Pattern Of A Sweater

Individually we start out as a dull color, slowly fading of washed predictions. All it takes for a pattern to occur is a new color that beautifully blends with our original setting. Two colors forming a pattern, crossing lines with initial purpose of manipulating a comfort zone in hopes of achieving miraculous designing leading to happiness forthcomings. Anyone can wear a sweater, not everyone fits the design of different unless their willing to try for that someone worth adjusting. We all look good in sweaters but together stunning would penetrate our view of each other….. let’s fit together as great we look. 

That’s my pattern of a sweater.

– C.A. Thomas  

GOD’s Paintbrush 

Beautiful rectifies you, covering the wings of an angel destined to fly. The stroke of God’s Paintbrush illuminates the truer essence of stunning captivation, capturing a breathtaking moment surrounding the magic of an unforgettable memoir. Paint as blessings showering the emptiness of an unfinished canvas, giving eyes the new meaning of vision, sweet texture pacifying fingertips with smoothness covered in layers. God’s Paintbrush polishes beautiful beyond sight, not only feeling its presence…. but witnessing a victorious triumph.
– C.A. Thomas 

Betrayal

Betrayal, a kiss carrying no meaning, a hug not as trustworthy as the previous. Words no longer distinguishing value as promises drown in expectations of disappointment. Betrayal compared to ice, cold as the premeditation of gentle water forming a cube of ice, hardened in damaging what it touches. The closeness of bondage tampered with elements of suspensional beliefs, triggering curiosity as it paralyzes any hope of good resurrected.  People are capable of change….. betrayal is never forgotten like a dream that’s easy to interpret. 

– C.A. Thomas 

Stipulation

How could I decorate anything if I’m not entitled to ownership? How can I bring anything to life if my signature means absolutely nothing? I’m beyond prepared in altering the presence of change in a beautiful setup, manipulating every detail to my satisfactory. Ownership means everything to me, establishing a legacy for the footprints of my children’s children to follow in the midst of my absence. Stipulation are the strings holding me in place, the reality hindering me of achieving a long dream I’m hoping to awaken. This is one of those times prayer is needed in anticipating my next possible move….. because at this moment, I’m standing still. 

– C.A. Thomas 

The Best Of Me

There’s a piece of me I’m saving for you. The best of me I’m leaving for you, the joyous moment of a dream coming true. Confusion overshadowing a time of grief, leaving me all alone feeling incomplete, finally realizing alone prepares me for the presence of you. Time demonstrates the privilege of my presence, understanding the honesty of my worth tripled by a woman who’s touch instills the maturity within my growth. When our path of destiny collide she’ll inherit the best of me, the rest of me as our love shall ever intend to be. She deserves that part of me.

Till the day I exhale my last breath. 

– C.A. Thomas 

Late Nights, Drunken Thoughts 

Confinement in my house glues me to a lazy boy chair, drinking my thoughts of questioning to a morning awakening of headaches. Putting my mind in neutral as my body entices itself in cleaning away memories expired beyond taste, smelling of dust with life taken away. I’m slowly gaining a piece of myself removing memories of a hurtful goodbye, adding character within each touch I practice. The sun continues to shine so shall I, embarking on a journey of understanding one day at a time. Moving on my accord, setting my own pace, living my life that’s already written for me.

– C.A Thomas 

Love In Translation

The closest to love I could easily translate would be you. My feeling for you demonstrates endless possibilities of spontaneity beyond action. Loving you as the privilege sworn I’d vow to live by, accepting your worst as the reality of understanding an angel’s limitations. Breathless moments of seeing you across the room, heartbeats skipping patterns in hopes of longing your touch in squeezable doses. I’m not your everyday hero, not even a knight in shiny armor, I’m only a man who loves you more than myself. Sometimes I believe my life would only begin the second we fall in love, journeying on a quest that only we’d embark. She may never read this…… She may never know….. I still love her till this day. 

– C.A. Thomas 

Empty

Sometimes I feel empty, emptiness like a house with no furniture. Staring in a large room where life no longer exists but my very own. Memories I try holding onto slip away as my tears blur the vision of remembrance. It becomes difficult each day gaining an inch of happiness, wondering why you left me so soon? Anger would only diminish my conscious of good I have because of you, yet I question your illness in hopes of God granting you a second chance of life. You loved me at the highest platform of my existence, in return reciprocity became the shower of kisses I drowned you in every chance I took. I can smell the essence of you that made it harder in keeping me away, piecing together an obituary and photo collage that resembles my thoughts of you. Now I realize glancing at a program harboring your smile is much harder to view, a death date solidifying every hope and wish of you returning falsified like an opportunity never circling again. I’m gonna pray my emptiness dissolve, replacing it with love as the concrete my heart shall express in memory of you.

I love you grandma.

Always,

– C.A. Thomas

Change Of Address

Home is where I feel at peace, feeling safe with laughter bouncing from wall to wall in a room where nothing matters. Seconds pass, minutes calculated of fun overtaken with joyous memories. Sadness draws in, rethinking wrong turns and regretful choices, witnessing pain as it takes its toll on the very being who embodies love beyond imagination. Tears no longer controlled, anger birthing questions due to lack of understanding till the day “change of address” occurs. No form needed, no explanation necessary for the homegoing solidifying pain at rest. My home is with you, where the fun times are forever compensated with happiness.

This is my “Change Of Address”

– C.A. Thomas 

What Happens Now???

My grandmother now laid to rest, pondering thoughts surround me. What happens now? Does the darkened clouds lighten for a sun to beam through? Does the wind blow strong enough for a sail to carry a tiny boat to the distant sea? Even I cannot answer these trivial riddles. The environment I now reside in feels different, a more peaceful setting but a presence missed entirely. A missed aroma I’ll never smell again for as long as I live on this earth. I’m feeling a bit empty right now but I’ll be fine. I have more than enough projects to occupy my time sparingly, enough to think of you along the way. I only desire in making you proud of me. 

Rest on as I continue earning my place in this world. 

– C.A. Thomas