Rest assured,
You’ve found your place
Within the narrative.
It is just that most people
Won’t be making it past
The foreword;
You are in the fifth line
Of the last paragraph
In the thirty-fourth chapter
Of a book
That I have yet to write.
©Aaysid
He feels it spreading within him,
A cloud of thick black smoke;
What a privilege, sitting on the rooftop,
Away from the eyes that judge,
Yet exposed, like a nerve – endangered!
The shame of self-demolition masked
By the agony of one poorly aerated organ,
Dying a painful death,
As its misery spreads slowly like a ground fire,
Eventually consuming him all…
He lights another cigarette.
©Aaysid
“In order to understand, I destroyed myself.”
Fernando Pessoa
The world treats you differently
when you walk into rooms uninvited,
overdressed, and way too early
to be considered, as if you were lost.
But there you are, looking at people
who look through you,
making the most out of the unusual circumstances.
What you have forgotten
has also forgotten everything about you.
But every night, you pretend
to make sense of it all,
and every morning, you simply turn up
to go through the motions,
believing in everything
and nothing at all.
©Aaysid
“We are all born mad, some remain so.”
Albert Camus
Featured image generated from Microsoft Designer
A strong gust of wind
makes a round around the block;
a door slams shut
and the empty shampoo bottles
fall off the shelf.
And the sound of a heart
beating a lot slower than usual,
grows a little louder,
louder than the clock
about to fall
off the bedroom wall.
And the bones grow heavy,
tired and creaky,
but the mind perseveres,
for unlike everything
that cannot think
for itself, it has got a way
to let it all out –
It makes me write it all here!
©Aaysid
“I feel as if I’m always on the verge of waking up.”
Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet
Image generated through Microsoft Designer
we cannot help
but look forward
to Saturday nights,
so we can curl up
with a book
as we happily drift
in and out of sleep
with no fear
of being late for work.
©Aaysid
“There was nothing like a Saturday – unless it was the Saturday leading up to the last week of school and into summer vacation. That of course was all the Saturdays of your life rolled into one big shiny ball.”
Nora Roberts
Outrageously Erratic 