It's Time This Time

I look pretty, unpredictable as well as painted
Beautiful pictures colour-painted around me too
People are kind
I am high and bliss is here I feel
Things and days and loves keep falling into places
I never knew could be real.

But I’m painted
While living it good
And sometimes the happy faces make me tear up inside
Just like the ways and means you employed
To mutilate it all, so spontaneous
The laughter’s real
-the joy true
But I’m still painted dear
I just never want you to notice
That you were everything to me-
That foolishly I would break I feared.

We could have been all the could-have-beens, my love
But we became what we became.
Sometimes it is too late.
Sometimes it is unfair.

Never want to question
Never want to punish
Never want to touch
Reasoned.

Forgive me
For I’m turning away
I will not Forget
I’m taking it all back and forth and floor and love and skin and bones and grass and sky and warmth and winter and rains and songs and voices and hands and seats and tea and mornings and freedoms and squeals and clouds and smoke and time and breaks and covers and showers and friends and babies and promises and lives lived.
I’m saying Hell.

This paint’s good.



-Sriya Coomer

September 20th,2009.
10:30pm.