Happy?

Just a line
and a rainbow I am promised.
One by one they appear.
All I've known, all I've loved,
they are seven colours.

They play
hide and seek now.
They laugh
and pounce on me.
A blast
that tickles.
Then a scream, they mistake
for laughter.
An expression they think
ensures good health.
An irony,
a cancer.

The seven still play.
The seven still laugh.
Oblivious.
Ignorant.
Superficial.
Loud.
Chaotic.
Then they hurt!
All I've known, all I've loved?
They hurt
and turn away.

Slowly, they fade.
My colours unite.
All I've known, all I've loved.
My seven turn black.

And then I laugh...
to bring them back...
to beg for mercy...
to long for company...

"Come back, please."

"Remember the line,
remember the line!"

It is a process
for white to turn seven to turn black.
Welcome.
Accept.
Love.
All I've known, all I've loved.
Geometry will facilitate kaleidoscope.

All I've known, all I've loved
will return.
A mirage.
Touch, I shall not;
feel, I shall.
Hope, I shall not;
remember, I shall.

All of seven return.

I, a child
clap in glee.
The seven now dance
in a blissful frenzy.
Seducing.
Inviting.
The orgy starts.
Making love
with a vengeance.
Cursing.
Screaming.

And then the colours explode
again.
All that I've known, all that I've loved
continue to dance.

I embrace this insanity.
I promise to return
to this brothel.
Where, just a line
And a rainbow I buy.


---
All things BRIGHT and Biprorshee

Heart Shaped Box

How easily you give up
you little, brittle you.
You frail excuse for a heart --
a crybaby, a box full of complaints.

You do not have a mind of your own.
Very strategically so, right?
You probably would have escaped
at the first chance otherwise.
Parasite! Selfish! Bastard!

You have to feed on my joy
and then bleed me and not yourself
when grief arrives.

Why am I to cry your tears?
When you're weak, I suffer.

Parasite! Selfish! Bastard!
With not a care for anyone but yourself,
you have to sob and bawl
when I don't pamper you.
Stupid kid!

Die, won't you?
No, don't!
Knowing you, you will kill me as well!



---
All Biprorshee must be heartless

You're not welcome!

I never danced to the music that change played. I reminded myself each time I should but I could not. I am not a beach, am I? I am not made of sand, am I? I don't like myself being scattered by a wave each time I gather myself up. I cannot rearrange so soon and so many times.
Change is the only thing constant, it is said. Why can't I protest? Why bother if life is this fickle? It takes a lot of effort, you know to finish your chores and then the horror to find it messed up again.
A cribbing sonofabitch, I have become and it is easy to say I wasn't at fault. Does it make me any less a man if I admit that at the end of the day I am not the master of my destiny?
This is not the life, I ordered. Hell! I didn't even order. I wasn't given the choice.
So whom do I approach for a refund? You who silently watches and smiles? You who cannot give up your mischievous self and have to pull a fast one on me almost every time? You who feigns ignorance and pinches on the sly?
How much more can I pay? I am broke. Broke in every possible sense. You need to throw the molasses away when there is nothing more to squeeze out.
Leave me be. Leave me to stagnate. Leave me to collect dust. Leave me to get used to one minute of this life at least.
Leave!



---
Nothing leaves Biprorshee

Future, tense II

Tomorrow when you slit your wrists
would you hold it against your (good) fortune teller?
Tomorrow when you want to wipe your hands clean
would you panic at your palm?
Tomorrow when the lies stare at your face
would you care about yesterday's promises?
Tomorrow when you dance to the cacophony
would you remember yourself as the musician?
Tomorrow when you're still hungry
would you hate Eagles just as much?
Tomorrow when tomorrow arrives
would you really hang around?

Tomorrow would you care
and remember to hate the present
just as much?


---
All things so disgustingly Biprorshee

Hell People

"...And if you wouldn't care I would like to leave
I hate myself and I want to die
I am not like them but I can pretend
I am my own parasite, I don't need a host to live
Wish away, wish me luck, wake me up
I think I am dumb..."


---
All things Cobain and Biprorshee

Future, tense

Tomorrow I shall live again.
Tomorrow I shall leap for joy.
Tomorrow I shall be strong
and stand for myself.
Tomorrow I shall not go down.
Tomorrow I shall lie
in all sincerity;
tomorrow you shall believe.

Let me for today fail.
Let me for today decide
it shall be the last time.
Let me for today know
I can look forward.
Let me for today say
this too shall pass.
Let me for today trust
a tomorrow.

Times I live in,
times I fade
Tenses I play with;
tensed I stay
I burn myself today
and tomorrow I'll heal.
Tomorrow, I promise!
Tomorrow, I pray!


---
All times of Biprorshee

As you sang...

I heard the song yesterday. Again. Again after a long, long time. It was lying right where we left it last. No cobwebs though; it is just the daisy we knew it as.

I heard the song. I heard you. I saw you. I saw us. I lived us. I lived me sitting next to you. I lived you running your fingers through my hair as you sang. I was the better singer, I always said. You were the better music, I always knew.

You sang with all your love. You sang with all your innocence. You sang to me. The words assured I must not go looking for you because you were right here with me. You sang it like you meant it. You sang it because you meant it.

The words were true. The promise still strong. I heard the song yesterday, you were right there and I stopped searching. I stopped waiting. The music never died and we were Lazarus once more.

I heard the song yesterday. Again. Again, after a long time. It is right where it always was. It remains. You are there too but you are not.


---
All things sing for Biprorshee