I can’t always be warm.
Sometimes I’m a cold cemetery
That only welcomes bones,
Broken hearts, tragedies,
Lips that haven’t talked for days,
And souls controlled by parasitic grief.
Other times I’m a battlefield
That has seen chaos,
Rage, bloodshed, and death.
I’ve witnessed aftermaths
And how soldiers become winged.
At times I tried to be a home
That promotes rest, growth, and warmth,
But I guess I’m just an empty place —
Ordinary, plain,
Replaceable.
Aug 11, 2022
Aug 11, 2022 at 7:32 AM UTC
Raindrops kissing my eyebrows,
I regretted leaving the house.
I looked around and saw strangers
With huge weight on their shoulders.
Empty stomachs falling in line
With minds barely stable,
Was it a new adventure to define
Or just another day to feel small?
Arm wrestling with time,
We’re all heading somewhere —
Finding words that rhyme
Or just a breath of fresh air.
And when the sun slowly decays,
All we need is a resting space.
But as the streets grew darker,
I could only write a poem,
For I am a worn-out wanderer
Who missed the last train home.
Aug 5, 2022
Aug 5, 2022 at 10:16 AM UTC
Moonlit debris falling like snow
From the once-towering houses,
The boiling ground will make you tiptoe
As the city’s about to turn into ashes.
The sounds of shrieks and fading screams
Will be much louder than faith and hope.
You can only trust your remaining limbs,
For there will be no time to cope.
Behind the stench of burnt trees
Is a growing desire for rain —
Just to remember where your heart is,
Just to keep yourself sane.
But it’s too late now.
You will need more than water,
You’ll need more than seers —
‘Cause I set the world on fire
With these flammable tears.
Jul 28, 2022
Jul 28, 2022 at 8:52 AM UTC
A cup of coffee after another —
I tried hiding behind a memory,
Only to be caught by the thought
Of losing you.
But above, an aerial war zone,
Whose fragments fall down
Like soldiers returning home,
Becomes louder than fear.
Loud flashes of light never stopped
Nor did they bother me at all.
In fact, I would keep one in a jar,
But I already have thousands within.
You’d say I must be mad
For wanting the city to drown,
But a song can’t save me now,
So I’ll just listen to the rain.
Jul 12, 2022
Jul 12, 2022 at 1:16 AM UTC
Aren’t you bothered by those children
Calling out for the Grim Reaper?
Have you come across the big black dog
Feasting on the remains of your will to live?
Can’t you see those bloated butterflies
Feeding on your recurring thoughts?
Look at those unburied skeletons
Of the dreams we had to break.
Have you seen how lost souls
Wander with their unreliable feet?
Have you heard the wailing
Of the monster you have become?
Do you still shelter the parasite
That breathes through your pain?
Have you witnessed how a heart
Becomes so used to tragedies?
Listen to the echoing lullaby
Of a dwindling spark of hope.
Have your eyes met the past
Of both the loud and the silent walls?
Doesn’t a single unshared scar
Keep you up all night?
Have you retrieved your mind
That constantly dwells in the future?
Have you forgotten the false hope
We used to distract ourselves with?
Do you still smell the silhouettes of trauma
Lingering in your daydreams?
While most nightmares awaken the asleep,
These ones make us want to sleep more.
In this chaotic world of uncertainty,
I long to be scared with you.
May 24, 2022
May 24, 2022 at 7:56 AM UTC
Floating cotton beds
Parading against the sun
Where are they going?
Apr 10, 2022
Apr 10, 2022 at 9:26 AM UTC
Scattering shadows
Cool breeze against the window
It’s my time to live
Apr 10, 2022
Apr 10, 2022 at 9:25 AM UTC
Dark streets, darker skies
Until the lass emerges
To guide the night folk
Apr 10, 2022
Apr 10, 2022 at 9:25 AM UTC
Starlit sky above
Sending its usual goodbye
To the drowning star
Apr 10, 2022
Apr 10, 2022 at 9:24 AM UTC
A starless night with a pale lonely moon—
I hope you’re seeing the same view.
Uncertain it is if we’ll meet again soon,
But I surely have missed your usual hue.
We were once strangers to one another
Until we dove in each other’s water.
It was when we learned more than names
That we have fanned the vibrant flames.
All the winters and autumns we’ve outgrown,
The burning cities that never turned to ashes,
And the handful of stars we used to own—
Are now nothing but the past’s slithering leeches.
Our memories have piled up to the skies;
Should I feed them to the butterflies?
They play on repeat inside my head
Like vultures orbiting around the dead.
Now that you’re from a hundred miles,
I’m starting to feel the need to pray.
I wish for nothing but your reassuring smiles
Because they are just enough for me to stay.
With this growing distance,
I wish I could hug you somehow.
Now tell me, this instance,
How can I forget about you now?
Apr 2, 2022
Apr 2, 2022 at 10:31 PM UTC