Replying to Thoughts After Dark

Do you remember the sound
Which wakes you each morning?
Is it the chirping of birds,
The shouts of the neighbours children,
The snoring of a lover,
Or the soft fingers of your little one?

I have zero lovers so I wake up to either the chaos of my very own fruits of my womb; sometimes to the flowing buzz of the moving traffic and when I am lucky, a small songbird taps my window panes with it's beak. It's usually soft grey and somehow maroonish in colour.

What did they call you as a child?
What do they call you now?
Is it the same sweetness they named me?
I wonder if they lied to you too,
And if like me you tried to live up to it.
Do you still believe them?

They called me a weird name that I had nicknamed my favourite food. I hated it. I still do. But my favourite girl called me by her mother's name. I am named after her with a bunch of my cousins as it is our tradition but no one can match the way my mum delivered it. I felt loved.

Believe? No. Thank you.

Do you know pain and aloneness?
The type that nudges you awake each morning,
Silently telling you fake it once more.
Do you close your eyes to it
While quietly turning it into a sound?
Do you accept it and bask in it?

I am made of loneliness myself. Pain long occupied where innocence once resided. And yes, I have inner conversations read, serious arguments to try and motivate my bones to leave my bed most of my mornings. She always wins.

The reason could be a flicker of hope that keeps surging forth from my depths; whispering that if I make through a long night or an early morning then better awaits. You should see me retreating to enable better to find my pessimistic soul.

When did you recognise who you are?
How did you discover your real name?
I am a wild child.
Wildness is me and I am it.
I wake each morning wanting more.
Is it the same for you?

I am on that journey of discovering self. My name stuck through my mother's loudness. She roared like a lion I tell you. Wild I was too until death came for her and had to do some growing up overnight. Chasing it's wind too.

Do you have dreams?
Do you feed your unquiet soul?
Do you derive pleasure from any of it,
Or you live each day waiting for it to end?
Does it make your heart beat faster?
Are you happy?

Dreams are there for every dreamer and I am a dreamer. One that experiences nightmares more than good dreams. I feed mine through good music or anything created by a healing soul. It is how I heal. I try to live through even the days I try to wish away. Only blunts make my heart beat faster nowadays.

Yes I am. Somehow. Are you happy yourself?

Capri23Auto/Pixabay.

This is how I or what I was replying to every stanza of @chinyerevivian -Thoughts After Dark.. The idea is to heal with her or anyone healing at the moment.

BQ.