As the aliens
Watch us, they say,
“What a fickle nature,
To fall in and out of love,
Like it’s a doorway:
An impossibly liminal space.”

Dear feelings,
I'm sorry that we are often being dismissed
I'll stand guard protecting you
from the people who's slowly becoming
someone who they said they won't be
whose mouth full of sweet words
whose real tasks aren't fulfilled
Nevermind them
We'll stay constant
in the midst of fickle hearts

I know, there is no place for a fickle people like me
who painted their thorns beautifully to feel the comfort of no turning back.

And the only thing I remember is the wild wood where I tracing each constellations and searching for your footsteps.

I love you like the sun
Which is fickle and sets too soon
I love you like the pale
And everchanging moon

I love you like the ocean
And the tides that pull away
I love you like the blossoms
That don’t live to see may

I  love you like the embers
Of a flame that slowly dies
Like the sting of regret
Of a thousand muted cries.

Two lovebirds snuggle
in the shade of a weeping willow,
oblivious to chastising honks
of Canadian geese.

Blushing buds begin to bloom,
swollen with anticipation
as the solstice draws near
and blood boils beneath the skin.

Weathered voyeurs train watchful eyes
on the short-lived marriage of the flesh,
scoffing at the consummation of seasons,
knowing the fickle nature of the sun.

When the geese fly south, so will he.

your heart is an apartment building;
you the landlord
and you invited me to live there
so i made it my home

adorned the shelves with my trinkets
painted the walls your favourite colour
and ignored it when the mould began  
creeping up the walls

received my eviction notice
and as the door slammed shut behind me
a sign displayed the words
For Rent