An Opera of Comedy and Tragedy

An oversized vintage T-shirt is My weekend attire or More like my mainichi attire My face bare Exposing an unnamed galaxy of freckles The bottle of Cheap combini Apple sparkling wine Feelin like a millionaire A neon highlighter between my lips A novel in my hand While the others wait its turn Lounging around in piles All over my room The mismatched mugs With the coffee or tea I didn’t finish drinking Sitting cold Flipping through different playlists Am I feelin like the present Might be better to Throw it back a little To the better days When the places I commuted to were Not only My desk chair in the morning And My bed at night Gazing up at the Skies of my ceilings and walls To see the stars of impressions I’ve found light years ago Will I find other vibrant constellations That are none like the rest? I stare at the blank walls As if I can magically materialize Somethin Just a little different somethin To make the days Pass a little faster My scars on my hand are healin The scars of last summer Dangerous carelessness A slip of the hand A slip of the slicer A bit of blood but no foul It was all my mistake of the making Silly silly mistake At least I’ve been fortunately given Given the gift of time To heal To grow And face em front fearlessly Some days breaking down In nightmares With unknown meanings That cannot be depicted Some days breaking down Into grateful laughter The colors of my nails changing like the Changing of the seasons The quiet but solemn translation From spring to summer Sakura pink to Silver scales of mermaid lagoons Dreamin of the day To return to sea The waterfalls of rain Spraying my windows The trees bellowing in the wind Come golden beans of sun With the cicadas Announcing the first day of aelin Opening the curtains to midsummer The season of magic and fairies Yet I stay on my chair Undisturbed by the chaos Outside my window Writing the verses My heart tells me To compose The feelings That cannot be fathomed Into stars The abendrot sun Sees through my smile in the daylight The nyctophilic moon Solemnly watching my Silent cries at night They both keep my secrets As I keep composing My operas of comedies and tragedies