Behold! The sight
               of shifting eyes
      bouncing ‘round its fellow pair
As darkness falls
               and contact dies
      mirroring the moon’s harsh glare

Hearken, ye!
               That subtle sound…
      the dying gasps of slaughtered words
Sputtering
               as they are drowned
      by dropping pins and cricket-birds

Alas! The stench
               of stale vibes
      the sweaty feel a handshake leaves
The aftertaste
               your mouth imbibes
      of musty webs that Silence weaves

I'm calling her name,
even though I've run out of things to say.
But because the clock is ticking,
I do not want this conversation to end.

If my words bear insignificance,
then I shall in patient silence, listen.
But I may never relive, re-love;
So tonight, let not her voice fade.

Droppin' on in,
It's been a minute since we've talked,
Your hair has grown,
Your face has faded,
It used to be brighter
If memory serves.
Have you been well?
New job? New love?
Only if you don't mind.
Have you heard that new song?
Have you seen that movie?
How's that startup idea gone?
Where has all the time gone?
We should talk again sometime.
Or not,
Whichever you prefer.

Small talks are refreshing,
Intellectual talks are mind stimulating
and deep talks are soul enriching.

“If you want to talk about it, I am here for you. Just like old times or new times, I don’t know. But I am here for you.” Cancerous words he spilled onto the screen, for they just multiplied the happiness that now sparked within her. Brewing hope and burning her eyes with emotions that flowed her eyes, leaving her mind fuzzy with joy. They finally opened their hearts to one another; a raw, vulnerable, authentic conversation after years. It was a conversation where she was drowned in the most beautiful-devastating of ways. A conversation she never wanted to end for the words seemed infinite and emotions seemed everlasting. She held onto this moment as perfect as it was as her eyes slid go sleep.

“You know what hurts? The fact that you don’t want me the same way I want you. You don’t mind talking to me, but you don’t have the urge and want to talk to me anymore. You don’t mind having a conversation if I message, but you will never want to message. What hurts is that I can see it happening, subtly and gradually. I can see you losing interest in me. I can see those eyes wandering in search of someone else when once they were focused on me. I can feel the distance, I can see you fading.”

- Excerpt from an open letter

“I don’t understand how you could love someone whom you’ve just met. I mean, I’ve never understood how that happens…”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right person to fall immediately in love with yet.”

“That’s the thing, love just comes…you don’t really find it.”

“Love doesn’t come when you don’t find it.”

“I know it does because I’ve experienced it. You don’t “find” love, it finds you. Love is something that’s developed, not felt immediately…”

“You have a point. But if so, how come I’ve loved you the moment I’ve laid my eyes on you?”

“Well…then I’m afraid that’s not love, my dear.”

“Don’t you feel the same?”

No. Maybe, I do. Maybe, I will.

You say you dont know who you are
You rearing to leave us a scar
I still dont understand the way
You sulk through life each day
Not that im one to pass
But im getting quite crass
With the way you say
Nothing is better today

the light in people’s eyes
who have dealt with loneliness
glows brighter than others
because they have had to find
conversations within looking
up at the moon