. At first I was hesitant if I should open it before a little isolation. But then my heart was ticking for all the things I should get done with that money. Without further ado I slided two bundles out, counted them and rethought, "Damn, he placed it in the right envelope. But, not everyone a doctor who prescribes it." After my work, while returning as I passed by a govt. hospital all men seemed tiring rich and at the private ATM all men seemed glowing poor. I know, I won't swallow coins for dinner nor cash for morning bread slices. But this paper heart is one hell of an envelope is what I realised.

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25 OCT AT 21:56

The stars eyed
the moon
who revolves around earth.

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25 OCT AT 21:46

One fine autumn
the leaf
fell for the road.

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24 OCT AT 18:28

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24 OCT AT 0:51

the desires get brighter.
But what use are they of
when the stars by morning
disappear or do we
glorify the sun a little too much?
Why should we not
make thunders our weapons
and storms our summer drinks?
Then the stars will reside
in our eyes and
nights won't grow darker.

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23 OCT AT 16:23

If turtlely yours were a poem

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