Here I go again,
Planning a whole future on based solely on a hope of you.
I know I shouldn't...
But each time I look at you my imagination grows wilder.
In my head, we are already set in forever after.
Spending eternity just settling for one another.
I know it hasn't been long,
But my head is already chasing forever with you.
Before you, she was full.
Then you came.
Then you came and you slowly ****** the life out of her.
I watched her shrivel up and die in your embrace.
I watched her fade away into complete oblivion as you held her.
I sat there and did nothing as you led her to a slow, painful death.
A very slow and a very painful death.
And now her last beat forever echoes off the walls of my empty chest.
Will she ever beat again?
This ghost heart.
I met him today.
A perfect stranger named Miguel.
He looked deep into my eyes like he saw the whole universe inside of them.
He stared at me as though he saw super novas, star constellations and galaxies being born inside
He looked at me with so much passion and intrigue as though my eyes were a portal to things unknown.
His eyes stripped off my flesh...
And through just one look I felt him travel through the wierd swirl of nebula, planets and stars that is my soul.
What shocked me is...
He seemed to like what he saw.
Just maybe... This is how love is supposed to feel like
-My Ode to Miguel.
He saw me in the realest and truest form of myself. He saw all my pain and all my potential. He saw ME!
This one tells me he loves me and actually means it.
He embraces my dark mind in all its fullness.
He kisses my flaws and makes love to my dark shadows.
I keep waiting for him to break my heart,
So that deep, sad sonnets could seep through the crevices.
I keep waiting for that heart wrenching blow that'll set my soul screaming out, triggering past demons to arise and causing my hands to write sad reflections of the pain.
I've only ever written about Ghost hearts and Lost loves.
But how do I do that anymore?
How do I write about pain and suffering when all I feel is love and immense joy?
He stole the very essence of my poetry.
How dare he.
But I love him still.
And maybe, just maybe poetry doesn't always have to be dark.
But that's a story for another day.
This one is for you David.
I tried opening my eyes,
All I saw was a teary-eyed blur.
I couldn't see your deceiving smile.
I couldn't see your alluring blackhole eyes.
I was blinded from all the tools you used to lure me into your trap.
My loud wails overpowered every lie you could ever tell.
And the salty taste of my tears, erased all memory of the taste of your lips.
The excrutiating pain on my chest, and my extreme pants for air, killed all the butterflies I'd felt for you.
In that moment, when everything that led me to you was blocked out,
I was able to finally look into myself and realise my own worth.
The scars and bruises you left all over my body,
Shall forever be a reminder never to let a man like you back in my life.
Crying saved my life.
From a vague eye, looking up from earth;
I am a soft glisten.
Like the stars which gracefully twinkle on high above.
But study me, look further into my eyes.
And you will see the vastness of my soul.
You will notice the destructive explosions and super novas going on inside my mind.
The beautiful lifelessness that somehow brings life.
Notice how I constantly collapse into myself like a black-hole.
Notice how my atoms continously collide and fuse, giving birth and death to my stars.
Do not be misled by my softness.
I am the night sky
I've always been introverted and soft-spoken. But beyond that lies a whole new depth that people refuse to see.
Ever notice how the only way you can understand your emotions is by writing them down?
Or is it just me?
Before I write...
My mind is a jumbled up mess... a whole jigsaw puzzle.
But once that ink touches the paper
The confusion fades.
The pieces link up.
And I can finally see the whole picture.
My soul craves for written words.
My soul is inked.
I work in a hospital.
And I'm not sure if this was the right profession for my fragile mind.
As I walk through the hallways, I swear I can hear the walls speak...
Telling tales of lives being birthed,
and lives falling away.
I listen to the walls.
I feel every tear.
I feel every fear.
I feel every smile
and I feel every sigh of relief.
I get lost in all the stories these walls hold.
A beautiful swirl of birth and death.
I feel a slight pang on my throat, choking on the thought of death.
Then almost instantly, my face lights up.
A cry, of a healthy new born baby bounces off the walls.
I am completely lost in these walls.
And for a slight moment, I realize, I am these walls.
Either way, I work in a hospital.
I am caught in a cycle of birth and death
She was lost...
Lost in her own self.
All she saw was too many pieces of her soul;
And none of them seemed to fit together.
How do we help her?
How do we bring her back to life?
Who am I? What am I here for? Why am I the way I am? How do I become myself?
Before you fall in love with my physique,
Fall in love with my aura.
Fall in love with my soul.
"Dear poetry, allow me to offload my heavy burdens onto your shoulders.
You're the only safe place I know.
Allow me to strip naked; allow me to stand vulnerable and real before you.
You are the only safe place I know."
"Change is inevitable, embrace it."
But, do you really understand what you're asking me to do?
You are asking me to surrender.
You're asking me to give up all the control I have.
You're asking me to allow an unknown, untold, unpredictable force to take over me.
You're asking me to strip off all my armor, and leave myself vulnerable.
And I'm scared.
I'm scared of what this means.
I am finally old enough to be held accountable for my actions. It's all me now.
Quite scary huh'.
You lure me in with a sweet melody.
You sing to me a tune of sweet nothings.
Your rhythm, so deep, so passionate, makes me let down all my reservations.
I get lost in your music.
I'm singing along to your hypnotic chorus.
How can I not?
But wait, what was that?
New tempo. New melody. New rhythym.
I don't like this new song you're singing.
It has too many broken chords.
But even so,
I'm still singing along to the memory of the first song you sang.
I am trapped in it's hypnotic melody.
I'm stuck hoping one day you'll remember it too and sing with me.
Till then, I shall sing.
consistency. uniformity, steadiness.
But even so, here we are... My love.
— The End —