He write in bread crumbs,
trails of clues that will not be found because the birds have eaten them. Fleeting, unremarkable, but it feeds and feeds and fills empty stomach. Unfulfilling but full.

( Most of the days that is so much better than being hollow)

Over the years, the forest grows.
Grasses mold it self into canopies, rooftops that shields him from the light. A darkness that blinds but pulsing with warmth. Branches twisting towards each other, entangled in each other stories. 'write better' they whispers.
Flowers will not blooms but the sweet smell of honeycombs wafts through the air like hunger.

( we are hungry and hungry and lonely tell us stories, tell us more more more more please moremoreore-)

So the path to home become unrecognizable. Intangible, flickering as if it wanted to be real.
He feels kin ship down to his bones and whimpers fall out from his mouth, quivers but does not fold.
He curled but life would not, will not let him bend.

What should a man do if he cannot curve, cannot bow and break? They all said that to achieve greatness, he have to taste 'broken' on his tongue. Ripe to the point of decaying, fingers sticky with black honey.

He let his teeth chatters, secrets flew out of his mouth like love letters. Carved into him self are the promises made by breakers and yet, honesty is what he sounds like. A forest is an illusion, they say. Wrap your perception until everything look the same and there is only doubt in your self.

( After all everything have to protect their heart)

Peeling barks, bleeds. He bit his lip, wounds are his lovers but everyone knows that love is treacherous. There is a little boy and a man. There is Him, the one who only grows and feeds but never fulfills. 'Isn't that enough?',he asked.
This was what you sow into me, you make me grow into a man but not a human. So he becomes,
forest isn't the only thing that can burn.

( How do you escape your self?)

This is a mirror house, a forest where every trees are your thoughts, their roots are your beliefs, and their seeds are your doing.

(most of the times, it become your own undoings)

You reap what you sow, but what if you are the one  who was sowed.

-nabs

She is not pretty.
Her face is an average face; normal, common, ordinary. She have too big eyes, a nose that is a little bit too small, and slightly crooked teeth.
She is not pretty, and she does not mind.

Her heart isn't kind.
Isn't caring nor warm, but it is not bitter. It is a heart. Beating strong and pulsing with life. It is too tight, sometimes. Hurting her when she wanted to breathe. Most of the time she lives with the feeling of death but her heart is alive and so is she.

People asked her if she is capable of love.
They never get their answer because it is not their business what her heart can or cannot do.
She loves, barely and hesitantly. A child walking for the first time, falling down and keeps getting up.
She loves like she is dying.

Kindness isn't inherent in her,
but the autumn and pumpkin latte taste bright on her tongue, scalding and burning. She tried crying one night, but the mold would not broke (or it's already broken and she does have enough to care).

People whispers about her, she does not care.
Labels are pinned unto her back and she walks like life isn't just boxes with tags slapped on it. She walks like life is life and nothing more. They are scared of her, murmuring about her normal skin; how she can walk like she is deaf to the world.

They are afraid because she held the secret that they want so bad to devour.
"what is your deal?" "Why won't you smile?"
"Are you even human?" (howcanyouloveyourselfwhenyouarentspecialprettywhenyouarejustcomm­onandaveragehowhowhowhowho-)

She does not stand out, standing out means to fit in. She knows that to fit in means dying. And she is in love with life to let go, too in love to care that she is nothing and not special because she isn't. How can she be more than what she is when life is miraculous and a wonder and so so so much more than she could ever be in a lifetime.

She is not pretty, and she is okay with that.
Because she knows that there is so much more in life than beauty.

-nabs

you tipped my world into your axis-- gravity and such things that do not bind if we do not let them.
weaved--time and affection into a wreath that wound up around my neck.

(the wreath is pretty but breathing is getting harder and harder to do)

i didn't master patience until i fell head first into your orbit. I haven't still--but when you understand something it'll become easier.

i want to untold what i said--to swallow them back, hide them in between the crease of a smile; to cradle them--instead of giving them to you.
but i did and there's no regret to linger on.

(i have given everything--and myself still think it wouldn't be enough.)

take your time, i would rather bleed out than be a cage. and i'll wait until you leave--until you asked; cause the ball is in your court.

(know this,
i have made my choice when i dreamed being with you that night; warm lights--and smiling, in between your arms.)


"love isn't painful. what keeps you apart from it, is the one that's painful"

you went like rockets that day
up and up and up
until you drifted in outerspace
                                   waiting
          for a star to burst apart
dust by dust,
             light by light
oblivion by
             oblivion

                                  waiting,
             for them to unravel
             like you unr a v e  l  e   d


tracing the outer rim of your
asteroids, you
                               wandered
into every constellation in this
existence, take them by their hand
                    left them wanting and
scorched

craters littered your heart, filled
with asteroids belt
                 burying the starlight,
                 rings a shade of sorrow

you made your moon black, and
you said you deserved it

Once,
a little planet said to you
that you have supernovas
                              behind your
                                          eyes
only to see it die,
after

you told me,
          in between light years,
  that you are nothing but a comet
      dying at the heart with nothing
left to
lose


but you forgot, a comet is beautiful
                 because it falls while burning
                                  fighting to live, still
even when it knows it's
dying

tonight we sip our sorrow, bitter
to the point of sweetness
nursing bruised lips, bruised heart--
painful in the way that it burns you
alive,

swaying in our stool,
teetering to the edges and wonder
what it's like to fall, to fall and never
come back,

they ask if we are only halves, only
broken pieces glued into hollowed
body,

but to feel is to exists, and
we're too sad to be anything
other than
whole.

chant chant chant
knife blooming in someone heart
sharp, they said
the earth thrives on blood

false saints
those fallen from grace
who sins and suffers
dancing with bleeding feet
while the ground trembles

virtues, they said
as a head was offered
branches of jasmine peeking
out, from the hollowed socket

the children are playing,
blood on their thin bony fingers and
hungry yearning
mouth

they sing a song,
old and lost as
death came for the festival

Run, even when
the jeers are too loud
your legs feels like they will
fall off, and pain stabbing with
every footsteps that land on the ground.

Keep going, leave marks
unseen or careless
you are the one who will bite
your own fruit of labour.

(don't think about the flavor. if it tasted too much like your blood, swallow)

the dogs, rabid and feral
they will chase you
but they will cower when you show them
your gleaming teeth
all animals know to fear beasts,
especially the caged ones.

Let the wind, shake you up
bring a noose made of what ifs
and the trials that you endures
undulating coils filled with every
rejection that sneak itself into your ribs.

There are cracks on your sole,
some runs through your back
dividing your temple and circling your neck
bending down to your lips, dangles like
the consequences of reality
oozing colors but never spirit.

Run, keep running
until you burn up,
burned up and there is
nothing left but footmarks
on hard stone.

(Water is patience that you drink, but Fire is what we all breathe)

make me a wish
snowflakes in the dark,
the tangle of our body heat
warmth that is never there

war was painted on your face
tasting like your father whiskey bottle
broken and nothing
everything

push and pull,
the tides that swallows
your screams and your prayers
bend me down, you whispered

but the shore have drowned a long time ago

vanishing smile that cries
like your cracked mother's china
begging and begging and begging
nothing

(everything)

you told me that love is dark
let the candles melt and
wax burned our tounge
hell hath no fury for lovers scorned

spilled wine on the table cloth,
nothing and everything will fix us
like a nice cold champange made of
confessions of our
sins

put your mask on, let's play pretend.
no smiles--no language.
only the glide of our hand, trembling--
like the way your mother body shakes when
you have been gone away too long from home.
whispers are allowed, but only secrets and morse
and the sweet after taste that you always tried to chase.
let us disappear into this play, immerse and submerge--titanic hitting an iceberg and sinking.
unstoppable, unredeemable. a tragedy.
but you and your soft lips and the slight rasp in your voice, the misery and the life and everything in between, made a storm that saves life.
so the theater applauds at the happy ending, love that saves the day.
completely ignoring, that the day only wants to end.

leave me be, drifting towards
the pool, in which life
never start. never stops.

there is cigarettes burns
littering your cheeks,
and acid on your teeth
but you aren't a lifeguard
so don't drown.

I sing you a farewell and
a choir of rambling noises
maybe this will be what you
understand.

incoherent strings of letters
made into inconsistent words
left miracles in its bareness
there is no left overs, aching.

we aren't lovers,
don't simplify what we have
too much of that, repeating
will make any bond curdle

you and i,
were a myth, a legend
but all stories must end
and with a lingering glance
it burst into
nothing.

tightrope walking on
litanies of monsoon
                      misplaced
yet, eluded by routines
in this like minded minds

too many
sugar spoon fed
                    blame and
depreciation in a
positive
      view of the world

too many
jaded mouths echoing the
same values that was ripped
          right from the spine of
                          human kind
beginnings

these days
youth means being
                unheard
unnoticed
only riots of sounds
that is deemed too
                foolish to
amount to anything
a neon sign of all the things
that would rather be
                              denied

crying isn't a sin
it is a respite
so you do not
become so burdened
with life

your wet lashes
isn't a mark of
weakness
instead it shows
how human you
are

dear girls,
don't listen to those
toxic waste of garbage
telling you how to treat
your own body

too many times
those spider webs
were poured into our head
cobwebs muddling our brain
with poisons that
made us think that stabbing
other girls will make it better

and too many times
we are forced to listen
because if we don't
it is a matter of
life and death

we live in a world
where it is fine
to **** someone
to **** someone
if you blame it on
their clothes

how they act
how they blink
how they breathe
how they exist

we live in a world
where a girl is only
worthy of being treated
like an actual human being
if they are someone
mother's
sister's
daughter's

dear girls,
you are living in a world
where common sense is
askew

where our body is trafficked
as currency
sold, robbed
of their choice and consent

where we armored our self
with sharp nails and keys
every time we walked home just
a little bit too
late

where we are afraid,
because entitlement is savage,
claimed, right and left,
by undeserving hands
as if we are food to be eaten
when ever they please

it is important to know that
but it is also important to know
that none of it is your fault

dear girls,
you are the owner of your body
it is yours, and
forever will it be yours
in death, in life
in marriage, in teen hood

society may tell us
that our purpose here
is only to give birth to a child
and listen to whatever men say

dear girls,
society is wrong
we are so much more
and we can do better than that

it's useless,
i screamed to my self
this indulgence of
lies, needs to stop

rain drops in an ocean
don't mean a thing
there is only illusions--no,
delusions that awaits

a phantom reality
that conquers dreams
rendering me spineless,
i cannot stay this way

you are beautiful,
but these clues are just
drops of bloods and
the word sorry, scribbled out

love, had made me
a weapon of
destruction

righteousness coursing
in my vein as the
ground burns where ever
i walked

love had turned me
into a monster

yet
in the blood
splattered mirror
i only see

a fool

i wanted to
own happiness
keep it close to
my heart, and
never let go

not realizing that
you can never be
happy all the times
because

happiness is itself,
free

there is a prayer
in saying
nothing

but true salvation
lies in letting your
opinion
color the world

words are often
hard to reach
says too much
but not enough

carry tsunamis
between
each syllables
yet

too often,
we play water guns

You are a cavity
filled with whirlpools
a cancerous repetition of nebulas
pirouetting to a tone
you do not understand
any longer

there is no smile nor frown
only frozen veins,
traced to the point of
eternality,
fragile in its familiarity

tears do not have any place here
so you bleed it inside and
endure the frost bite

a never ending winter
who had forgotten its lover
shivering despite the
numbness
spreading like a forest fire

they say that there is no cold,
only the absence of
warmth

she cries
as they paint her
with blood from sacrifices

womb numb from
too much swords
unwanted,
yet bestowed
as if it is
a gift

her hand was shackled
to a pedestal
wreathed with flowers
back arched in
pain

they watched
as the earth stifled
her cries

bowing down
when she was
buried in the ground

I pine away
for the sun of a distant sky
a star I barely know
yet the drums beats wildly

eyes sees a lush forest
when there is barely any saplings
a land of withering flowers

forget-me-not,
a bitter smile on a tired face
who nursed a little heart back
from a broken heart

yet the little heart still
seized a glimmer of chance, humming
unable to stop hoping and wanting
even when the minds balked and balked
for it knows to pine for the sun is to fall

there is a reason
why human does not have wings

yet the little heart keeps trying to fly,
foolish and desperate in its loneliness
pumping it self until it burst
gone was the mind, but hope scorches

I pine away and
I perished

I'm tired of being miserable
all frowns and slumped shoulders
rain clouds and negative comments
envy that rest heavily in the gut

I'm tired of being sad
where everything feels muddy and sluggish
minds thinking that colors hate us
a wet heart and a wet face in the middle of the night

I'm tired of being weary
to the smile that strangers gave
every intentions on someone eyes
how love you's are mostly lies

I'm tired of thinking that i don't deserve happiness
because the truth is?

we all do.

Talk to me only when you need me
c'mon use me as a waste bag
I'll listen to your words and fold it in my cards
try to use me to cure your self
I'm a one use injection, a temporary amusement
It's alright, i'm not mad
after all i'm only some medication
near their expiration dates
throw me away after you used all the pills
I'll paste a smiley sticker on my face
kindness is a thing you take for granted
overdosing does apply to you
even if you think you'll be the exception
leave me laying on the cold ground
getting touched by thousand hands
won't make a big deal of it anyway
If it hurt me, you don't really care

after all aren't I just a hole for you to shove all your things into?

Careless nights, high on caffeine
head filled with cotton and yet
waterfall streams true
the truth is on the horizon, it whispers
yet like the apple dangling on a tree
so close but out of reach
a boat made of pillows
tooth and nails shape this body

Sometimes I want to be numb
because emotions feels like nails
and they scrape the windows
left marks that will not disappear

Sometimes I want to be numb
because my heart feels too soft
and it keep hurting and bleeding
even after I buried it six feet under

Sometimes I want to be numb
to not care about being empty
or feeling guilt that seeps in the foundations
those are the days where getting anything done becomes very hard

Sometimes I want to be numb
but then there is days where I bathe
in the privilege that is feelings
to be able to taste sunlight and feel the wind
shouting and screaming and kicking and fighting
bitter and sweet and crying and breathing
to be able to say I love you and goodbye

Sometimes I want to be numb
but feeling pain is a price
I would gladly pay to be alive

playing surgeon
words as our scalpel
dissecting our body
trying to heal the broken parts,
instead what we achieved
is mangling ourself
into unrecognizable
pile of mess

angry teens
rebelling agains the streams
trying to find them self
in a world where nothing make sense

We met on the axis of two different parallels
a paradox too taboo to be whispered
gone in a blink of an eye
and yet exist in a sea of desperation

You were gone in the next exhale
and I too follow suit
unacknowlegding of the fact
that we both wear the same existance

Do you remember that story?
how prometheus got chained,
his liver pecked every dawn
because he showed kindness?

We both atone for sins not of our own
but would glady drown in our exile
because it was better than the stale pit
those people call life

This were the worlds we condemned
ourself to be with
two people, who knows
but is bound by our vow to be blind

Winter in my home was always beautiful
how pristine the snow is
until you dig up the corpse
under our fingernails

Just like the summer in your home
where the plants are growing
from the river of blood
that run beneath

You are soot stained, cold eyes
but your hands are warm

They were always warm,
and i wonder if it was because
of the blood that stained your hands

You use your spine as a spear
I use my ribcage as a shield
those tear tracks have died
and there is both spite in our eyes

We never touched, except for that first time
never shared anything except understanding
i do not know your story,
nor do you know mine

but it was more than enough

We both met at the axis of a parallel
created out of the resonance
of the guilt and the war and
everything in between
and we met with a touch of kindness

He is a golden boy
hair made from strands of sun
and skin as dark as
the war that raged inside his mind
his words are sandstorm
ready to blow away those foolish enough
to travel the desert without willpower
there are cobras coiling in his veins
venomous and deadly and glinting like stars
as the dove on his back spread their wings
and try to fly away
He is a golden boy
heart buried deep beneath
shriveling everyday as he try to
held the world on his shoulders

By Nabs

13.
The water burned my skin,
I scrubbed until it was raw and red.
An empty 200 ml bottle of soap laid on the bottom of the bath tub,
I used them all, crying because no matter what I did the kiss still lingers like a stubborn stain on my body.

My mother always told me not to smile at strangers.

I've never felt so ***** in my life.

8.
The first time I heard the word ****,
Was when the news flashed a picture of a 10 years old dead girl. They found her lying naked in a town park. Said that she had been ***** several times.

My mother cradled my head, kissing me with fears in her eyes.

I asked her what that word means, she just shook her head and hugged me closer.
Told me to always be careful.
That little girls need to always be alert because there are wolves wearing man skin.


I didn't understand what the word means nor the fear that echoes in my mother eyes.

But the picture of the dead girl stayed in my head along with a new vocabulary.

13.
I was disappointed.
The hotel was not what I expected. The bed was not comfortable, the room too hot, though the window have an amazing view.

The elevator was very annoying.
It was always too long.
I pushed the button again and again.

There's the cleaning service guy in the hall.
He's looking at me.

I smiled at him, the elevator door opened.

6.
Our home room teacher told us today,
That a smile can brighten someone else's day.

I couldn't stop smiling when I get home, not even to strangers.

I didn't notice the way, my driver was blocking me out from view.

9.
There's a new house being built in the complex.
I walked past the construction site with my older cousin to get to my house.
We were laughing freely and happily.
Childhood was clinging to us like a warm and comfortable blanket.

The construction workers whistled at us and called us pretty. They invited us to play with them.

I smiled at them nervously.
I didn't know why my hand started to feel clammy and cold. My older cousin gripped my hand tight and dragged me to walk faster.

Wan't pretty supposed to be a compliment?

15.
click. open page

(n) Cat Call:
"A loud whistle or a comment of a ****** nature made by a man to a passing woman."

- Oxford Dictionary

See link below for the definition of ****** harassment.

click.

13.
There was a knock, an open door.
A smile and betrayal.

The day I learned that 'I love you',
can sound ominious, make pity rise like a well.
How it can be filled with poison and lies,
corroding naivity like acid on skin.

A feral kiss, pungent breath.
There was hands roaming
where it wasn't welcome.
My body freeze as tar
like dread course through my veins.

That day, the word 'no' becomes my prayer.

14.
I stayed in my room.
I tried not to let my eyes wonder to where I hide the blade. I had become too acquaintanced with it, this past years. Too addicted.

The clocked showed 9.00 PM. I stared at the ceiling unable to sleep. Wishing I could forget.
It's been one year.
I had taken a bath to cleanse my self.

The door creaked open.

( see you tomorrow.)

There's someone sobbing.
I locked my self in the bathroom until I fell asleep on the cold white tiles.

I woke up with a sore body and a red flower was blooming on the floor.

I sprayed it with water hoping I could also disappear like them.

(I don't remember how to smile)

13.
I told my mother what happen.
There was denial in her eyes, and blame were pouring out of her mouth like it was the only thing keeping her afloat in the world.

It crashed against me like a tsunami, and I drowned.

I drowned, and I never realized how alone I was.

The words 'It's your fault' etched under my skin and shame rattled in my heart like shackles.

I stared blankly at the ceiling, resentment growing in my eyes, and I wonder if forgiveness is possible.

12.
My mother and father always said that the day I was born, it was like a dream come true.
Said they were so happy to have a daughter, that they celebrate like never before.

They named me such wonderful prayers.
Said I will grow up to be a strong woman.

I believed every word they said.

My parents aren't a liar.

17.
It's been 4 years.
There is still monsters under my bed. The tears never truly stop pouring, new scars keep littering my body, and my heart will never stop bleeding.
I understand the fear in my mother eyes.

But the red flowers have stopped blooming and I relearn how to smile. It's still frayed on its edges but breathing becomes more easier.

It's been 4 years,
and I have learned forgiveness.

we stand, gazing up to the sky
see it cracked like a spider web
dust and grime  have dirtied our hands
saturated in the culture of lies
growing like fungus,
chaotic in their network
sweat drips down, reflection distorted
teeth grind down to brittle pebbles
holes and cavity
a rot that afflict both humanity and this world
we can't shake off our sin, it's there
forever will it be there, a little lead lake
building mountains as you exhale each breath
tiny bones will grow into one of hollow
with empty eyes and wobbly knees
scrapped thigh and ****** fist
but we still grow, a bean sprout
on mounds of rotting corpses
even as our breathe hackles
torn up legs will march the
march of rightiousness
muddy puddle doesn't make a good mirror
but we make do

this frail body is black and blue
soft hands turned callouses
no longer rosy nor inexperienced

i no longer have them,
the thing you seek
a barren waste land with out fruit to grow
your seeds cannot grow here anymore

they said icarus loved the sun too much
that death was bound to give him a kiss
on his peeling back, the one where
flesh and waxes intertwined

i do not understand why
everything still trembles when you knock
but i have learned how to handle earthquakes
and you aren't as encompassing as you thought you were

there's a little girl that drowned, some years ago
fighting tooth and nail until she grew too tired
so she sunk and everything filled her
and she disappear between the lines

i do not resent you
we are not meant to be in a way
this were destined to just be

but i do not have what you seek for
and the walls have been carved
with exorcism rites, by the little
girl with chipped nails and bloated fingers

bitterness is a taste i am customed with
ever since that moonless night
but to let it poison such things as a smile
is a blashpemy to life it self

i have learned honesty,
behind words and the masks
the you left behind in those old suitcases
from your family

this frail body is tired and weary
in need of an over long due sleep
so sing me a lullaby,
about the kindness of cruelty

Cross your fingers
close your eyes
inhale the coldness
of the warmth that used to be
burning you as you
merge and fuse with the ice
of the arctic sky
while constellation hanging
a noose, a thin thing,
made just for us

crumbling like sandcastle
washed away by the wind
kissing names goodbye
freedom in letting go
blessing ourself with
half forgotten mirages
fantasy of being right
cheeks red from the
slap we give ourself
reality check we call it
abusing one self some call it
blowing raspberries
in field of thorns
hate the sin
love the sinner

(breathe.)

I. Monday

Lethargy is your close friend
the weight of its hand on your shoulder
is both familiar and heavy
you want to push it away
but these days
you need company more than dignity

(in and out)

II. Tuesday

You always hate this day
your coffee always turn sour
and the sky always seems so bleak
you try to convince yourself
it does not have anything to do
with the ever absent table in front of you

(breathe.)

III. Wednesday

Scrolling down through facebook
you see pictures of your high school friends
you scowled and keep scrolling
the taste of toilet water and stale food
still ripe on your tounge
you grimaced
a therapy add pops up into your monitor

(the bile is normal. breathe)

IV. Thursday

You wonder about greek gods
about their passion that turned cruel
you also wonder why things are called things
and other inane things
you wonder a lot
why rice tasted nice
why blue sounds sad
why your brother never came home

(exhale and inhale)

V. Friday

Five, that's the number of people in your family
Your father, who always phones at midnight
your mother, who stayed in the kitchen weeping
your brother, who you never seen again
your sister, who wear short skirts to hide the bruises on her
you, who swallowd too many pills to remember how to be human

(don't try to stop breathing. It's important)

VI. Saturday

It's almost over now
you wrote down every word you remember
from their letter that they sent 2 years ago
before they became a mess of mutated cell
you keep telling your self they're still the same
you lie to yourself so you can sleep at night
denying that change is inevitable
you have mutated too
the infection were from yourself

(in out in out inoutinoutinout)

VII. Sunday

The sun is shining bright today
but the lights are blinding
and you burrow further into the blanket
not smiling as hands brushes your hair
they're the skeleton begging to be out
from the closet you locked them
you pursed your lips
Golden liqiud it is

(breathe and look up.)

the town is crumbling
                        the bell is tolling
                        the dead ones are rolling

and we're still sinning
        while the whole world is burning

smoke bombs
vivid colors, fumes that clog your throat
how humane it is to sacrifice yourself
just to see a hint of beauty in our life
we cough and we cough and we cough
until we spat blood out on our hand
brimming with the potency of sheer
stubborn humanity of wanting to live
in paradise of beautiful things on earth.

****** knees, dark circles
wearing insecurities like its the new trend
baring your heart to the world
presenting it, thinking it'll hurt less
if you volunteer

but bile still creeps up your throat
as each stab of society knife plunges
into your head quarters
bypassing every defense you have
leaving shattered denials and false truths

you recite your gospels, your mantra
everynight you went down on your knees
you prayed and you prayed
until there is nothing but obliteration of
one sense of humanity

spider thread, you grasp them
and you hung from the ceiling
with all your dreams and silence
watching you as a spectator
as you spilled your gut
voice dead inside

i can't sleep
my head's too loud to be ignored
my heart too heavy
my voice to small to be heard
over fresh new screams coming from
behind the doors of fake heaven

Dust.
    Dusk.
        Duck.
                            Your allergies, your tragedies.
                  Your lies, your trials, your smiles.
        Your wariness, sweetness, bitterness.
Hidden, always hidden.
In plain sight you left your traces.
    Constellations of footprints, paper pieces.
    A beating heart, that beats not for it host.
                            Thumping, crashing.
Silver scar, hunting knife.
Apollo and Artemis blessing.
            
              The pattern of your orbits.
                                                Pleasure.
Closure.
                          Erasure.
Deleted, that's what they said.
Said, said, says.
Liar, liar, pant's on fire.
    Denial runs deep, drowning
                  Always forever drowning.
Tracing your existence, as it blinks out.

You left, with unfinished business.
                              They scattered, the remains
                              Of the ashes of your
            Photograph.
A dent in my soul,
                                            A trench in my heart.
Beating in agony over the ripped part.

      A tome that will self destruct.
              
                          A tomb for you and your memoir.

as i passes the streets
i see things getting rebuild
or a fave shop getting deconstructed
or old abandoned building turned into houses
it put me back to perspective
how fast time flies from our fingertips
it's like a fast forward button
you know it's there but you're oblivious to it
not knowing how fast you jump forward
always wanting for it to be over
to go to a period where you'll feel happier
forgetting to savor the feeling of just being alive
rushing through life like it's a chore
then reminders like this slaps you on the face
how much time have we spent
on wishing for better times, and never realizing that as each 'tick tock' of the clock means
more time have slip between your fingers
you can never hold on to time
they're like birds unseen in the horizon
but reminder like this remind us
we never really know how
precious time is until it ran out.

my heart soars
everytime i hear your steps
fluttering weakly as you walk closer
and closer and closer
it dies as a meek little thing
as you passes me to another flower

Goodbye,
to the long nights
filled with your endless chatter
while your presence burrow itself
deeper in the cavern of my cranium
seeping through every pores

(i should've taken my antibiotics more)

Goodbye,
to the constant warmth
and burst of vivid life
that you painted on me with colored chalk
despite me telling you that i'm a black board

(maybe i should've told you i'm allergic)

Goodbye,
to the feeling of falling
and not being afraid for the impact
the dizzying senstation that flooded inside
of the daily dose of adrenaline rush
you taught me to not be scared

( i'm not scared anymore because i've reached the ground)

Goodbye,
to your kindness and intimacy
your fold and creases and lines
the labyrinth that i would gladly be lost in forever
would gladly throw away my maps and my common sense so i could just learn about you more

Hello,
to the first chapter after you


( all that time charting made me know how you work, it doesnt make it easier to swallow why you made yourself a stranger to this known walls )

They say,
"Your body is a temple."
Does that mean
I need to purge
my self out of it?

I woke up to an empty room.
another day of pills and liquor
to forget how painful a heart broke is.
How it feels like you're
burning and freezing at the same time.

Swallowing the pills down,
I force my self to function.
even though I feel like walking on a bed
of jagged pieces of my heart
that is left brittle and wasn't mine anymore
It pumps weakly, desperate for the feeling
of warmth and happiness.

My heart is yours and you discarded it.
Leaving it unwanted on the floor that I used to call a solace from world.

You discarded it on the room where you proposed your undying love to me.

I chug down bottle after bottle of numbness.
trying to drown down your tutting voice that reminds me to take care of my self.
Trying to drown all the memories of us with the golden toxic that I stocked up in the cupboard because it's your favorite.

I want to tell you that I didn't shed any tears.
You would smile at that
and said," That's my girl".

It hurts that I am not your girl anymore.
It hurts that even consuming all the things I wished you would stop using, I still can't hate you for leaving.
I still can't hate you after you engrave abandontmend into my tailbone, making my spine cold and heavy with unsecurity and dread.

I still can't hate you so I'll hate my self.

So I chug and chug again.
Swallowing pills upon pills.
Over dosing my self with numbness because
feeling the pain isn't an option.
I've built my life around you and the walls are crumbling and crumbling and crumbling.
I'm to ******* afraid that once the numbness is gone i'll be left only as ashes to scatter.

Misery is my constant companion these days.

I've learned the curve of it's lips kissing the top of my head,
remember the sound of it's voice as it soothe me into a state of catatonic disarray and the diability to continue dancing with life.

I forgot how to dance with out a partner.

I still have not shed any tears for you.
Your smile and your laugh keep echoing in my head and I want to scream until i turned into a shade.

I wonder If I'm trying to turn my self into the wraith that you always fascinated with.

I still wear the ring on my finger. I tried throwing it away but my eyes burns and I do not want to be a promise breaker.
Even if my whole body is trembling and my every beat of my heart brings sparks of pain that sears to my body, I will not be a promise breaker.

I still wore your ring on my finger.

So I chug again and again and again.
Until my mind was hazed enough, unable to make the connection of gold to your eyes.
To make a connection of white to your teeth.
To temporarily ceased to remember you and your stupid hair.

To temporarily forget about how it feels like my hearts is being squeezed tight every time I see you anywhere.

There's white foam on the corner of my mouth.
It reminds me of Hans Christian's Little Mermaid.
Of the mermaid's love and how it turned her to foam.

So when the morning light comes, I wished for my self to turn into foam instead of days where it is filled with broken bottles, white pills, and the fact that you left me for my sister

I wish for me to be strong enough to stab the heart that yearns for you and remove your ring from my finger.

bells and wheatgrass on your hair
the way your wrist deflect
every hand shake coming your way
a smile that was never quite there
twitching between beaming
and solid wall

sand colored ribbon tied to your thumb
how you carve every word
from the dictionaries into the walls of your mind
making sure you always have a weapon
in your artilleries to shield you
from humanity and their helplessness

foggy glasses and dew stained mouth
every time you breathe out
there's pain lacing every
carbon dioxide exhalation
there's also release in the way
you take pleasure in knowing
you have less and lesser time existing

lime sneakers and muddy jeans
you keep telling your self that
the voices inside your head
will never be more than that
until the day the pungent smell
of guts dying sears them self
into your head space and lungs

streaks of paint on your neck
the taboo's you want to feel
gliding against your nerves
grating them until you stop feeling
empty between your ribcage
filling you so full of void,
you want to rip it open

red stripes on your back
you look at the broken mirror
in the failure you call a heart
how it still pumps and pumps
no matter how many times
you wished it stopped

meteors lining your veins
at night you close your eyes
and let the ocean crashes against your walls
tasting how salty the water is agains your tongue
thinking how sad it is
to love something that have life as their grave.

brimstone and fire
ready to engulf anyone
to burn or be burned
Shield that destroys

I know how to love so deep
with someone that you
know, in your very heart,
will never be with you
in the way that you yearn

I know how to love so long
that being loved back
does not matter anymore
because it's better to not be loved back
than have them say no to you

I know how to lie about that love
to pretend it isn't there until
one day it turned into another kind of love
the one you know you can cling to
because it's whats acceptable
because it mean I'm back behind the line

I know that the more you love someone
the more you know that being
reciprocated isn't the important thing
it's the fact that you can be beside them
and watch them smile, cry, and be human
it's the fact that even if you cannot hold
their hand that way, you know
that they trusted you
that they have your back

I know how a heartbreak feels like
how it would be so quiet and unnoticeable
to anyone, If you don't admit
you have one in the first place

I know that to admit,
whether being in love or in pain,
was the first step of letting go
maybe that is why I kept denying

I know how love feels like
before I know what the word means
before I realize that it is why I see you
in bright light, or why i always try to impress you
before I realize I was so deep in love

I didn't fall in love with you, I never did
Loving you was like me being in my skin
It is as easy as breathing and me afraid of the future
the day I realize that fact was not a revelation
it was an admission of a secret
that I meant to keep to my self

I know how to love you for so long
that loving someone other than you
had me crying and calling and laughing
because it feels like a relieve
it feels like a little white lie i can take comfort in

I know how to stop denying and hoping
and just love you and love you
and it's easier than anything I've ever done
because I have never learn how not to accept you

In the long run, love does not make you feel
breathless, it does not make your heart pump fast
love makes you see them in all their glory and flaws
and makes you think that you can't live
with out them being a part in your life

I know how to love
I know how to be in love
I know how to be heartbroken
I know how to love and love and love,
again and again

I know and I know and I know

and I understand now

That the most truest way I can say that I love you
is me saying goodbye to my love for you