Sadness, a Foreign Language by Hinatazuk, literature
Literature
Sadness, a Foreign Language
We are not just a disease.
Or a simple emotion.
We are a people.
For every region, there’s an accent.
Ours are in our words but not the sound.
You can say, “giddy-up” and “y’all”,
But we can’t say we’re miserable.
Both are like the air we breathe,
so common and uncontrolled.
Come on; let’s wake up.
The annoying sirens sing their song from your alarm clock.
Don on the clothing and drag yourself to the sink.
Painting your teeth with a smile.
But it can’t make a light.
Nor can the illuminating red in your eyes.
Nor can anything,
even the mightiest of the Suns.
Come on; let’s wak
As a kid,
lost in the crowd.
Lost in chaos,
lost in sound.
There is one thing I can tell you that I found.
In the beat of the drums,
in the tapping toes to the hums.
It’s not a singer’s voice we’re hearing.
It’s not a singer’s voice that is steering.
What’s driving the noise
of all the girls and the boys
is the sound of their choice.
It’s not about the money
and to heck with the fame!
Get the dollar bills,
greens make for a good flame.
It’s about the lights.
It’s about the city.
It’s about the people.
Who cares for the pretty?
It’s about the vibrations in the ground.
It’
One Kiss (Kiss Your Life Away) by Hinatazuk, literature
Literature
One Kiss (Kiss Your Life Away)
I’m the darkest part of the rainbow,
but even I have so many shades.
They think all they see is sorrow,
what you see is a masquerade.
Take my hand and dance.
The tempo is the beat of my tears.
Let the music make you trance
as to not arise your fears.
Do you feel the life inside this coffin?
Do you feel it flow through your veins?
Do you feel the lively music? Or will you remain tame?
Live with me in the nighttime mist.
All I want is just one kiss.
The kiss to kiss your life away.
Does it feel like home yet?
Pour me some blood, if you please.
You won’t need your body, dear.
Your soul will be part of the breeze.
What do you think
There she is, at the end.
She gave me the warmth of a friend.
But it is getting colder.
If the flame could only start.
If the life could only spark.
Then maybe it will not smolder.
And as you swear
that you will remain there,
I feel so much distance.
Your promise, you may keep.
Clutch me as I fall asleep.
No matter how tight, I fall out of existence.
As I’m going down,
I open my hand.
My palm hits the ledge.
I climb up and start to stand.
I watched a fountain of faces.
They flood downwards. Here, of all places.
But then I saw her soul, so pink and pure.
I reached in and I pulled her.
Her body fell on top of me.
She pointed and said,