I can’t always be warm.

Sometimes I’m a cold cemetery
That only welcomes bones,
Broken hearts, tragedies,
Lips that haven’t talked for days,
And souls controlled by parasitic grief.

Other times I’m a battlefield
That has seen chaos,
Rage, bloodshed, and death.
I’ve witnessed aftermaths
And how soldiers become winged.

At times I tried to be a home
That promotes rest, growth, and warmth,
But I guess I’m just an empty place —
Ordinary, plain,
Replaceable.

Raindrops kissing my eyebrows,
I regretted leaving the house.
I looked around and saw strangers
With huge weight on their shoulders.

Empty stomachs falling in line
With minds barely stable,
Was it a new adventure to define
Or just another day to feel small?

Arm wrestling with time,
We’re all heading somewhere —
Finding words that rhyme
Or just a breath of fresh air.

And when the sun slowly decays,
All we need is a resting space.

But as the streets grew darker,
I could only write a poem,
For I am a worn-out wanderer
Who missed the last train home.

Moonlit debris falling like snow
From the once-towering houses,
The boiling ground will make you tiptoe
As the city’s about to turn into ashes.

The sounds of shrieks and fading screams
Will be much louder than faith and hope.
You can only trust your remaining limbs,
For there will be no time to cope.

Behind the stench of burnt trees
Is a growing desire for rain —
Just to remember where your heart is,
Just to keep yourself sane.

But it’s too late now.

You will need more than water,
You’ll need more than seers —
‘Cause I set the world on fire
With these flammable tears.

A cup of coffee after another —
I tried hiding behind a memory,
Only to be caught by the thought
Of losing you.

But above, an aerial war zone,
Whose fragments fall down
Like soldiers returning home,
Becomes louder than fear.

Loud flashes of light never stopped
Nor did they bother me at all.
In fact, I would keep one in a jar,
But I already have thousands within.

You’d say I must be mad
For wanting the city to drown,
But a song can’t save me now,
So I’ll just listen to the rain.

Aren’t you bothered by those children
Calling out for the Grim Reaper?

Have you come across the ******* dog
Feasting on the remains of your will to live?

Can’t you see those bloated butterflies
Feeding on your recurring thoughts?

Look at those unburied skeletons
Of the dreams we had to break.

Have you seen how lost souls
Wander with their unreliable feet?

Have you heard the wailing
Of the monster you have become?

Do you still shelter the parasite
That breathes through your pain?

Have you witnessed how a heart
Becomes so used to tragedies?

Listen to the echoing lullaby
Of a dwindling spark of hope.

Have your eyes met the past
Of both the loud and the silent walls?

Doesn’t a single unshared scar
Keep you up all night?

Have you retrieved your mind
That constantly dwells in the future?

Have you forgotten the false hope
We used to distract ourselves with?

Do you still smell the silhouettes of trauma
Lingering in your daydreams?

While most nightmares awaken the asleep,
These ones make us want to sleep more.

In this chaotic world of uncertainty,
I long to be scared with you.

A starless night with a pale lonely moon—
I hope you’re seeing the same view.
Uncertain it is if we’ll meet again soon,
But I surely have missed your usual hue.

We were once strangers to one another
Until we dove in each other’s water.
It was when we learned more than names
That we have fanned the vibrant flames.

All the winters and autumns we’ve outgrown,
The burning cities that never turned to ashes,
And the handful of stars we used to own—
Are now nothing but the past’s slithering leeches.

Our memories have piled up to the skies;
Should I feed them to the butterflies?
They play on repeat inside my head
Like vultures orbiting around the dead.

Now that you’re from a hundred miles,
I’m starting to feel the need to pray.
I wish for nothing but your reassuring smiles
Because they are just enough for me to stay.

With this growing distance,
I wish I could hug you somehow.
Now tell me, this instance,
How can I forget about you now?

I often think that I have a curse
That always gives me a pair of wrung hands.
Because whenever the sun falters,
My mind starts to roam around foreign lands.

Just when the moon decides to appear
And gently reveals its current phase,
The usual thoughts would be somewhere near—
Preparing to have me locked in a familiar haze.

As the worn out city goes to bed,
Raging storms roar inside my head.
Internal monologues become so much louder,
And all that I could ever do is to suffer.

Beneath the sinking star
Is a massive quicksand from afar
That leads the wanderer into the deep,
Yet all that he wants is to fall asleep.

Remember how the moon
And the sun's shadow play
Makes every second dreamy?

Distant eyes gaze upward in total awe,
A handful of storms die inside for a while,
Minutes of illusion grow effective,
Knives of hope are gently stabbed, and
In silence we become more fluent.

Though together may not be ever,
Always it feels like an eclipse.

I taught myself to cry without a sound,
Only to have my tears be smelled
By the ******* hound.

I hug strangers as tight as I can offer,
Only to be hugged back even tighter.
And you did just that.

Breakfasts shared with broken dreams,
A diurnal storm of olden debris,
Series of flaws, and internal screams —
This life was never easy.
And there came a handful of hope.

I've decided to begin another journey —
Knowing not where my feet would take me.
And the moon knows that it is you
Who have been a reason to continue.

Nights are sometimes starless,
Even the farthest astronaut knows this.
Not always will the stars ask for a midnight snack.
And at times the moon would have to turn its back—
Keeping itself hidden behind the clouds.

A thousand fireflies do not bring heat,
Though light is what they seem to emit.

Every time the sun grows tired of burning the sky,
People would begin celebrating its forfeit.
And at times a lantern is just enough to live by—
Keeping the night warm and lit.

I've been crying underwater,
Not because of the sea salt
Or because of whoever's fault —
My eyes are just fated to whimper.

Then you came, not to stop the tears —
Underwater, you have lent your ears.
Beneath where feet refuse to stay,
In times when it's easier to be astray,
Guide me back.

Paper coffins cannot contain us.
Aren't we more than what we were?
However, though, we ignore hiatus,
I know that we are bound to falter.
Not always can the tired eyes try to hide.
Give them all the rest you can provide,
And don't ever be caught in the landslide.

One backstabbing cup of coffee
Makes summer read rotting pages of poetry.
And if spring finds the paper coffin,
Not a single skeleton will be left unseen.

I have made it through winters—
Got some waning moons on my dime.
Now with a single gem in my purse,
All that's left is for new poems to rhyme.

There's no room for another autumn.

To the faint moon and deep breaths,
Orange-sky nightmares and lucid dreams,
Piles of abysses eaten by hyacinths —
Even though dawn is never promised,
Recently, I’m not roaming the night alone.

Zeppelins, blimps, and a chopper —
Over the moonlit sky they hover.
Pleased to be not alone under the stars
Even when all we have are empty jars.
Live like we’re immortal we shall.

Just when I thought the night was long,
Eventual thoughts came like a song —
Reminding me of a potential epilogue,
One that possesses a silent dialogue.
Memory is the last thing I want you to be.

Messy handwriting,
Even messier poetry—
None meant anything;
Got only to shadowbox misery.
Guess the weather has changed now,
And it’s more bearable somehow.
Smiles begin to be put into words,
And poems start to be sung with birds.
Unwritten is my sad usual palette
Right after our paths have met.

One lone wanderer
Meets the soul of another.
Even across the...
Night streets or ancient rivers,
Great journeys start with strangers.

We are each other’s favorite
Until the universe decides for it.
Vagabonds we would always seem—
Under the influence of a daydream.

However the world would spin—
Even when the storm is from within—
‘Neath the moon’s nightly wandering,
Ever may you remember,
Rest is what you bring.

Journeys with you have been evergreen.
One in a million, you are a rare find.
May we keep our bond and everything within
Even when our stars would get misaligned.
Remember that you will always have me.

Like no other, you’re a miracle.

Be it at rock bottom or at a dead end,
All along you have been my best friend.
Let’s honor the friendship we have declared
Together with the memories we’ve shared.
And whatever path we choose to roam,
Remember that with you, I'm home.

My anxiety told me that you hated me.
It told me that I was only a burden to you
And I was only a waste of your time.
Although I hoped that it’s not true
And that my mind was just playing tricks on me,
I was convinced.

That's why no matter how much
I wanted to talk things out,
And tell you how stormy my mind was,
I decided to just remain silent—
Even though all I wanted was to scream.

I want to say "I'm sad"
In thirty-three different languages—
Whichever you prefer,
So long as you'd get what my message is.

They asked me to chase the "light" once again,
And I hope they meant "lightnings"
Because I've been wandering around outside
In hopes of getting struck by one.

In between my internal monologues
Are bottomless pits awaiting my next mistake.
And behind my play-pretends
Are quicksands awaiting my heart to ache.

I have been blaming my own reflection.

I guess you can't wish for “a happily ever after"
When you were born to be a monster.
And I guess you need not to be kind
When you are meant to be out of your mind.

Even so, send in the clowns.

Gentle rays of sunlight
Trying to pierce through the clouds,
The morning palette
Has never been this cold.

With the wind's whispers even colder
And the rain playing Russian roulette,
The city started to wonder,
"How perfect could this day ever get?"

And as a child would sing
For the rain to go away,
The storm would answer back,
"Not today."

I noticed that I only write poems
Whenever I get to lose my courage to vent,
Fail to escape from the clutch of rock bottom,
And have no one else to comfortably talk to.

And with the quicksands of changes
That I have never opted to be stuck in,
I guess I am bound to exhaust my hand
Writing poems till the end of my days.

To the pills I taught myself to swallow,
To the realities I was forced to receive,
To the innocent child I was fated to outgrow,
And to my phases that I was asked to forgive,

I am grateful.

It is through you that I have become
The monster I needed to be...
Yet we’re still each other’s prey.

Though I can still see faces in the clouds,
Hear stories only silence can utter,

Have instant regrets of waking up,
And be lost in my own labyrinth,

I am grateful.

I hit the sack way too soon
Through the words of a lullaby.

Entangled with the dream coil,
I found my feet on a foreign soil.
With buildings all gray and sky even darker,
I could not scream nor could I even mutter.
Across the street was a familiar soul—
I was certain, for our eyes met once.
Yet I remained unmoved near a wellhole,
Even though it might be the only chance.

But there must be another way,
I shall ask or go astray.
Clouds now shared the skyscrapers' clothing,
And they led me to a place I found unwelcoming:
An acre of a hundred skeletons,
Guarded by ravens and briars' thorns.
It wasn't a graveyard nor was it a market,
But simply my chained, restricted closet.

All of a sudden, I was being chased,
And went to the woods with an instant regret.
With faltering knees and a heart too dazed,
I heard words I wished I could forget:
"I'm a nightmare cloaked in human skin,
Dwelling on where the light surrenders."
Then a light pierced through my nightly coffin;
Gently, I opened my peepers.

It's not a dream that most would recap,
But it was just enough to wake me up.

I have been writing poems
As if I am forging my own armor
Yet it seems that what I have made
Is more than just a hefty covering
But layers of sky-piercing barriers
And armies of unfamiliar soldiers
With their faces reflected in mine

Yet with all these defenses
It still won't be enough

For the words I bleed fail to nourish
The wise owl I aspire to become
And the weakest of the weak
Isn't invisible behind thick walls
Nor will he ever be invulnerable
To the crippling echoes from outside
And to the storms he sewed himself

But as I am doomed to break
I will always be bound to fall as well
Down the rabbit hole of poetry

After a 12-hour slumber,
I still hope it is the lack of sleep
That makes me weep.
It is so much better
Than being sad for no reason.
So yeah...
I hope it's just the lack of sleep.

I thought I was a night owl
And sunsets would excite me
I'd wait for the sun to falter
So I could fly alone in the sleeping city

Until one time
As the sunset began parading
I suddenly felt an urge to slumber
Without waiting for the moon's consent

Don't know what doesn't want me
To stay up late at night anymore
But whatever it is
It doesn't want me
To wake up in the morning either

I might be living the tragedy
Of someone who had
A happily ever after
In an entirely different story

And I had been thinking
About rewriting it through a reset
But doing so might make me forget

For we can never tell
If we are to become ghosts
With our memories still lingering on
Or only to be memories
Of others we have left behind

Either way, I am not ready
And I will never be

Jetpacks on, flap those wings with ease,
And aim beyond the outermost layer.
Zeppelins will do, or a blimp if you please –
You and I shall come across the moon chaser.

Any sound of silence can lead us straight to her.
I know it, for she's always been a familiar song,
Rewritten over and over,
As the diurnal storms prolong.

Moonlight shines the brightest on this day,
As its chaser was born a decade and eight ago.
Right now she paves her own way,
In hopes of surpassing the lunar halo.

She came from where the wildflowers grow,
Often surrounded by the people she needed.
Like an ocean, she was never shallow,
On land, her feet are always grounded.
May she become who she wants to be,
Once she reaches the moon's gravity.
Nevertheless, let us see her fly!

Although I walk
And barely talk
My ears have never heard
Even a single word
From this dormant heart
But you are just an art
And I can't help but gaze
Walk around in a total daze
You knew dying has been my hobby
And you just turned me into a zombie

Like a small act of kindness
You make my day
Like cups of coffee
You make me wonder
Like long, tight hugs
You keep me warm
You're just enough
To boost me up

In every moment
I know what I feel
Is not permanent
But at least it's real

No one comprehends a poem
Better than a poet
It takes an artist
To fully appreciate an art
And no one can understand a child
Better than a loving mother

Our worlds cannot collide
And I don't want them to
You are to be with anyone but me
And believe me, that's how I want it to be

I adore you like the moon
Although there's a huge distance
I don't want to come close
But just sit here, stare
And forget how dark the night has been
And even the storm I'm currently in

When my smile radiates
What the sun can't bear
And when my eyes lied
About how I died inside
It would be very easy
To say that I am happy
And if you'd say so
I wouldn't want to dull that hue
But I'm glad that I could fool you

Right now I just thought
Of my fourteenth verse
And I'm starting to run out of blood
What ink must I use
So I would traverse
With quite a euphonious thud

When food doesn't comfort anymore
And if I ever lose my faith in coffee
I must be somewhere sunken
Somewhere I have been too often
Rule number one is to never worry
And if you please, just leave me be

I used to fear ghosts
Parasitic enigmas
Infesting random hosts
Cruel nightmare fuel
My fear was never undone
Until I became one

Crimson water
From honored realms
It does not drown
It overwhelms

One by one
I am losing my pieces
Yet all your pawns
Are still unmoved
Unbothered, unbent
It is always a dead end

Mirror debris
Shattering through the sky
And a dwindling beast
Begins to cower
For he knows the hue of every blue
And he has been to the pit
But what he knows not for sure
Is that he needed it

There is light at the end of a blue tunnel
But here is where calmness lies
It's tempting to reach that orb of hope
Yet I stayed in the grasp of twilight
Where butterflies are wingless
And echoes are unheard
I tried breathing underwater
Only to find out that I still can't
But know that even so,
For you, I am willing to drown

They say that love is an open door,
And if so, then I'd rather close it.
Because by the time you come back,
Even the windows will be shut.
All the doors will be closed,
Just like the wounds I once had.
Now they're nothing but scars,
And you're nothing but a stranger.
Sorry, but letting you in
Will only make me bleed.
I suggest you leave,
Because I'm already healed.

I don't have a sweet tooth for alcohol,
But I feel drunk.
My head's a galaxy,
Only it's not beautiful but messy.
I wanna believe I've finished a few bottles,
But my tongue wouldn't agree with me.
Although my heart would do so,
And it deduces that I am drunk.
The real question is, "With what?"
I guess only my brain can tell.
It was probably something beyond the calendar.
Interrogate my skin,
Or the scars beneath those layers.
Maybe they knew who did what?
Maybe they have the wine I shot?
Or is it wine --
Or just some fancy, heady memories?
Was it pain that was half full inside the glass?
Because it didn't look like *****.
But again, how can I be certain?
How can I tell?
If I feel so drunk right now.