I still fight;
yet I still cry at night.

I still sing a lullaby;
yet I still want to die.

I still bleed some ink;
'cause I still overthink.

I still feel like an elf;
for I still doubt myself.

I still am pale;
for I still can fail.

I still cause heartaches;
for I still make mistakes.

I still enjoy this tone;
but I still feel alone.

I still fill my bed with squares;
'cause I still have nightmares.

I still swim through rhymes;
yet I still drown sometimes.

I still want to hold you, dear;
because, honey, I still fear.

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.

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 am a friend of yours
if tears need to be dried
you need hugs or a ride
when you feel alone
and you need to be home
every time you want to smile
want to walk someone a mile
if you need a diary
or simply wants to be happy
every time you need support
and when you need comfort
whenever you need someone
I'll do my best to be that one
just tell me
because I am your friend
and I will always be your friend

oh, talking to myself again
am I thinking out loud?
pardon.

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.

The same old song,
Entangled on a phonograph;
Playing all day long
Even when the notes seem rough.

I am asking the moon once more
If she saw the balloons I freed.
The balloons I used to enamor
Are now nothing but words to bleed.

I yearn to see the same old colors
Until I realized I closed the door.
I need not another Trojan horse,
But a way to heal my core.

In hopes of taming the pain,
Fatigue starts to creep in.
Kindly fetch me another train;
Let a new day begin.

he is bored, he's tired, he is weary
he feels numb everyday, really
faces walk and go through
yet he meets smiles from a view
he's curious, he is fearful
for he is deep, not beautiful
he yearns to talk with a voice of new
but shy he is, for a word or two
and a voice was heard that was not his
a greeting, a word, a song full of bliss
for a note of letters danced in his ears
and these letters made him smile in tears
a word was followed by a vast anxiety
he's curious, afraid but speaks freely
yet he still thinks this might be the answer
accompanied may him be forever
interested they were and they thirst a talk
happens next, they took a walk
Time swims and dives faster than waves
knowing not that they have lived many days
an ocean feels not alone
he gets used to it, no longer a stone
a bond was felt between the two
a bond that is stronger than his blue
as night rises for the fallen sun,
he utters words on his own:
"a second with her is better
than years with me alone"
but time drowns and stops swimming
he felt the earth will have its ending
the girl needs to be home and sow
and yet it pains, but he let her go
he misses her so much, that the blues turn black
and he always desire her to come back
for a part of him was taken as she left
and a part of him stays, never forgets
now his blues grow within him
he might not ever see her again
he is alone,
nonsense, like a stone
he waits for her not
but for the sun to take a nap
for when everyone's in bed
he can live inside his head
and then he goes, he is bored and tired
he's weary, alone, he needs to be fired
numbness everyday is hard yet better
better than the days lurking in winter
he keeps alone, without any other
abandoned may him be forever

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

I couldn't write a poem.
I couldn't make an art.
Those things I once enjoyed doing
have faded and become nothing.
Just like when a pen falls...
it starts to lose its ink.
-

He suffered a lot
more than they could see,
and thought that eating could help.
He ate too much,
his weight grew much;
he regretted it.

He’s been hurt a lot
more than they would know,
and thought that sleeping could help.
He couldn’t sleep,
he couldn’t rest;
he missed it.

He’s been damaged a lot
more than they could imagine,
and thought that writing could help.
He grabbed the quill,
he knew he was ill;
he hated it.

He’s been abused a lot
more than they could understand,
and thought that dying would help.
He took his life,
he found the light;
he desired for it.

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.

If you think I refer to the view that we all know
an abstract that dreams blue, red, orange, and yellow
well, that can be seen as we channel in the night
as we glimpse the last pouring of daylight.

I love stories; I read them, I feel them
and more than that, I understand them
you share what you love
so I'll share one

This is not a story, quite a poem,
quite literature, but one thing I know
this is the truth, the whole truth
nothing but the truth, my truth

this is boring, boredom
won't force you to read
but if you find it interesting,
I'll do my best to proceed

stories aim to share and to tell
tell anything, share a thing
everything, every feeling
something about nothing

But the rule is simple:
read, learn, and move on
for the story does end
stories aren't permanent

I hate how I find myself at the ending
realizing things, and gazing at the beginning
looking back at the past, just looking back
for the past is done, you are not, but you are about

For a fool like me who believes in eternity
that things will last forever, even eternally
It hurts to know that all will end
even more to know that it cannot be bent

you can't do anything
better to know nothing
I became a taste of bitterness
I hate it, but it is it

Endings are void
once you reached it, you'll be lost
you'll know you're there
when you find yourself nowhere

and yet, I lost you here

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.

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.

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.

the person you sang with
with rhythm of ups and downs
and him you have been with
when your face's frowned

he never gets tired
just to draw you a smile
anything for you
even crawl for a mile

I may not make you love me
I may not call you "mine"
but the ability I have
is to make you smile

beg for love
beg for care
beg for something
that won't ever be there

beg for attention
beg for some ears
beg for something
that won't help with your tears

beg for assurance
beg for permanence
beg for something
that causes emotional violence

beg them to stay
beg for a friend
beg for someone
who will leave you in the end

I was reading a book
I was Indulging the smell of its old pages
my imagination was ignited
as I ate every mere word it has
my eyes were healed
my mind was quenched
I was not me when I was walking the journey
and it’s a story that I hoped would never end
its covers conceal fragility
and the book sheltered me from reality
I was focused
I was bound to the book

lots of things had happened
and I was unaware
it was already afternoon
the flowers poured the summer’s snow
fogs devoured the pearls of the ocean
trees have lost all of its leaves
the bookshelf fell and got broken
my coffee became cold
and many more had happened
everything happened
I did not know
I was too busy
I was reading a book
and that book was you

I have this huge hole within me
a part of me is missing
I couldn't help myself
couldn't be helped by somebody
'cause all I'm good at is breaking

I keep on making mistakes
I keep on being a mess
Even if a thousand times my soul breaks
I just keep drowning in darkness

I push everyone away
away from me, away from pain
because that's the only way
for them to move a mountain

I couldn't do anything, but get things worse
I keep them all in my purse
because I am just a black hole
nothing but a black hole

And then the weather changed;
from a hot, burning yesterday
to a cold, freezing today.
At least it changed,
while here I am, my feelings have estranged.
I couldn’t find happiness for me to play
nor could I find sadness to pray.
None of these have exchanged,
they all went missing.
If you could find my emotions,
I am willing to give you a cent.
This emptiness is overwhelming,
Please go travel the nations.
I want something different.

pain is with him
they never drifted apart
not even once
the sun knows the truth
and so does the moon
yet everyone knows not
because every time he bleeds
all he bleeds is ink

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

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.

I am not very certain
if being alone makes one strong.
Because if it is,
then I'd rather be weak.
You've always wanted me to be strong,
to be better, to be cold, to be a stone;
yet all I've ever wanted is for you to stay.
Would you consider me weak?
I care not--
even Adam needed an Eve.
Maybe I am not afraid to be alone;
I'm just afraid that you'd leave.

If I distance myself a bit,
it's your understanding that I'd want to meet.

If my silence reaches the moon,
honey, don't worry, I'll laugh soon.

If I changed for a while,
I promise I won't change my smile.

If pain makes me grieve,
please do not leave.

If at times I fail,
sing to me, like a nightingale.

If I become cold,
please do not loosen your hold.

If my demons strike again,
it's time for you to save me once again.

If you think that my love is fading,
no, honey, I'm still fighting.

If I am nowhere to be found,
I'm standing stranded on the same ground.

If I die tonight, dear,
please do not shed a tear.

Don’t cry
Do not water the flowers
I will just hit the sack
and I will never go back
Thy smile shall be ever left unseen
But kept with me,
Are the memories that we have been
Bless me with peace as I rest
For I never felt it in my quest
Sorry that this has to end
Close the door and let me ascend
My friend,
Let the flowers bend

Don’t cry
Do not rage a storm
For I’ll be taking steps alone
Go yell for the sun’s perfect tone
I will leave
Please don’t grieve
I’ll bring with me the scars you gave
Please just lend me one last wave
Burn all of my past
Leave them all with a blast
Please make my path easier
Just allow the storm to falter

Don’t cry
Do not flood the whole world
You may now remove your mask
And throw your lies in the dusk
I know you wanted this to happen
I know you wanted me to go
Do not ever regret
As you must never forget
You knew I couldn’t swim
Part the flood into a stream
And for the very last time
Save those droplets of dime
Don’t cry, don’t cry.

Pain makes people wage a storm.
Most would release the beast in any form
without hesitation, without fear;
without minding the damage,
they wouldn't even mind the effect they manage.

As they release their storm,
they thought they could also release their pain;
but little do they know,
that they actually pass on the pain.
Instead of having it ended,
it continues to grow;
resurrecting, from one to another soul.

But mine is different--pain makes me silent.
There's this huge hole within my soul
which I couldn't even detect.
There's this heavy atmosphere
that prevents me from breathing.
I would like to wage a storm, but I couldn't.
I would like to release my pain, but I couldn't.
All that I could do is feel it.
Endure it.
Suffer from it.

Silence is all that I could offer the world;
not a storm, not a beast, or anything
that would cause some damage to others,
but silence that only brings damage to myself.

At least I wouldn't be able to hurt others;
the pain would just end within me.
Or so I thought it would end.

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.

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.

Hi
I want you to know
That I miss you so much
I miss you, us, the moments
We’ve shared
Everything
I miss doing things
With someone I trust
Someone with whom
I am comfortable with
I just miss you so much
And I'm tired
I am tired of missing you
I’m on my bed both
day and night
Yet my mind is tired
of overthinking
I’m tired of drowning
To the past
Where you were there
With me
or is it how
I wish It could be
I’m tired of pretending that
I’m happy
Yet deep inside it kills me
I’m tired of accepting things
But I know it’s the only
medicine that I have to take
I’m tired
Yet I want you to know
When you come home
No matter how far
I was here
Waiting
Drowning
Dying

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.