Me and My Diary

Me and My Diary

I was traversing through unblemished white lanes,

With my mighty blue weapon to engrave each lamina with my fervid impetuosity.

Yes, it's my diary where every page is an alliance of love and peace,

I made with myself after a tug of war betwixt my self belief and carnal perversity. 

A perpetual practice to exude my inner turbulence in privacy,

To share every clandestine detail with a buddy so reliable.

It travels every alley with me whether it's

gloomy or luminous,

Registering the streaming episodes in its lucid surface with an avouch so dependable. 

My diary knows me the best for it has the saga of every pain I've endured

Also the fulvous smudges, the remains of savoury droplets from my eyes.

It also knows my rapturous whiles carried to me by waft of emphatic zephyr

All rippling moments of ebbs and tides gambling in gentle surprise. 

Me and my diary are the most intimate mates in solitude,

Laughing, crying, consoling, being momentarily euphoric or cringing in anticipation.

Like soulmates I ruminate and ink in its milky pages, occurrences of gliding incidents of my life,

The tender notes of my heart I enclose in your bosom with conviction.