She was poetry
Nobody ever read

"Don't cry, I don't deserve it"

He
doesn't
write
about
her
anymore

I lost most
but found myself

I came home,
you were gone.

She
wrote
letters

He
never
*r e a d

You're
the reason

I fear
*death

you
promised
"forever"
it ended
today

She got tired
of acting
**strong

I am not
just your
routine

I wanna escape
But I *can't

Cause of death*: 
Lack of You

the
sky's
crying
**so
am
I

I
don't
want
us
to
end

Funny,
fooling
myself
"we"
actually
existed

See, I told you
*Nothing mattered

5:05pm
the sky is confused
the clouds are a blend
of orange and red
yellow and violets
what a moody creation


8:17pm
the sky can no longer hold it, i guess
lightning strikes everywhere
and thunder trembles here and there
the sky is crying


12:38mn*
the sky is calm
but it looks heavy
like the calm after a tantrum
and there are no stars
the sky is sad

too much of it means you're not living
too little, and it means the same thing

I wanted to shield you from every heartache this world would make you feel
Yet once I let you shatter after my eyes; to this day you can't be healed

A lot of people told me
When you passed away
That I may have lost one good soul
But the sky gained another angel

I promised you before you took your last breath, I will look for you
I will make you fall in love with me again, whatever it takes
I will not get tired

But I am getting tired,

"How high do I  have to be before I can say I already am in the sky?"
"How far do I have to reach before I can say that I am already touching a cloud and not just mere water and air?"
"How high is the sky?"
"How far do I have to fly before I meet you again?"


*And as I take my last breath, I knew, the sky is not too far

Funny
I guess this heart
is a parking lot

Sometimes full,
often empty

I like fireworks
But I love the ones
You make me feel

I am tired
of both wanting to stop
and of wanting for more

And here we are,
surrounded by too many poems;
already too familiar
with what it's like to be a poet
that had his heart broken...

tell me,
I wanna know..
*what it's like to be a poet who has already been healed?

***** to stay sad
when people
expect you to be merry

This day
and the coming days
Gotta fake it

no matter how odd
or how old
your taste in music is

there will always be someone
who knows the lyrics
to the songs you sing

and when you find her
or when he finds you

*sing along
and play that music
on
and on
and on

You are the star I always take a look at every night, I think I get to know you better everyday

But I am wrong

You are the same star that died a long time ago, the same star that may not even know me, the same star too far away to even notice

*And even if you weren't dead; I will be that one thing that would **** to embrace you, and you were the star that would **** me if I attempt to.

I am the earth; in hopes of knowing you better, I had to lock you in
& You are the moon, who let yourself be tidally locked so you can keep a part of yourself hidden

And even if it takes
Four billion of my years
I will keep on hoping
That maybe one day
Gravity will let me win,
And you will stop rotating
as you orbit around the earth;
That after all the waiting
I will see the part
*you've been hiding

They say we die a thousand times before our hearts stop beating
I agree

One is the sigh of a person giving up on you
Another is the grasp of a loved one fading away
When you walk away and no one calls your name
You die again when you hear the goodbye of a person
you thought would stay
You die the minute you realized you wasted your life
on someone or something that isn't even going to happen
When someone you thought cares forgets your birthday,
You die a little bit but live on anyway
You die when someone you knew so well becomes a stranger
& when someone you love doesn't even bother to know you
You die when you feel you're never good enough
You die again when there's no hope
after all that's said and all that's done
You die every time someone leaves
and when someone dies, you die with them

You die a thousand times before your heart stops
And even after that, when one by one people start to forget you,
**you die again

After all the poems she read about love, and all the poems she wrote telling people about what they deserve; she was still defeated.
She still lost, as we all had.

Because the love we deserve may not deserve us, *but it will still have us regardless.

I've been scribbling words about you, I haven't looked at the clock til now - it's 17 minutes past 7. I may be late for work.

I have written several nonsense letters, wondering if I already wasted more ink than I should, thinking how many of these words have you already heard, and doubting if they would mean something more once you read them.

These words, these are the things I want you to know but would never tell you.

But these words, they don't really matter, do they? These words can't make you stay, or flinch even.

Because the things you told me that matter, they didn't. And even if they did, we won't do anything about it.

These letters, they would remain unsent.

I don't know
if you sleep soundly at night
but in case you don't
hear me out


I only think of one thing
when I can't fall asleep

Make a guess











I hope you think of me,*too.

why do i keep doing this
to become and unbecome
at the same time

i want to change
yet i want to be the same
i want to go
yet i want to stay
i keep telling myself to do it
but i always find reasons not to
i keep pushing myself to let go
but i find reasons to hold on


i want to be me
but i don't know who i am
i want to change the world
but i'm the one who needs saving


**here i am screaming
without letting myself be heard

And now
if they ask me
if I am yours
I still say
Yes

As for you
I still hold you
not in my life
**but in my heart

People say,
"If you won't love yourself,
no one will."

But
most of us
fall in love with the
broken ones

the hard thing is not about deciding whether to leave or to stay; it's having the guts to leave without knowing where to go next.

The halo lifts,
the wings crumble,
the angel leaves,
runs, and never stumble.

She cannot save you.

so this is how it feels
missing two people
at the same time

you

and

myself

That thing that keeps you warm
makes you easier to burn

And that thing that makes you cold
makes it easier for you to breathe