Early Morning Edge

I want to wake up to the thick and murky winter sky, to see the city’s density dissolve within the mist. I want the thunder and lightning to cause my once still body to jolt in fear, to be shortly calmed by the darkness of the early morning. At least that was one thing that would remain unchanged.  Sometimes, I’d miss waking up to raindrops slamming against my window pane.

That was peace, all to be achieved within the loud solitude that exists only in my bedroom.

I can hear it now. It’s 5AM, there are occasional engine roars that fade with the distance, murmurs of those who are just now waking up, or returning home. I can hear the layer of eerie silence, one that was accompanied by the loud lights protruding from the business buildings beyond me, polluting the atmosphere with a colourful haze.

You had a thirsty glint in your eyes, a smug grin on your face, as you told me you wanted to run away. But that’s not what I wanted to do, I couldn’t follow you this time.

I wanted to sit still, I wanted the ringing to stop ; to instead focus on the way the reddish clouds moved, to the distant voices on the other side of the road, the very road that you desperately wanted to run to. I wanted to allow the painfully cold air to freeze me, to listen to the rustling of the flimsy trees, and to not think about anything. But of course, I failed. I thought about everything, all at once.

My youth was filled with returning home to shattered people, with hands that always trembled in either fear or fury. I never once felt like I had a fixed life to run to whenever things go bad. Never would I’ve thought that I’d ever find myself in a disgusting, compact environment, clutching my body in utter hopelessness and just, weep endlessly. To me, that was the worst thing one could ever feel – vulnerability.

I watched as you ran off, you were like a child. It’s like you were running towards Disneyland. In a way, that was exactly where you were headed ; a place with many others like you, vendors to keep you alive, one ride after another, thrill after thrill. You loved the noise, while I was constantly baffled by the fact that my thoughts managed to throb louder than my surroundings. I don’t like your world, the one with a plethora of bodies mindlessly living. Perhaps this pseudo of “happy people” isn’t what I thought it was, perhaps they’re not at all ignorant and instead are the ones who’ve hit rock bottom, the ones who’ve decided that living with no care in the world is the best way to live. Perhaps, people like me aren’t the strong ones.

5AM is beautiful, though. An empty convenience store with a radiating neon sign caught my eye, I dragged my shoes that reeked of someone else’s sick towards it. There I conversed with the sleep deprived employee, and we laughed about our mutual hollowed eyes.

The city remains relatively silent and dim, no sun peeking through just yet, nothing to indicate the start of a new day.

This used to be something I’d see through my bedroom window. But now, I’m walking amongst it. The city looks mesmerising, and I’ve dissolved within the mist, along with it.

Copyright © 2017 | grimmatter.wordpress.com

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

photo source: @thegrimmatter

once, and never again

—the dissonance of winter,

Do you see that over there, the misty city beyond these frilly trees?

Those glowing lights housed our memories of this city, everything we’ve done for the first and last time lies within those lands.

It’s cold, and though the fog blurs our view of the world, and our thick clothes barricade our bond with the earth, I have never felt more real. My vision is influenced by a frosted vignette, but I am looking at life.

Do you recall all the feelings we’ve felt? The highs and the lows, the dark foggy afternoons in the tired buildings, the headlights outside, appearing and disappearing within the golden mist of a ceasing summer.

Here, on this hill, the melancholic remains of an empty summer still linger, like the remains of an unpleasant past swimming in the air, reminding you that they’ll always be there, to put you back in place.

But just because a moment sucks, it doesn’t mean that everything and everyone else existing does.

You come to me with the heavy air you always carry along with you. You like to sit on my shoulders like a child that I shouldn’t care for, weighing me down. You can roam around this city alone, but you’ll never know what it means to be lonely.

It’s not loneliness when you know someone, somewhere, had left the light on at 1am, waiting anxiously for your return. It’s not loneliness when you deliberately avoid what so desperately wants your attention.

Once I leave, I’ll wonder if you’re still there; behind corporate walls, underneath these murky skies.

As we get older, we’ll lose that grip that we’ve once held close to us. We’ll grow apart from childhood friends, as time grows apart from ourselves. We’ll just be ants, looking for a purpose within our little planet, trying to make sense of the life that we have.

—the harmony of independence.

Copyright © 2018 | grimmatter.wordpress.com

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

photo source: @thegrimmatter

it’s just a feeling

I’ve lived two decades and have never seen the world. Not a foreign stone that washed up on the shore, not a taste of authentic culture. I knew nothing of this planet, nothing more than the city that brought me up. Childhood was a fear of never living, life was a picture I couldn’t seem to experience, questioning whether anything really existed. Cold weather, warm sun; stillness in a directionless life, a bright future that’s on the brink of shattering.

But then I met him,

I’ve fallen in love within the rush of the city, surrounded by the fleeting lights of this late night. The zooming of cars, the sharp scent of cologne, his cold wristwatch grazing my skin.

With him,

I’ve gone beyond anything I could ever dream of, been to places I’ve never heard of. I’ve lived contrasting lives, collecting what I believed was missing in my own.

But that’s all it is. We’re just friends, that do things sometimes.

He’s got a different life, a person he comes home to; whom he calms down for, and values more than anything. And if I were more than his friend, I’d have to accept what’s dearest to him. I’d have to grow up, be the person I can’t be for him. I don’t think I’m ready for that, or ever will be.

Because the reality is, you’re a man, I’m just a kid. You’ve lived a whole life before I even existed.

But with you,

I could feel life. You tell me that you regress into your younger self, whilst I’ve lived curiously, and had forgotten about time. We’re like teenagers, because things are perfect, mindless, euphoric. But this is reckless, this is wrong. And I don’t know how much more wrong I could do.

So we remain friends, and we do things sometimes.

 

Copyright © 2018 | grimmatter.wordpress.com

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

photo source: @thegrimmatter

 

Before Sunrise: A Poem

i left my past through an ugly route.

i’d roam these 6am streets.

students would walk to school groggily,

whilst the elderly sat on benches and admired the invisible, chirping birds.

the sun had barely risen,

and the world was dark,

but i’d remember the playlist i’d listen to

when i was the groggy student that staggered through this park.

i recalled the sleeping family that i’d greet before i left,

the quiet bakery i’d stop by right after, then the blur of the day ahead.

the routine repeats itself,

yet i couldn’t crave anything more.

to regress into a time so simple,

well, this here, is my childhood’s core.

Copyright © 2018 | grimmatter.wordpress.com

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

author’s note— a lil poem/prose thing i had abandoned in a document. thought i could make more out of it, but what inspired it was a memory too specific to be altered.

photo source:@thegrimmatter