It was on a Tuesday when [[I sent a message|screen]] Asking you how you've [[been|Fear]], Circling upon your own life, [[distant|Distance]] Like a [[fairy tale|Face]] and I wishing I could Permeate in-between the pages of your bookThe screen lies blank, the cursor blinks knowingly That I would be incapable of summoning The exact equivalent of how much I felt close to home When I remember [[your face|Face]] How then must I conquer these walls If they are [[spaced far between us|Distance]] Dancing through snapshots of [[your life|Face]] Sent through a membrane that science has yet to define I feel like I am just an observer of the treadmarks Of where you've been, a historian of the minutes past All your words distilled for effect and clarity Whereas I would have gladly embraced The [[chaos|Break]] of you Tangled within the mass of meShould we then be forced To [[replay|Regret]] over and over again the distant roads we have taken Taking into consideration the [[fork|Fork]] we have walked upon [[Gambling|Hope]] on the hopes that these lines do not run Parrallel but intersect once moreBut, as with all things wanted and treasured we play And we [[play|Play]] for keeps and for granted Like little children given a gem, understood as something valuable But lost in our small clumsy hands Forgotten amongst a pile of toys that we never play anymore Distant and pure, a memory of happiness [[tinged with regret|Regret]] So we play And we hope, that we'll know the rules by know That we have grown into something more meaningful, instead of the [[Mass of discordant choices|Choice]], and retakes that we have come to encompassFor we fear the final cost of the games we play That in reality we are playing with something we cannot Afford to lose But at the same time we are also playing With abandon For the freedom felt is unlike anything felt, or shared before And we spread our wings and [[we fly|Flight]]A hope of undoing the very act of burying our youth Our unpretentiousness and our openness in the effort of seeming Strong and well-adjusted with the help of the each other We yearn to reanimate our dead lives With a lot of [[laughs and giggles|Play]] and the awe of exploring the depths Of something so benign as the backyard Or better yet the bedroom So we hope, of freedom We hope of [[flight|Flight]] Twisting and turning within ourselves until we find out That we are right all along, buried by our own egoes and the need For self-appreciation, we lie blinded by the facts that we are In truth blind, grasping along the walls of our very caves Hoping to find the light to guide us home Hoping that the light is held by the other in some sort of [[Romantic fashion|Play]], never really understanding that We carve our own lanterns out of the physical manifestation Of our own regrets Yet we try and we boast We are proud and honest and we are both broken But we grasp in search of an open field to take us somewhere [[Soaring upon the very thought of each other|Flight]]So here I lay, asking myself With all the things I have gambled and played with And so come [[Wednesday|Wednesday]]Then with the efficiency of a murder you [[broke|pain]] The very effect you implanted in me which I have made My home in moments where I lay asking for the sun I remembered your [[voice|Voice]] on that night, it didn't felt frail Or shattered, nor anything which I might have imagined it to be Excuse my lack of imagination, I was hoping that you might have been [[Fighting|Fight]] the urge for the sake of things sharedI distinctly recalled you sounding firm and resolute As if the desicion was already weighted and played out on a board And the final logical [[conclusion|Think]] was brought forth Under microscopic scrutiny and inevitability You have summarized the things which we have built To be so [[unattractive|pain]], a misprintThen the silence for which you assumed that I have nothing to say And I do not want to speak out since I have the same notions as such Wherein I was frantically gathering all the flayed and swept away Grasping all that I could hold against the storm and finding out that My hands are weak and I could not save the very shelter I have lived in For so long against a deluge that warrants destruction as much as [["I think this is not working anymore"|Think]]Had we not then shared together in building the very thing Which you are now so hell-bent of destroying So then I must assume that as before I'll be watching The treadmarks you make while you so busily tear down The memories that have held me close in [[comfort|Comfort]]The blame would be for me hence For I have overstayed my welcome here And I forgot the very notion that you are the very wind The very earth, and the very sky And I am but a person trying to encapsulate you inside A small tinder box to hold to my own So then I guess your freedom warrants more Than the things I could open up, I could only just wished That you have left the memories intact and glowing Not a dim, sputtering bulb of what it was meant to be For in your absence I have been left scrambling for the light And in the darkness I have found none <a href = "http://AllowOptimumLogic.neocities.org/">END</a>''It Was On A Tuesday'' //|isoya|// <smalltext> Experimental piece done by me during one of the idle moments of October, first time trying to write a non-linear poem and I don't know what to do with it and how to approach it. In hindsight, I just want to try Twine really and was too lazy to make this a prose opting for the shorter, more concise poem. </smalltext> [[Read|tuesday]]For I feared what I cannot know How little were my knowledge of you Mere holes poked at an impregnable wall Mere glimpses into the sunshine where Your rays pass through illuminating in slanted lines The place where I hide And so I [[poke|screen]] again, trying make a picture out of A scattered collageShining amongst the inner reccessess of my memories Tucked within my childhood runs across empty spaces Arms flapping wildly in the wind, carressing my face I feel free I feel like the sun itself came down upon to plant a sly kiss Knowing that forever can be contained in a moment Replayed until the tape [[scratches and breaks|Break]] Until what I have is a bright nostalgia that defines YouAt which I stared at something that only vaguely registered as real I was hoping that the dissolve I was seeing would somehow Creep into my chest to slowly eat away the gnawing pain Of loosing something that has kept you alive for so long And then I sat asking myself The many cliched myriad of questions As if the answer is to be found if I could get a high enough grade On a checklist As if all the things that we took pleasure in together failed Some sort of a quality inspection at the end of the conveyor belt Discarded and thrown I ask, who then endures the process again of being broken down To bare minimum elements and then rebuilded again Knowing that there is refuge and solace in being left alone as A piece of [[waste|waste]]Which was then returned as something I could not recognize A machinery which failed to found its purpose Which is mainly to be held close in your arms and kept safe An investment of opening up the vulnerabilities in hopes that You wouldn't get too creative with the knife Sadly I have found that it wouldn't fit anymore in my chest As it has conformed to your [[hands|Comfort]]Had you forgotten then that time when looking into each other's eyes We made a vow, I was carrying luggage full of everything And at the same time nothing, looking on at the space where We would walk in altered directions But we choose to move on and try In search of being the excemption to the rule we have observed We were then sure that we are solid and somehow we will see Some sort of happy ending And we [[play|Play]]