a yellow melancholy



 As days pass by right under my breath, the scent of my existence makes me want to drown in the ocean of nothingness. Not the lonely and sad nothingness, but the kind that pumps your heart and makes you feel alive. The kind that makes you want to take a deep breath only to realise once again, I exist. From the death of my everyday life, I want to take a deep breath and live once again. I know not why this sensation persists and thrives in me. An inexplicable emotion of a diminishing existence. How long will this let me survive? When will my heart be courageous enough to pump some blood into my emptiness. What is sadness? A large man thumping on my heart, who i fail to recognize and push away. But I am a happy woman. It is just hidden in the crevices of my body that i am yet to reach out to. 

I have lost nothing yet I feel like i have nothing left. Sometimes I look for it in the shut pages of my book, that I am too coward to open. A conundrum that I can neither unobscure nor identify. 

And then I slip into my world of fantasies where dullness is the only success I seek. A common dullness that an ordinary human would runaway from, I want to cling to it. Not exuding extravagance. A simplicity that boasts of its peace. Will I be happy then? Is that all i must sought for? A fading and decomposing physique that revives on nothingness. The same nothingness that has the power to kill. A tug of war between the both, tearing apart your limbs. Which one you must pursue in the shadows of your desires? That's where I lie. In the strife to differentiate between the two and wavering between the dimensionless ends. 

On a sunny day, where yellow daffodils pour from the sky, into the green grass of possibilities, I will be found there. Where it lies? I do not know. 

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