In the midst of war
between her heart and her mind,
"Enough," she finally said.
so she kept her heart, somewhere unreachable
but enough to get a sunlight
enough to be watered daily
enough to make it alive.
and when the flowers from it grew already,
the leaves were more alive than before
she finally wear it in her sleeve.
and to her surprise,
her heart still echoed the same name.
her heart grew with a space
for someone she haven't talked for a while;
only to find it more peaceful this time.
"i bet this is how letting go feels like," she uttered.
May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 8:48 AM UTC
Some days
You talk to me about how was your day
Some days
You share your deepest secrets
Some days
I feel so entitled that I want to demand more from you
Some days
I don't want anybody to know you like I do
But some days
We don't talk at all
Some days
I feel like an option
Some days
I feel like we're strangers
Then there are some days
I like to pretend you're all mine
And some days
You pretend like I'm all yours
Little did you know,
Most of my days
I often ask myself,
"What are we?"
May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 8:11 AM UTC
One of the greatest pleasures
In life is
to be given a freedom
To choose
What you want in life
But it only becomes painful
When you have to choose
To accept the pain
Of choosing your own happiness
Over
the person you love.
May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 7:26 AM UTC
Go where your heart takes you, I said.
Without any hesitant,
I stared at your footsteps walking away from me.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 12:33 PM UTC
too dark and an empty room
only a clock ticking and beat of a heart can be heard
thoughts were too messed
she never felt so lonely like this.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 12:17 PM UTC
Maybe some odds tell us
Even in our deepest desires
Even if we truly love them,
We know they deserve better.
But in our deepest sorrow and loneliness,
Somehow
We always want to be their 'better'
Despite of knowing that we can't be.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 10:03 AM UTC
He likes prose, while she loves poetry.
He loves short stories, while she loves novel.
He's a composer, while she's a writer.
He plays intruments, while she doesn't.
She loves music, but not as much as he does.
And it's just that--
Almost the same, but somehow different.
But at the end of the day, it only says one thing:
One cannot fit in a world telling him to do otherwise.
And he'd to accept the painful reality of how things aren't always meant for each other.
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 5:07 PM UTC
Busy streets and busy people;
Her thoughts recall only one name.
“I wish you were here –” she said.
So she grabbed her earphones
And played their song;
With a little hope that he had the same thoughts, too.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 8:30 AM UTC
She was like moon,
Existed everyday and watched people passed her by;
Her beauty was breathtaking,
Yet people only notice her during eclipse;
When all she really wanted is to be accepted,
For being simple yet stunning–
Just the way she is.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 9:41 AM UTC
Remember the nights –
We sat outside and gazed at the sky;
We wrote our names into constellations,
Shared our dreams and promises
And swore them to the stars.
There’ll be something in the night sky
That I’ll be forever fascinated by it,
And those times always happen
when I’m with you.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 4:26 AM UTC