If tears could speak, they'd have a lot to say.

I dove into a sea
of screaming memories
That nobody could hear but you

I fell into an ocean
Where skin bleeds as easily
As hearts do

I crashed into the waves
built up from broken promises
And the saltwater matched my eyes

I submerged underwater
Masking the storming ocean of my own
Breathing in suffocating sighs

I floated to the surface
Holding the same promise of a buoy,
The same disillusion as a shark

When I washed up on the shore,
The sun tried to warm my hands
But bright as this world may be, I will always be dark.

It's a light feeling,
Like a fistful of tiny scribbled hearts
on the edge of your paper.

Then it grows and glistens,
Like a spark in your stomach startling
the stable butterflies into chaos.

And it gets bigger,
Like the roller coaster drop in your stomach
tinting cheeks pink upon arrival.

Yet it beats you down,
Like you're just wasting your feelings on
a gamble you weren't sure you would win, but

Still the feeling grows,
And you grow sore from the stretched heart beats pumping still,
reaching out to try beating harmonies alongside the preliminary.

Over and over we try,
The next time always hoping pink roses will darken to red,
hoping they won't crinkle into withered fallacies again.

And again and again we find ourselves
Breaking our hopeful smiles at the sight of what we want-
given to someone else.

A year has passed and you don't know.
I admit to the crime of too subtle action
almost forced to go,
never sure,
you enigmatic mystery,
I could never tell what I was meant to see.  

What you think of me is
still a question, I feel its automatic
journey is close to its end, I cannot pause,
cause it never does, not for me.

I guess we are the same but I never came to affirmation.
I end it right here, you had me for a year
and never shifted gear, next levels
never reached. Some doors breached

I'm off to bed. Could I never return please?
Tomorrow is always a disaster, so tell her today.
Today was two days ago.
I am too late.

Doubting about giving up, then she's not the one.
Giving up is for cowards, for guys like me, two days ago.
regret is a horrible state.
Please never make me experience it again, I preach.
I wish you made me feel careless and casual, then it would have worked.

But your sparkling eyes make me insecure,
your cheeky cheeks unkissed and pure,
your perfect shapes and dazzling hair,
your blinding stare, everything around me
vaguely disappears,

an empty feeling sears
through the image that I had
I was just a helpless lad, fallen down, reaching up to you.
But I did not dare to grab your hand for it was too
soft and smooth and perfect for my not so bright ideas.

Now drop me and never lend me that hand again
I will always try to grab it, immobilized by your smile.
addicted, not in love, hooked, not shared, affected and absorbed but not attracted.
attraction has 2 ways, of one I am not sure.
Abruptly looking the other way, my only cure
for how you agonize my being.


I am still thinking about not giving up, so maybe
she could still be
one
just not
the...

I cannot understand myself
why did I not say
what I wanted every single day
for us, it may, but hey, this way,
I did not have to lay
myself on the line,
a risk avoided same goes for love
nothing else to painfully think of
nothing ever broke me like
you did.

My approach was the worst in human history
from afar they'll come and hear his story
of failure and demise, for a month or two
he'll be the talk of school and then it ends.

Either end it or start it, but not this phase of inbetweeness
it's powerful and useless at the same time.

One whole year, you shaped me, reformed, refurbished,
you were my goal, unreached. I need more time, more coal
to keep this ancient bunch of chances from not living forth. To north
instead of south, your words in my mouth, my
songs sang by birds and rippling creeks,
banished and expelled from peaks,
vanished thoughts, so sure they were,
together with the derivative motions they withheld

I spelled your name a thousand times
drew it in my books next to some rhymes
made it pretty to fit your being, even
though I never succeeded to pass breakeven.