dearest stranger
is a stupid endearment i have for you
cause how could you be ‘dear’
when I don’t fully know you
And it’s okay that
your messages are so out of the blue
First one, on a Wednesday
Up to wondering if
I’ll get one today
And the next, two weeks
you’ll disappear like no traces
but yet I’m reignited
when i see the bubble
containing your
unregistered number
no designation
yet i know that its you fully
ingrained in my head
trying to catch the rush
that i felt when you’re with me
as if going back
to the night you gave me
a little bit of attention-
And I thought it would
complete me.
dearest stranger
Oh how im helpless
on your lips taking away
the courage to delete
Your unregistered number
Sep 9, 2023
Sep 9, 2023 at 2:26 PM UTC
remember i brought it up
and you told me i
was
paranoid.
Apr 4, 2022
Apr 4, 2022 at 10:30 PM UTC
i trusted you.
i gave my body to you, a permission
to wreck this body, as long as you give me
a chance to recover.
i wanted this, i wanted to feel you,
inside me, in this fleeting sense
that we are one.
and there it was, my trust,
went away as you take the barrier
the symbol of our agreement
and as you ****** inside me
i felt the warm sensation
of the consequences
that i'm about to face.
and then followed your words,
assuring me, but
i was foolish enough to be happy
with the pleasure
i brought you
and i realized
i was stupid enough
to trust you
and to put the weight
of the permissibility
on a thin veil
that protects me,
from you.
i was stupid.
my body told me, months later.
and there you were,
gone, away
with my trust, and my permission
i wish that, you'd stop
with
my stupidity
but i know you wont.
cause hurt people
hurt people.
Oct 18, 2021
Oct 18, 2021 at 9:23 AM UTC
hello there, a
you probably have gotten what you want from me;
my flesh, the gore that you seek
hidden within me, in this concept that
you feel so satisfied with,
getting what's arbitrary
hello there, a
remember, when you used to tell me
that the perception of 'being enough'
lies on the lips of everyone else but me,
especially you?
I guess so.
hello there, a
you probably had the time of your life
from your driven authority
on me, on how I act,
as if I depend on you
to breathe.
probably, the past is past.
but I want your apology.
maybe your apology
would stop me from shaking
every time a good person, a genuine one,
wants my body
for good reasons.
maybe your apology,
would help me sleep at night
and would offer me rest
from running away from
the nightmares you have caused.
maybe your apology,
would stop these thoughts,
that hinders me from
building myself
back up from the
scattered pieces, big, visible enough
to be reassembled, back
to the old me.
i need it; your apology
maybe it would help me heal
maybe it would help me forget
maybe it would
fill the gap,
the void
that you caused.
please, a
I am desperate.
I need to sleep.
I need to breathe.
to trust my body, and somebody.
and maybe, just maybe
your apology,
is enough.
even though, it will never be.
Oct 18, 2021
Oct 18, 2021 at 9:08 AM UTC
I like to see myself in a blur
a photograph, trying to get my motion
without stillness in consideration
with details scattered
within the grid of capture
like a speckle of stars
each without correlation.
A blur, you see-
for I am as elusive as my thoughts
indecisive, un-unabridged,
a true reflection of me
luminous, grainy
incomplete.
Yet the murkiness excites me.
for I yearn to chase the
memoirs, fleeting yet
effervescent.
like euphoria, on paper
even though it only last
seconds.
I like to see myself in a blur
Cause to feel the pang
of describing my faces
there, on the canvas
I'd like to think I was, happy.
Cause I only see it in a blur.
Dec 25, 2020
Dec 25, 2020 at 12:16 PM UTC
a PowerPoint presentation
woke me up, as i input the wrong
numbers that produced a chain reaction
of wrong combination; unacceptable
unhappy
across the room, your voice echoed
as you mentioned five-hundred discrepancies
I have yet to fill
five-hundred mistakes
I have yet to correct
unhappy
five-hundred more, I say,
cause you were wrong
five-hundred more mistakes
with four-hundred ninety-nine of them
is me existing,
and one, is for the wrong calculations
splattered across my dusty screen
unhappy
I am rich; but not in the way people perceived
I am rich, but not in the way that people would envy
As I sat here, feigning attention
I saw him; no harness, with hands displayed
as though he was gifted with the ability to fly
but his wings we’re vestigial
cause humans are made to walk; not fly
unhappy
I stared at him, ignoring the mechanical movement
of my hands, ignoring whether I’m corrected by my
muscle memory
I watched him.
Happy.
Dirt poor, with all adorning him was the flicker of light
dimly reflecting throughout, to avoid collision
I want what he had.
happy.
The freedom to fly,
even though flying means death.
happy
The freedom to choose,
to embrace the air,
breathing my last.
happy.
I could just imagine.
for my hands corrected
the mistake that makes me envy
the man with a reflector vest
unhappy.
All i knew is that
the more i press the keys onto the screen
producing what i never wanted,
I’ll always be
unhappy
unlike the man, on the top of the building
at peace, even though,
knowing that one single misstep
can cause him
to cease breathing
at nine point 8 meters
per second.
that to me
is freedom
and I'm
happy.
Sep 22, 2020
Sep 22, 2020 at 10:26 AM UTC
meeting _men_
was always that easy.
it was evident
in the way I
plan to prepare myself
to venture out
in the uncertainty of the open
trying to align
the inevitable disappointment
on my self-predicament.
the way I trace
the marks of _ugly_, visibly seen
onto my body
hoping that someone
would like the art;
the interpretation
of my
flaws and sad beauty.
_it was always easy_
to try calming the nerves
as I knock at his door, the pounding
of my heart
from excitement, fear
and self-loathing
as soon as the eyes
of the outside world cannot see
what lies
behind these walls
that covers
not only our fragile bodies,
but also, our weakened souls
till everything is a blur.
meeting men was always
that _easy._
it's the same thing
as we put back our clothes
and _maybe_,
kiss goodbye
then run away, with such bliss
from the thrill of doing
what others can do freely
amplified
by the pulsing adrenaline
panicked, weary
if anyone saw
what we have done.
-----------
_meeting him again?_
that's the hard part.
Sep 11, 2020
Sep 11, 2020 at 8:58 AM UTC
'I love you'
I can say it a million times
and not feel a thing.
Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 9:50 PM UTC
_see - cah - moh - re_
you used to say that
the wrong ones
dont matter to you, baby-
_what if im wrong?_
what if i'm not the right one
for you
_see - cah - moh - re_
you used to say that
the wrong ones
don't matter to you, darling-
but what if you are?
and _you're not the right one_
_for me?_
_sturdy, sturdy_
as the sycamore tree
is my love for you,
my darling thee
but as the roots, spreading
continuously till bedrock-
_there is end to us,_
_there is end to love._
_see - cah - moh - re_
you say that
the right ones dont matter to you now
for they have no stories
to tell
no regrets to burn
and like the sycamore tree
that you've always pronounce wrong;
till there is growth in stagnation.
_I know you're right for me._
Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 1:29 PM UTC
Our steps crackled onto the tiles of sycamore
Thudding prints lashed beneath our shoes
Merrily advancing on such pavement
Along with you.
Side by side we barely stopped
Expunging air around with nature
Our bones twitched with each other’s ligaments
While our eyes took moments.
Pacing freely with the wind
Of autumn trees blessing us with leaves
Fallen it may be, but it will be felt
Like a wedding with petals on the carpet.
I barely notice the faces as they bounce
Or the blank mask they wear at the parties
For all I see is my sun
And I will bask with him eternally.
As we were approaching towards the way
Grip within a grip, steps are on square
All it takes to be happy
With you, I realized, it was simple.
Nov 22, 2019
Nov 22, 2019 at 3:20 AM UTC