Explore Tempurature

You left where you were, Gone without a trace, I only locate where you are, After you change place, And I’m searching the spaces, In which you were last seen, While you’re pursuing places, I have formerly been, But footprints are overlapping, Crisscrossing on the ground, You’d think with both us looking, We would be easier found, Yet somehow ‘hide-and-seek’, Is hardest if no one hides, Lost following tracks encircling, The same old rounded sides, For at least if you’re not moving, I can learn where you are not, Alas instead in unison, We are both seeking and sought, It is so much simpler to find, What isn’t looking for you too, Guess i lost something unfindable, Because I still always seek you.

Disease, it was planted to grow beneath my skin; my blessings were tainted by some sort of sin. my coughs not contagious to the physical state, but should you sneeze a sorrow it's already too late. this illness spreads like weeds, unless no one can tell... so I pretend i'm no victim, to feeling unwell. still I lay myself on bedrest, while they wonder why; because I wear a smile, whenever someone walks by. my poor bones, complaining. my skin dulling pale. with no strength in my soul my body becomes frail. as to not share my sniffles, I quarantine myself away... to suffer as they wonder why I am this way.

Conversations intersecting, to follow rules of play, replies mere inspiration, of what next to say, borrowing bits of anecdotes, as if to raise a score, winners win with quality words, or whoever has said more, because everybody is babbling, a dozen dialogues to deaf ears, when nobody is listening, to anything they hear, and no board is required, this games must have changed, all but the poor communication, where no thoughts are exchanged, letters are overlapping, until they cannot be read, like speaking in unison, to a separate sentence said, cause we're competing players, and this is how you play, Just continue talking, until there is nothing left to say.

Beauty is loud laughter, Happiness neglects to hush, Its the messy bedhead hair, We are yet to brush, Beauty is an outside voice, The creases of a smile, Grumpy moods and attitudes, That show once and awhile, It’s all the left feet dances, As clumsy as a child, The parts of us untamed, The sides of us still wild, Grey hairs and wrinkles, Even belly rolls too, It’s your body being human, It’s your soul being you, From scars to stretch marks, To freckles on our skin, The attempts to suppress a smile, That we fail to win, Alas we think it isn’t beautiful, Too humble to let love touch, But sweetheart… You are always enough, And never too much.

Happiness isn’t interested, While sadness often flirts, But I can prove that healing, Is summoned by what hurts, Despite my lack of witnesses, There is evidence I found, That there is still some goodness, In the bad that comes around, So now I write this testimony, Because we got it all wrong, Sometimes joy needs an invitation, Before it can come along, We are without the realization, With not one single clue, You can’t persuade the world, With what cannot convince you, The world’s providing proof, Where shadows shelter light, On the distant blackened sky, Stars decorate the night, There’s a sunrise to be witnessed, In the act of moving on, For each and every darkness, Has ended with a dawn.

I slipped on single seconds, and I spared few minutes free, always one step ahead, was where I had to be, so I chased after the heels, of the ever setting sun, only then would I live my life, when it is almost done, still I sprinted for finish lines, although the prize is death, but as fast as I ran the race, I couldn't catch a breath, sand slipped from my fingers, as times disappear, like later was impatient, I hurried it to here, maybe that's how it happened, a turtle won against a hare, to be happy here and now, instead of over there, I had rushed to be early, or at least on time to fate, yet the winners are the ones, who cross the line late.