The yellow light adds warmth to the room that you can only see but not feel. Like an illusion, its comfort satisfies the mind with tricks and lies. There’s a dreamcatcher by the bed that’s caught more dust than nightmares. I twirl it once, contemplating whether it should stay or not; finally deciding that it could continue to stay for show. Leaving behind my suitcase, I walk over to the window. You can see the city and the beach from here. And somewhere at a distance, if you looked closely enough, you’ll see a ship going into the horizon, slowly, and then suddenly, completely out of sight. I tug at the sleeves of my black t-shirt, dragging it closer to my maroon nails, over my pale palms. I rub my arms with my cold palms trying to warm myself. Sitting down on the bed, I feel the illusion of the presence of another me staring into the window in front her.
All it takes
Is the little voice
Inside my mind
Replaying all the
My skin smells of
Shea butter and vanilla,
It’s a canvas
For the blade
In my wallet
The five o’clock twilight is right around the corner. You can see it painting the white dining table in hues as though the sun’s hiding behind the black trench coat in the corner of the room like a child with a missing milk tooth. The room smells of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. It’s been two years since I’ve been here and, I never realized how much I missed this place till she opened the mahogany door. Her smile is still the same. It’s just that there’s a few more grey strands and the wrinkles have grown deeper. But the smile is still the same. And she still wears the same shade of red, lined with a subtle maroon, highlighting her cupid’s bow in the most powerful way possible. You’d think she’d be delicate but her hugs embrace you with warmth and firmness. Do you know those hugs that are like a safe haven? The ones that make you feel safe? Like nothing could go wrong? Her hugs were like that; joining every broken fragment within you together.
I’m that string of fairy lights
that’ll glow softly along
the entire path.
I’m that firework that’ll set
the dark night’s canopy
I dreamed a dream from a broken world,
Of a world without cracks,
Of a world where laughter bounced on the canvas dome of limitless hopes,
Of a world where literacy ran through the tender hands of children and not rivers of blood,
I dreamed a dream from a broken world.