if loving you is a sin, then send me straight to hell

their love was a burning matchstick
they tried to hold on to
the sight of the fiery inferno
engulfing the wood was a beauty
both of them saw for the first time

when the flame started to get closer
closer to getting their fingers burnt
one of them wanted to let go;
while the other? i'm afraid, no

he was too curious, you see
he wanted to know what the flame felt like
wanted to feel what burning love was

but he was also too selfish to see that,
while he may be ready to feel
the burning sensation at his fingertips;
she was afraid of getting hers blazed

because, she too, was curious;
too curious, that she forgot
why she even held on to the matchstick
as they ignited the flame;
when she was still holding on to flashlights
that made her feel safe
guiding her through the darkness of life
without the fear of getting burned by the light

as for him?
he tried hold on to the matchstick
as long as he could take the flame
waiting for the time
she would hold the match once more

or maybe, someone else
who was not afraid to get burned

everyday i am reminded of the many reasons why i love you

yet, everyday i am struggling to find an answer to the question- why did i even do you wrong?

still, i'd love you no matter what

i keep dreading the night because i always wonder how long it will take me to shake off every thought of you- that's how long it usually takes before i can fall asleep

i'm sorry if i always seem too eager to see you
or if i always seem too happy to be near you
or if i always present myself to do things for you

it's just that now that i am no longer what i used to be to you
i never want to waste what could be the last moment i'd share with you,
before i'd completely be just another person you once knew

but even before and after then,
i still want you to feel that i love you, and i'd still do anything for you-
because i do.

~

maybe i was bound

          to break your heart

                  so i would know how it felt

                                     to have mine broken

                   because as it turns out

          breaking yours

broke mine too

~

don't get me wrong,
i'm really happy that i get to talk to you.
but this sadness, is just so overwhelming;
i feel that just talking is barely enough
to ease the aches and pain of missing you

i want to see you

if you are looking for a way for me to give up and hate you, i am sorry to disappoint you,
but i am already blinded by the many reasons to love you

seeing you was like coming home from a long day of work

but in my case it's coming home from a whole semester's worth

remember when you said
"i may not promise you anything, but i want you to believe"?

because i do.

and right now,
i may not be promising, but i want you to believe.

you were a candle;
i was a matchstick

from the start we knew
we're not fit for each other;
doomed to hurt one another

still, we tried to make it work,
despite all the consequences

what were we to do?
we loved one another

i burned myself to give you fire,
to ignite a spark in you;
giving you the blazing passion
to go after what you sought out to be

the scorching heat that burns me,
was nothing compared to the raging
bliss i felt by giving you warmth;
and seeing you light up brighter
more than what you thought you could

soon, the embers melted
every inch of your original self

yet it was fine,
you were a candle after all
a candle who can be molded back
in new ways, shape, and form

but i was only a matchstick
that burns out quick

still, it was fine
because i know for a fact,
if i could do it for eternity
i'd always set myself ablaze
if it means giving you
the light, the warmth, and the fire
to help you serve your purpose

and little did we know,
you helped me serve mine

because some people are like candles,
capable of setting things on fire;
incapable of starting one of their own,
they need something to light up the spark

then, the're some people who are match sticks,
who can start a fire on their own
and give that spark that candles need;
but burn themselves during the process

yet, isn't a matchstick made
to start a fire?

every time that i dream of you
inside, i never wanted to wake up
because it was always the only time
that i get to see, hold, and feel you

but still, i choose to do so
because i still have to face each morning
waiting and praying for the real you

he always had a lot to say
babble on for hours

but maybe, it's because
he was always longing for
someone to talk to

so, when given the chance
he would not make waste of it
and would use the opportunity
as if it was his last, always

it's half past midnight
and i'm still wide awake
i can't seem to remember
how much time it takes
for me to fall into slumber
through the dead of night
without your number
waking up my phone
before we doze off
and sleep tight

it just doesn't feel right

The void keeps pulling me towards its center
with hands tied together, I can't seem to remember
the last time I held yours.
It seems as though forever has passed me by.

No, I take it back
I feel as though it had been an eternity,
since I last held grasp of your soul;
and talked to the billions of pieces
that make it up.

Tiny bits of your identity
that I once had known, but now?

I don't seem to know whether most of your pieces
are still part of you, or has your soul
been shattered too much, that more
pieces have shown themselves
and made their presence
to make up the very essence, of you.

All I know is that every piece that you are made of,
is like a piece of a puzzle, perfectly fitted
with each other, and together
they make you a beautiful masterpiece
that no one can ever pull apart.

"Why do you stay,
                 if they won't for you?"

"No one ever stayed for me,
                 and maybe at some point,
                                    no one stayed for them.
                                                    And maybe if i do,
                                                             ­   they'll change their mind"