The red bicycle

Every self-respecting bicycle should be red
or at least black,
so that when you ride it with other kids
your father can
clearly notice which one is you,
and see how good you are,
or run to you when you fall.

When you clumsily bandage your wound
by pulling up a layer of torn jeans,
unsteadily sitting on your knee,
you wish that you had a red bicycle
so that your father could
see how good you are,
and run to you when you fall.

Bleeding Fireflies

Ok. This place has been dead for too long. I’ve been lazy and I’ve been an idiot. So many things i thought I’d write, amazing ideas came and I forgot them eventually. I’ll start writing again.

This is just something I wrote so I can break that writer’s block which wasn’t really a ‘block’, I was just too lazy to write. I wrote it in five minutes so that I can just post something. Anything. To break the spell.

Bleeding fireflies.

I remember when I first saw a firefly,
naturally, I was amused
and curious, so I cut off its rear end
carefully, with a blade, to see if it still glowed,
but I don’t remember the results of that experiment anymore.
When it rained, I stayed at home,
thinking about sunshine,
and what I would do when I go out.
When the rain stopped,
it was too hot to play outside.
That was the time I learned that a spider,
can still crawl if you cut off two of its legs,
but not if you cut off three.

It was raining when you left me,
I took out a blade and cut myself,
into pieces, and learned
that no amount of physical pain can
take my mind off my broken heart.
My whole childhood was suddenly,
as simple as a Beatles song.
When blood oozed out of my skin,
I learned that I had learned, nothing,
nothing at all.
But if you gather enough fireflies,
I’m sure you can read a book in the dark,
or light up your life,
whichever you want.