i burn at the touch
of your stained hands
how dare you
in that moment
i forget how to forgive you
i forgive me just to forget you
i was enough
i am enough
i remember how i wished
your hands would be on fire
every time you touch all your lies
your hands brought them
back to life
on me
i forget how to not be a stranger in my own skin
you became a stranger in yours to forget
i was enough
i am enough
in a fleeting moment
i let myself believe
you were homesick
you knocked once
twice
thrice
and then you left
you forget how to try
you try to forget
that i was enough
i am enough
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 10:00 PM UTC
i loved you
like i've never been broken
in turn you broke me
like you've never been loved
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC
sadness is an anchor.
it anchors you to the past in which memories circle you, mock you, hurt you.
it anchors you to your bed because it feels so hard to face the day.
it anchors you to the idea of the person you thought you knew, making you wonder if anything was even real.
it anchors you to the broken world that you've built with that person; it's destroyed and you sit in the broken remains in despair.
it anchors you to the thoughts of that person, how the person is doing, if the person prefer the new person better than you, if they are doing the same things, if the person is thinking about you.
it anchors you to the fear that nothing will ever get better, that you might not be able to live because you forgot life before the person.
it anchors you to the uncertainty of the future because you've planned so much but with the inclusion of that person and now you're lost.
it anchors you to your broken dreams, surrounded by the shattered pieces.
it anchors you to the piercing words that person said, things you never imagined them capable of saying.
it anchors you to the ghost of that person.
but never forget that even the strongest anchors are lifted once the ship is ready to move. you'll be ready one day.
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 7:44 AM UTC
you knew me well enough to know
that i had a hard time
letting go of my past
and i knew you well enough to know
that you had a fear of being forgotten.
maybe that's why you decided to leave
and be part of my past;
i never could forget it,
never could forget you,
no matter how hard i tried.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 7:36 PM UTC
even the moon changes every night, and I had the nerve to believe you would never change your mind.
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 11:09 AM UTC
there is a certain form of victory in realizing that you were not the first thing on my mind when I woke up. I want to say I've moved on but I still have to say your name through gritted teeth and it still hurts every bone in my body you used to give chills upon. I guess there are traces of you everywhere and it is going to take a long time before I am clean. but I've come to the realization that the world continues to move no matter what happens, oblivious to the sound of your footsteps when you left, to the rough thud of my heart that fell to my stomach when I saw you wrapping your arms around her and to the gentle crumbling of my bones when I slid down the wall crying, battered and worn-out. the wind was strong at the beach where we left our secrets in the shells we threw back into the ocean, and we kept each other's biggest one, but the wind is also strong at the balcony of my house where I sit trying to turn my pain into something poetic and when it gusts through the windows to your bedroom when you wake up without my morning calls; I guess what I'm trying to say is that the sun is still giving way to the moon every night for the past 315 days and the wind is burning into my eyes, making me remember the way your shirt waved in the wind that day at the beach, and embedded your scent into my senses. but someday, I will be able to stand looking at the sunset, the wind carrying my laughter and the world would not be the only thing moving; I am too.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
but i wish your hands are on fire
every time you touch another one
of your lies
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC
Your eyes might have reminded him of constellations his father told him about when he was a kid but one day, someone will see the galaxies in them.
He might have loved hearing you say he’s your home but one day, someone will feel at home only in your arms, the way you never could in your own skin.
Your voice might have reminded him of the way raindrops fall on the window pane, comforting him, but one day, someone will think of your voice as the only sound that matters, the one he wants to wake up to, go to sleep to, and everything in between.
He might have played with your hair while you read but one day, someone will weave flowers into them.
Your touch might have reminded him of the warmth of his mother he still talks about everyday but one day, someone will make you feel like every touch of yours is electricity, making him feel so much emotion; the way you are thunder in his storms sometimes, the way it still shocks him other times to be lucky enough to have you, and the way you make him feel alive most times.
He might have supported you in your passion, be it in dancing, singing or writing, but one day, someone will make you feel like a masterpiece instead; you will be a dance item, a song, a poem to him.
Your laugh might have reminded him of the beauty in life, that there’s not only darkness but one day, someone will miss your laughter in between the seconds of his day, and will do anything to make sure you never lose it.
He might have adored the scent of your favourite perfume but one day, someone will adore everything about you; every flaw, every strength, every curve, every nook and cranny, every good hair day, every bad hair day, every smile, every tear, everything.
Your heartbeat might have reminded him of how it feels like to fall in love but one day, someone will make you feel that your heartbeat and his are in sync, like it’s meant to be.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
I’d like to say that I have moved on
and maybe I have
but forgetting you looks a lot like
the time you sent me home before running to catch the last bus;
I just kept looking back at you,
and right now,
I still am.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
if tears are a language
mine will drown you
just to let you know how much
i love you
if tears are a language
you'd hear a storm raging
flooding the thoughts of you
with her
if tears are a language
you'd see huge waves of them
suddenly and unexpectedly when
i miss you
because if tears are a language
you might understand me better
see, words have failed me but
i'm made out of 70% water
and so maybe just maybe
you'll finally see
the control you have
over a huge part of me
(mf)
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC