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Blckstr 5d
You taught me how to fall in love
with a seraph riding a lightning
made of heaven’s wrath;
the first time you touched my heart,
my innocence was crushed
as though the cherubim
plucked the forbidden fruit
and made me eat it
in the garden of pleasure –
it tasted like love,
the same one that wafted with
the smoke of your cigarette
when our tongues intertwined
inside a wretched shrine;

honey, you made me fall in love
with the bittersweet sin
and inescapable pit of pain;
you locked me up
in a dungeon
you built out of heartbeats
and sordid lies,
and I was so naïve
to embrace the flaming bars
when they were still open;
instead of leaving,
I let you chain me
with your ferocity,
I let you ravage my heart
in a lake of fire and brimstone
just to keep the hymn
of our bodies
echoing with the sound
of the seventh trumpet,
I let you drown me
in the blood of my own;
you stole my devotion
and fooled me
that the wounds you put on my skin
were a sacrificial lamb
for keeping the fire
of our love burning on,
but every time the blade
dug deeper in my body,
it just hurt
and hurt
and hurt
without feeling
the slightest touch of your love;
maybe you never even had it
in the first place;
maybe I shouldn't have let the beast
grow darker behind the light,
maybe I shouldn't have let the serpent
bite my heart
for an elated judgment;

honey, I crawled out of Eden
just to kiss you under the morning star;
had I known we’d just come undone,
I wouldn’t have let my wings
touch the fire
just to fly with you
beyond the seventh heaven.
Blckstr May 4
I only stayed with you
because I wanted to have someone
I could be with
along the road of emptiness
when everything was breaking apart
and my bruised heart
was craving for a scrumptious remedy.

Darling, I never really loved you!
I justed wanted to have someone
who would hold my hand
under the starless sky
as I held my scarred pen
and overly tattered papers;
Darling, I only stayed with you
for I needed a muse
that I could use
in writing poetry and proses;
and those comely roses
I had given you
were only meant for fragrance
that could make my words
attractive enough
to be read and heard;
and those kisses we shared
in the middle of the nights
were only meant for sweetening
the dull ink of my pen;
and those poems I gave you
were not really written for you –
I wrote them for myself.

Darling, I stayed with you
not because I loved you,
but because I just needed you.

Darling, I never really loved you –

I never really loved you
until I broke your heart;
I never really loved you
until I broke my own heart;

I never noticed that my heart
was actually beating for you
until you fell out of love from me;
I never knew that my life
would be incomplete
until you left me alone –

until you left this world;
until you finally met Death.

Darling, it's too late;
it was too late for me to realize
what I've been feeling towards you
I've been falling in love with you –

I'm falling apart for you.
Blckstr May 3
Do you still remember
how we stepped into the pages of a book
and lost ourselves
amid the world of romanticized words?
I mean,
do you still remember the time
when we were writing our love story
between the spaces
of unbreakable compound words?

I mean,
do you still remember
the smell of the old books
we used to get addicted to
and how we fondly read them
on our favorite wooden bench
by the rusty, timeworn streetlamp?

I mean,
have you already forgotten
how it felt to turn to the next chapter
of an underrated novel
while our hands were interlocked
with the mysteries of never-ending heartbeats?

I mean,
I still remember
how we embraced the warmth
of "I love you's" and "I miss you's"
and how they slowly turned
into obsolete phrases
swimming away from your tongue.

I mean,
I still remember
the bittersweet aftertaste
of your kisses,
of your tender hugs,
of your love poems,
of our love story
you chose to burn to ash.

Darling, I still want you
to come back for me;
I mean,
I still want to continue
everything we have started –
the bouquet of rose-scented words
and the proses we once had read
and we had written
beneath the starlit ceiling
of ever-burning feelings.

Darling, I'm still terribly in love
with the heartache
I once had felt
while holding your hand;
I mean,
I'm still stuck
inside a love-spangled book
you have ended with tragedy.
I mean,
I should've just refused
to begin our story
when I still had the chance
to create a better one
with someone else –
with someone who's way better than you,
because now,
my heart is already tired enough
to write a new one
that can make me end
my broken love for you.
Blckstr Apr 21
You ripped me apart
until the shards of my heart
lost their way
to be whole again.
For so long,
I’ve tried to fix myself
and normalize everything
while living
in a caricature of a broken love
and in a pad of shattered words,
but you know what,
my foolishness
still messes
and still misses your lies
and every ***** thing
that made me fall
in love with you .
My late night thoughts
still flood my head
with artworks
that portray your face,
and the paper
of my shattered poetry
still screams
the sound of your name
between the spaces
reserved for your return.
Maybe I’m stupid enough
to still wish
for you to find
your way back to me.
Maybe I’m dumb enough
to still want
to have a taste
of the storm
that once destroyed me.
I want to find
the self I lost
the moment
you found your way
away from me,
but my head
is still coming back
to the memories
that make me
lose myself
a little more.
I want to forget
every little thing
about us,
because these
little things hurt me the most.
I want to stop
writing you
countless poems;
but then again,
all my poems
are still named after you,
all my words
still long for you,
because darling,
you are still my poetry,
you are still my favorite kind of tragedy,
and I still can't get over you.
Blckstr Apr 20
You tasted like magic
of the music at a party,
a little like an addictive
champagne on a night
of ecstasy and dancing lights.
We danced to the rhythm
of our lost heartbeats
like a couple of strangers
soaring to the heights
of bliss and crazy starlights.
You were the rest and relief
after an exhausting week,
and I wrapped my arms around you
to feel some electrified sensation
that would soothe my body
on a cozy bed of unfamiliar sheets
or on a dancing floor of drunk souls.
The vibration of the midnight tune
crawled over our skins
as though the healing melody
touched our deep-rooted wounds.
It felt so nice,
I thought you could mend me.
I kissed you in the breadth
of pain and pleasure,
thinking that the confectionery
flowing from your lips
was an eternal satisfaction.
I kissed you in the middle
of darkness and disco *****,
in the middle of strange crowd
dancing in a room of broken bottles
and noisy harmony of heartbeats.
I kissed you like a Friday night,
and I found myself
on a Saturday dawn
in the middle of the road
having a hangover
from the music of your heart
and the bittersweet taste of your lips.

I kissed you like a beer.
I loved you like a stranger.
I lost you like a lover.
Blckstr Feb 24
Some nights are meant
for writing poetry;
for bleeding all the pain out;
for mending the emotional cuts;
for trying to make everything right;
for standing up with a fight
through scribbling all the breaking
words and phrases
my tongue held back
back then.
Some nights are meant
for stealing the stars
from the sky
one at a time
just to light my life up.
Some nights are meant
for dragging the best constellation
in the sky
to put it on my dried lips
so I can have a
brightest smile.
Some nights are meant
for burying all the mournful nights;
but every I-have-still-woken-up day
is seemingly meant
for digging all the pain inside.
Blckstr Feb 24
I –
I am a demon perishing
from fire to fire,
with maggots crawling
over my scorching skin,
thorns ****** into my heart,
horns ****** into my head,
born to bring chaos
a forsaken soul in the underworld,
forbidden to feel Love –
yet my heart fell for you.

You –  
You are made of halo
and sanctified wings –
a creature molded with purity
a creature with precious beauty.
You are a special creation
in this complicated cosmos;
and if there’s more special
about you,
it’s the fate that you
fell in love with a demon like me.

We –
We are the bittersweet
flavor of ice and fire,
ultimately contrasting,
heavenly and hellishly
forbidden to be with each other.
Whenever our lips conspire,
everything is falling apart.
The heaven and hell
roar between us
as we stay together.
Maybe we’re not meant
for each other.

We are torn between
loving each other
and dissociating
with each other.
You rip your wings apart,
throw your halo away,
and discard everything you have
just to be with me.
But I choose to walk away
and dive into the deepest hell
because I know,
Love won’t do anything good
for the both of us.

I love you
and you love me,
but maybe –
just because we love each other
doesn’t mean we’re meant to be.
Inspired by Avril Lavigne's "I Fell in Love with the Devil"
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