Why’d you have to prove
That I was right all along?
Isn’t it too soon for this song
To end abruptly and mock love?
Now, I can’t finish headstrong,
I have nothing from above.
Do let me box you without glove
Or let me hate you a lifelong.
Apr 20, 2022
Apr 20, 2022 at 11:38 AM UTC
Nothing good ever happens after 2 AM.
You should have gone home,
Poured a glass of wine,
Listened to Ted Mosby
As you watched HIMYM.
You should have refused
That cup of coffee,
Exposing your heart out
In the process of enjoying
Whatever ‘that’ you have.
It’s past two in the morning,
Hug that pillow, go to bed.
Sleep now, peacefully
And rest well my heart.
Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 9:59 AM UTC
"You have the most expressive eyes," I whispered.
Sigh. I wished you heard it.
I still don't know...
Is it the way your eyes outshine the stars
whenever you gladly walk me through
on how your team won a game or two
Or is it the way you lay your soul naked
to me every time you play a song
whilst listening, to you I'll doze off so long
That I loved more about you.
I thought I'll never know...
If with the same lens I used to capture you,
we clicked for a snap second once or twice;
fragile as we are, have we developed lies?
If the stares during the exchange of wits,
bear no meaning like a card discarded
or 1/6 chance of 4 when a thrown dice landed
Will a twisted meaning seem right and wrong at the same time?
"You have the most expressive eyes," you mumbled.
"I love you too."
I cried.
Nov 8, 2019
Nov 8, 2019 at 7:08 PM UTC
"And what if I lost my sight..."
Have you ever wondered how it would feel to be blind?
Without a sense of sight, will you be left behind?
Would the people around you, to you be so kind?
"And what if you've lost sight of me..."
Do you know how the night feels without the moon?
Without the sun on a happy morning in June?
I don't wanna know the answer, it's just so soon.
Jun 19, 2019
Jun 19, 2019 at 7:20 AM UTC
I'd like to tell a story
of the worst tasting shrimp
I've eaten this eternity.
It's hard to separate the shell from its meat,
when they seem to go as one
like those words thrown in that beat.
It gets even harder to swallow,
especially with water draining
out from you in the mellow.
Jun 19, 2019
Jun 19, 2019 at 7:15 AM UTC
A night of drum beating,
maraca shaking and guitar strumming,
who would've thought
that a moment sought
could unveil thousands of possibilities.
The odds in our favor,
without cards on the table,
unstable as it is,
a hope through the night exploded
like jenga blocks stumbled.
With a much wanted polaroid,
comes the 'see you again' likelihood
but take it slow, take it slow;
enjoy the night and each other's sight,
put emotions on hold, don't let it show.
A few selfie and some jokes thrown,
we've explored the streets like its our own;
realized something have grown
yet we say goodbye --
the words we spilled like a mourn.
I can't say its inevitable but free falling unto you is just highly probable.
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 11:11 AM UTC
Meet me for sometime,
cut the chase of what ifs and hows;
maybe we'll star in a pantomime
in a world only us knows,
where two is not a prime
but will 'us' be what this encounter follows?
Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 12:32 PM UTC
At first there were two,
two just became a multiplier,
of those red fireflies
dancing to the sick beat
of zooom, broooom and wshhhh.
They flied further as I rolled forward;
left to right and right to left
they wiggled, never overlapping;
just above, below or beside the other
it created beautiful chaos.
Trapped in time of ****** stars,
accelerates as orange turns green.
Yellow trails, red fireflies
sped past through me;
everything became blur.
The pair of red fireflies flew unstoppably, and that was the last thing I saw.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 12:01 PM UTC
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
is this a drive to speak for the unspeakable,
or an urge to spill words like blood from a wound?
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
is this a trigger for a wreck that is to come,
or a spark of idea from a wicked mind I can't own?
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
I can't scratch it like a card, gambling for a prize,
nor can I treat it with alcohol, poured on rashes or drank in a rush.
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
it clouds my visionless eyes, naked or on lenses
it agitates my trembling hands, I can't smunpew.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 10:51 AM UTC
Heaven made her
every piece fragile;
little did they know
parts of her were lost.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 7:54 AM UTC