Tonight, I don't see the moon outside my window,
there's not weeping tree covered with snow,
there aren't any clouds above the sky looking like pillows,
yet I can't help but dream about some weeping willows,
those trees, that I would like to see outside my window,
as I embrace, laid on bed, my own pillow,
as I laid on bed, embracing sorrow,
wishing to see a weeping willow outside my window
covered with snow, covered, looking like a pillow
to embraced, to hug, to feel the coldness of my sorrow,

awake me from dreaming of a weeping willow.

I can't let my thoughts wandered,
my mind is a temple in ruins,
there's debris and weak foundations,
thus, if by chance,
I let them wandered,
my mind and I, could collapse

and in the process,
**** those thoughts along with me.

I'm doing what I was doing
When I stopped doing what I was doing
So doing what I was doing
Will help me do what I stopped doing

And subsequently,
I will be doing what I should have not stop doing

That is, write poetry.

I have no written my thoughts
I used to carry with myself a phone
And though, I still carry with myself a phone
I have not written my thoughts

I became busily scared
to type then share
what goes on in my head.

I used to type what came through me
With no worries, with no stress,
I only typed as my mind became blank
Then images popped and form Just like that
They appeared before my eyes
Then my heart became a brain
And the brain became my heart
My fingers suddenly listen to my soul
And I found myself typing words,
The connection of soul, heart, and mind
Something I cannot explain
But I was typing what I felt
When my mind became blank
As my heart became my brain
And as my brain became the heart
That pumped the words
to be written by my fingers
Onto my phone

And that's just what I used to write
And I became busily scared

poetry
You pull out of me Wisdom
As if I were a wisdom tooth.
And you?
the dentist who pulls me out
to become
Who I'm truly meant to be

Not another cavity in the mouth of earth that causes pain

I want to stop this madness
I wish to know the truth

Why do I feel the urge to know about us?

Why are humans such a mystery?

Is there anyone who truly understands what we are?

Why do I feel tired? Why do I feel exhausted?
I wish I knew the questions to answer my questions
I wish I knew why I feel so tired.

I just wish I knew....

I dreamt of you in white
Wearing a dress like the sun
bright
Distilling sunshine rays
Throughout the day
But at night

I dreamt of you
Like I always done
But I forgot about your face
I forgot about our conversations
And I meant to remember them

But I just can't

The dreams in which you are
Are memories I lived before
And some days it feel
As if my present days are memories
Like Dejavu
That I have lived before

I smiled and awake
Shaking my head
No

No

This is the only life I have

I have not lived before