Born To Be Nothing But Me. – Calosha
Slow music at the sound of falling waterfall. I keep all the meaning behind water that falls on my face meaningless, only to call it a miracle. Spotless without any water mark by nature. I mostly flew below all these falling waves, most of my life. Now, I walk right through them with the best…
You looked for everything, and now everything feels like nothing. Maybe, we are all looking for everything, by going after nothing. I calculated each time I ended with nothing in place of everything I ever desired. Happiness was the ask and emptiness was the gift wrapped in glitter. Maybe, it was emotion I asked for…
If I had to, only write about love, I’ll be writing about suffering in silence and dying in horror for enduring, not really speaking up, for love. Is that, what love is for you? Is it, dying in silence? I pray you leave and lock all doors behind those relationships. If I had to only…
They said it was okay to be a butterfly in hell, and I rose to the occasion and left them speechless. Moving in the cave with light feet, scared I’ll wake up the dragon within me. Like the way I burnt all bridges that day. Few things can be really underrated, like racism, and so…
All my plans, really not mine, or are they?
As soon as they come by, I see why I shouldn’t force any. A dog with a bone, now water that fits into any.
All the plans made, not really mine, or are they?
All this overthinking, all this wanting the best, not…
I am on borrowed time, now catching up to all my good doings. Seven cat lives, with six different fights, fighting at the same time. Who holds my hand is dismissed by many. I can’t debate them, so I live all six lives and fight the same fights they cry about.
You see, some things…
My soul told my mind a sad story on a Friday: “Wood from the tree, nails from the ground deep within. A hammer from the minds who wanted to make it easier to pierce a nail through.
Now pounded on the flesh of the immortal. High up, in-between the two, for all to see,…
I said many things, many times over, in the same span of time. Now it is a new hour, time for old habits to die young. Correcting with red ink and a kiss on the cheek. I was so lucky to have empathy for someone who has a new hour to pan everything out.
…
Keeping track of the track record left behind by all whom I have a tendency to forget, who had a hand in lowering the knife from the back of my heart. Forgiveness was never supposed to be forgetting what was written by my own blood on the walls I had raised out of fear.
Now…
I say, “Let’s get back to it.” How love in life is less about love and more about if they treated you right — and I can say without a doubt, they didn’t. How hope in life is less about enjoying the present and more about worrying about tomorrow. How, in this life that we…
“This Story” series of stories written by Calosha Gomes on everyday life. How living is not really living if freedom, peace and above all, conditions placed on were and how One or the Other even breaths. How everything is labeled as unnatural and natural is anything that goes viral. One person and the Other person…
I am back in the cold wind, flying higher than the last time I walked these streets. The green light is on my side, and so is the sidewalk on the right side of the universe. The sky is what I waited for fondly, and I smile as I make my way back from 29°C.
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