Stop saying you love me or telling me I'm the only man you've ever loved. Stop holding my hand while standing on the edge of a cliff and whispering that you're falling for me every time you look at my eyes. Don't even tell me you can jump off the clouds and swim the vast, dark sky just to find me whenever I'm losing my own self.
Instead, write me poems, much like how I've written hundreds for you. Make me poetry. Let me be the subject and imagery of your words. Write my name within the stanzas and lines of your pieces. Mark your kisses between a simile and a hyperbole. Love me like you can build a library inside your heart. Scribble my existence like an everlasting art.
Darling, love me poetically. Let me turn into a poetry. Let me turn into your poetry, like how you've become one.
Sometimes, I want to be broken with someone – someone I can be with as I watch every single star pass out in the night sky. I want someone I can share my sadness with as she shares hers. I want to be alone with someone – someone I can be lonely with as I wait for the sun to set by the sea, romanticizing every broken memory that still stays in my heart. I know that my heart has already been broken, but I would love to be much more broken, knowing that there's someone who's been broken as I am. I would love to hear someone say, "Let's break ourselves until we can't be broken anymore." "Let's break ourselves until no one would no longer dare to break us into smallest and weakest version of ourselves." It's quite crazy to want something like this; but I would definitely love to have someone I can show how broken I am – someone I can be lonely with – someone I can be broken with, as we both feel the beat of brokenness and emptiness, but would not dare to complete each other; because sometimes, brokenness and emptiness can make us feel whole.
Please stop burying your heart in the graveyard of a melancholic art – depicting an image of a burning sky. Stop the turmoil of your shaking ground. You’re not bound to suffer in the depths of your own haunted sound. It’s not a notable music to keep. You don’t have to weep as you watch your flowers wither one after another. Darling, plant new ones or let the stars bloom in your garden. You don’t have to meander through the valley of melancholy just to let every single night pass by – as if you’re living just to survive. Darling, that is not how life should be lived. You don’t have to lie on your bed all day, making yourself believe that you’re a sobbing corpse inside your coffin. Darling, you’re alive, and if you’re telling me that you’re long dead, let your eyes wander the night sky. Maybe along the constellations of a thousand stars, you’ll find life – you’ll find your life; because darling, I did, and now, I’m trying to revive mine.
I am a mellow song that’s used to silently hiding somewhere between the lines of a tragic poetry; but sometimes, I become a messed up sound, and all of the serene rhythms of my metaphors get thunderous and clangorous; because sometimes, my fear and my own horrible phantasm get fused and turn into a deafening music or a destructive earthquake that even I can’t handle by myself. All of the horrible heat from the deepest part of my heart gets rising until it comes out of my mouth. I shout loud at the solemn sky, but sometimes at people. This is where I hurt people. Sometimes, everyone reminds me of the ghosts that haunt me every night, so the sharpest words slip out of my tongue like a magma that turns into lava and wounds others’ hearts. My own heart shakes until it creates a tragedy or a catastrophe for everybody. Sometimes, everyone reminds me of the death-like voices that keep reverberating in my head, and keep making me feel dead, so I can’t stop myself hurting them just to make me feel relieved. I forget that my own emotional eruption is a dangerous destruction.
To everyone I have ever encountered in my life, I’m sorry if I ever did hurt you when I was breaking inside.
I once found the most devastating storm inside my head. My thoughts were flooded by murky memories I could never forget. I was drowned; and it felt like not even a single person was there for me – to save me from drowning, so I just let and kept myself sinking in the deepest depth, giving up and not trying my best to survive. “I’ve never been alive, anyway,” words I inscribed in my heart. I let the cold shadows of loneliness outrage within me. I drowned my own self; And then, I found someone who sought for help, drowned by her thoughts, fighting with her ghosts, dissociating herself from the storm that kept her suffering. We were both underwater, barely breathing, both drowning; but she kept on fighting While I already gave up. That was the moment I realized that the storm I used to call so turned into the person I had been. “I myself was the storm that drowned me intensely.” Thanks to that someone I met in the same water I had had drowned in. She made me realize one thing. “Some are dying to live. Why am I even living to die?” And thanks to her because I had realized that we could not survive if we would not do something for own survival. Everybody can help us, but we are the only ones who can save ourselves from our own storm, especially if the storm is us.
Maybe I should start Ending everything, So I can evade the snare Of pain and suffering. Maybe it's time to stop The late night cries, The ifs and whys, And all the disappointments I hear from everyone's voice. Maybe I myself am the noise I create on my own, That's why I've been hearing My whole existence Like a sound of complete mess. I've been so stuck In the weak personality I don't have to have, Like a poor photography I have pathetically loved. At this moment, I am not the person I have ever wanted to be So maybe... I should start Killing myself to be born again. And maybe... Now is the time to lose myself And start destroying the shelf I used to hide inside. I am trapped in a world Where I can't find a word To release the best of Me. Maybe I have to be lost In the universe To find the brightest star I can be. Maybe I have to end my story To start a new one. It's time to **** the character I used to play, Because maybe I have to lose myself To find the better Me.
I want you to love me The same way I love you. I want you to feel the heat While staring at me so fervently, The explosion of your heart Each moment our eyes meet, The avalanche of your tears Every time you see me Kissing somebody else.
I want you to love me Like you can drink a poison Just to show your fidelity, Like you can behead yourself Just to prove that I'm the only one You are thinking about, Like you can pull your heart Out of your chest Just to show that it's the best And most precious treasure I own.
I want you to love me Like you can burn yourself in fire To show how ardent your love is, Like your ablaze desire Makes you want to kiss And hug me hardly and tightly That you lose your breath literally.
I want you to love me Like you want to drown in ocean, Like you want to stab yourself A hundred times until you run Out of blood and life. I want you to **** yourself Just to prove your love to me.
I want you to love me. I want you to feel How hard it is to feel this love. I want you to know How it feels to feel the love And hate at the same time. I want you to feel The pain I've been feeling right now. I want you to feel That loving you kills me every day, And yet I'm still loving this way.