The Thirty first of December, 2019

Du matin
sky, quite reddish
alarm buzzes
forehead kisses
half lit cigarettes
walls of silhouettes.

sky, bright white ish
Espresso sips
cuts of her lips
bits of their notes
warm fuzzy coats.

sky, somewhat pink ish
silver in the city
whiff of whiskey
empty lanes
lipstick stains.

sky, midnight blue ish
bonfire lit
lights dimmed
kiss beneath stars
healing our scars.

Can you see?
Can you hear?
Can you touch?
Can you feel?
It’s the year end. Another year ends.

© 2019 _occultatum_

Not A Verse, But few thoughts #3

I hold back a lot of things. 
Sometimes they're the thoughts in my head,
other times the things that I feel and a lot
many times the things I want to say that I really mean.
I hide them from a lot of people.
And here,
I have been hiding behind those 'her's and 'she's and
'few's and 'some's and 'if's and 'but's.
For fucks sake, I have been hiding behind a Latin word.
A complex one but with a really simple meaning
and I kind of really like it. Hmm. Anyway, the point is
that.. I am just afraid.
I am afraid that in a group, I will be the one to get talked over.
And here,
I am afraid that my thought will be the one to get skipped over.
It's like for years I have been building a wall.
Built between me and the rest, it's standing tall.
But now I am stuck. But also I am afraid to leave.
So guess, will just refrain in silence? I am sorry.

P.S. Occultatum means hidden. It's Latin.

© 2019 _occultatum_