I remember clearly
the way love said my name
the way his breath felt under mine
the way love puts his hand on his back
I remember clearly
just how much I loved his plaid shirt
and his messy handwriting
and when the way his voice missed out a tune
I used to tremble down
into dandelions
every time love talked to me
with his eyes
full of unctuousness
I've known love
all my life
I know how love picks up his pencil
and how love sheds a tear
I know all of his jokes by heart
we exchanged gentle nods
that day
when I realized
love isn't mine
when I know love didn't stayed
I grazed his finger one last time
as I whispered,
"It's been a pleasure, we’ll be fine."
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 10:06 AM UTC
crowds and
paintings on the wall
each of it comes
as a background
to her prodigious story
even Vermeer can't stand out
because only her
slightest movement
catches his eye
in every
frame of existence.
she is
the best form
in a room full of art.
Jan 13, 2017
Jan 13, 2017 at 3:30 PM UTC
how could one
be so gentle
as she whispers love
so unpretentiously
so gracefully
in my ears
how could one
hold my hand
and keep me warm
when the wind was unstable
singing beautiful chorus of serenity
she took my hand
when I fall into
infinite hole of chaos
taking every teardrops
from my glistening orbs
she collected every
scattered piece of me
and put it back together
when I couldn't
she is my eyes
when I can't see past
my own stumbling block
and help me
get it through
in the end
she will always be
the one who lands
silent kisses
of composure
every time I whisper
"I love you."
Sincerely,
your daughter.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 3:57 AM UTC
how can she move on?
when a knock came on the door
and she ran to get it
expecting his face on the other side.
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 11:59 AM UTC
I can see those dandelions
and how they were dancing,
to the serene bliss of wind
whispering,
unctuous promises.
though the dandelions
were confused,
as to why
the wind did that.
I can hear the wind sighed
and blow a gentle soothe
to those dandelions.
I asked,
why would they fall
for the ingratiating wind?
oh, dear.
how ghost-quiet it tasted?
as I put the question mark
back at the wind,
and hold those flowers
to keep their hearts save.
the wind
stopped blowing at last,
leaving every petal on their own
without lies,
without anymore promises.
all I can hear now is
the beautiful chorus of content
filling up as the wind,
replacing it.
I let these dandelions
plant theirselves
and grow,
without relying
on the whispering wind.
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC
he saw you there,
standing with your head held up high
he saw you there,
holding on to your pride.
voices scratching inside of your mind telling
you weren't scared—or at least
that's what you thought.
glimmer of hope enlighten this sorrow path
path full of broken memories,
screaming in your mind
your feet are bleeding
in cause of shattered dreams
but your feet
keep on stepping,
slowly but surely.
"No one can see this path," your mind whispers as you tip-toed.
little did you know,
he saw you.
he saw your pain,
the way you drag yourself when you walk
he noticed the dim of fright in your eyes as you talk.
slowly,
slowly,
he reached out to your
waves of black and white.
"I know what you've been through," he said
"let me help you."
words blown right across your cheek,
felt like as in haven
for the first time.
you felt
safe.
but no, you can't.
that little demon in your head tells
you're a detonator—you can never lay down on someone
they might explode with you.
you just shook your head and say,
"Don't. I don't want you to bleed like I did."
the same time as this detonator
explodes into spectrum of misadventures,
already choking on its pride.
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 11:15 AM UTC