Lost

Just Another Day...
Week...
Month...
Another eon.
Here, Just sauntering around...
Comfortably.
then Hurriedly.
then Panicked.
"Are you looking for something?"
"Aren't we all?"

A Passion,
A Love,
A Home,
A Family.
A Sense of Belonging.
"So, What are you looking for?"
"Nothing."

It's all Lost.
In the Talent,
The Intellect,
The Friends,
The "Friends",
The Loneliness,
The Complacency,
The Sentiment,
The Apathy.
"Are you sure?"
Haha, "Ofcourse."

Those Feelings.
The Blush at the Thought of a Name
The Rage at the Mention of a Place
The Nostaolgia at the Texture of an Old Gift.
Those Connections.
The Faces which have Names.
The Places which have Memories.
"So, why're you here then?"
Umm,"Just taking a walk"

The Lies.
"C'mon you know you can trust me?"

Life Isn't a Game.
But it reminds me of a few.
"Tell me, what're you looking for?"

Mother.

In All Honesty; I was Born.
A feat not easily accomplished without a Mother.
Though I was Born Blue
(Umbilical Obstruction)
But I was Born all the same.
Born.
But was I Mothered?

Childhood..
One of Fear and Tantrums.
The Fear was Instilled
And the Tantrums were Inherited.
I'm My Mother's Son.

I Grew
And Fear became Contempt.
Tantrums became Soul Devouring Silence.
And Inheritance became Contrast.
I was trying to Escape Her.
Honestly.
But from the Day I was Birthed There was No Escape.
I am my Mother's Son.

They say Boys marry their Mothers.
Well.. Women like Them.
And the Thought was Terrifying.
It was a Fate to be Avoided..
"Avoided"
Trying to Escape Again(?)

Then Again. I Grew.
Contempt became Apathy.
Soul Devouring Silence became Inadvertence.
Contrast became Distance.
I Hadn't Escaped.
The Leash just became Longer.
And Weaker.
I guess Mother's mellow with Age
Ours and Theirs
But its Still Horrendous when Emotion is Replaced with Nothing.

So Now
I Feel I've Grown to be Quite the (Bad) Excuse for a Son.
The Feelings (Or Lack Thereof) have gotten to me.
And, Though I Hope I'm still Reparable.
If I'm Not.
All I Can Hope is that My Children's Mother will be Loved.
And that I Wished I Had Loved Mine.

Greyscale

I never did Like Colours.
Always preferred the Nighttime
Appreciating the Silver-Grey Overlay
The Moon's own Interpretation..
Visual Silence.

No need for Hues.
The Saturation set at Zero.
The Distractions Fade.
The Tired Eyes Appeased.
No more Technicolor Assault
Just the Smooth Stylings of Black and White.
And the Everything (or Nothing) in Between
.....
Optical Jazz??

Grey is More Colourful than it Seems.
In its Shades and its Tints
Stories Hide.
Of Adventure, Discovery, Innovation...
Love, Loneliness...
or Aloneness..
Whichever one.
But every Genre; Somewhat Clear
As it fades to White.

Pure Monochromatic Bliss...

We All know the Soothing Caress of Darkness.
Surrounded by Nothing but Nonexistent Music.
Where the Eyes are free to Roam
Beyond the Temporal.
Where Truths Lay...
Able to Explore. Discover.

There is Disillusionment in Colour.
Separation and Incongruence.
It seems Clear Then.
At least to me.
"Everything Looks Better in Black and White".