Third Clink

October gifts me a book of choices and tells me that love is a circle who’s best and worst ends always touch each other.

November gifts me smiles and I feel happy to have the ability to return the same.

December is a he who talks less and my midnight scribbles don’t have the strength to describe his goodness.

October’s lullabies sound like sunflower symphonies. It rubs it’s cold feet over my warm ones while opening a jar painted in neons and pastels. A jar of dreams and nightmares it reads and October pushes it’s long fingers to pull out a piece of parchment from within. It reads “dreams and nightmares” loud enough for it to be audible, and then looks at the ceiling with dreamy eyes. It says dreams end with nightmares and vice versa. Happiness and gloom are like best friends, they visit homes together. Different stars form a constellation, and constellations of different shapes and sizes decorate the crown of the mighty sky. Love is of the shape of a circle. It’s best and worst ends always touch each other. It looks at me and holds my hands, it’s touch as soft as a poppy. It further tells me how we don’t have a choice in life.

We can’t just choose sun and keep running away from rain. Don’t feed yourself bright stars when your tongue can’t stand the taste of the burnt ones. My hands are painted in the shade of destruction. I’ve destroyed myself. Choices came in pairs but I always chose to keep one of them, the best of the two, and that’s the worst choice I’ve ever made. I chose love without hate and the tears of separation that love cried for seven months destroyed every inch of love that made home in my the crevices of my skin. Wrong choices and definitions I had built destroyed me. I looked at October. It stood silently, blinked it’s eyes a few times, then smiled and slept.

October gifted me a perspective and I could feel my lips curl into an are I had never worn before. November tripped over my front door and gave me a sheepish smile. I smiled back at it, happy that I could finally reciprocate the response. It walked over to me and kept it’s gladiolus hand on my shoulder. November dances with me and laughs at me everytime I fall, but helps me stand on my feet and brushes the dust off my skirt. It’s strength sounds like laughter and tastes like the cold brew that lifts up my nerves and helps me throughout the day.

November chooses to teach me how to fight the wounds and hurt over hurting me. My mind travels back to the book of theory of choices that October gifted me. I rub my hand over it’s pages and eye November while it lovingly plays with neighbour’s golden doodle. Day one turns to day thirty, and November finally sits over it suitcase, trying to chain it up. It smiles at me and I smile back. November gifted me lessons but also smiles, but what makes me the happiest is that I could return it’s a favour with my smile too. Genuine smiles and a genuine goodbye to November.

I patiently wait for December. It walks in my front door very princelike, and I instantly feel that December is a he. Honeydew happiness fills up my throat. He pours both of us a cup of tea each, and make me feel home for the very first time, in my own home. He looks like perfection in the morning and a bottle of glistening liquid luck in the evening. His presence is enough to fill me up with positivity, motivation, and magical vibration. He speaks less, but his face is a book I could read everyday. His eyes reflect goodness of nature’s soul, his pink lips feel like solace; he smells like tender romance.

He asks if he should go back, and I say no. He feeds me stars painted in confetti, his touch belongs to a mother. I gift him roses and he accepts them, his love belongs to a lover. I keep admiring him, he keeps smiling at me. He gifted me a dress of new hope, a dress I am sure I’d look beautiful in. He calls it a goodbye gift and waves towards me on the 31st evening of the month. I look into his eyes, still admiring the goodness he holds. He asks me to promise to hold onto broken pieces of glass everytime I enjoy the moon’s beautiful presence. I smile at him. An unbreakable vow I call it. He smiles and leaves and I continue to paint his goodness on the walls of my room. ⠀

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Kirana

Kirana

expose my own inner layers with writing.