• Vol. 05
  • Chapter 03
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It’s all Blue

White walls never made me human and walnuts cracked alien beings
So I sniffed the resilience of dorky dust that located itself softly on my yellow desk
there I saw and met the porcelain face of the moon, with holes and inundating faces of cracks
I ate my red breakfast and burned my face with crackers to solemn the leftovers of delusions.
Hush, hush...Say no more.
Psychopaths and Rapists always cling these ceilings
like a green tornado, eating my arms and borrowing my used nail-cutters
Thumping the cliffs of forlorn ankles, I eat my penumbra hoax of crocodile waters
Often, I swim into the pool of bastard mockery of you.

I swim and swim
like floating oxygen, choking your pharynx
and like a whistle of the old vintage pressure cooker,
I disappear. An atom. A molecule.

I know I am still surviving somewhere in the lost woods
or like a mayhem in the darkness of your crooked voice
    Somewhere amidst those telephonic calls, in the colours of
    agony and remembrance
    somewhere in the chants of the holy 'Geeta'.
    A vexation. A loop of hope. I am still a colour if you must know
slowly and softly I shall whisper my name in this dirt of your vixen eyes too.

For you must know I am growing and itching each day the back of my head producing a new colour now.


It’s all Blue

It's all Blue here.
It's all vivid Blue.
My favourite perfume and the pain.