Every morning
I wake up to
my songs entangled
in her hair
and she flicks them
like how strong waves
fall into the ocean.
M U S I C to my ears.

"And her eyes were
made of dreams
that don't let you
sleep at night."

"Even in your most
vulnerable moments,
be your own home
be your own moon."

And they would
stand with me
refusing to let
light leave the room
like how during storms
the earth holds the grass
close to its chest.
My brothers,
What is this
Mad. Mad. Love.

Would you believe me
If I told you
everytime you
said a wish
upon a loose eyelash,
it flew and became a bird?

-would you let your dreams fly?

"In all her goodbyes,
In all her sunsets,
the air smelled of
teas made of
love and
a pinch of freedom."

The less the better.

hatred.
pain.
distance between
your lips and mine.

And there is
no point in
swimming in a water
that's too deep for you.

Let her go.

If your love
doesn't speak freedom,
maybe,
it's time to let go.

Whatever may happen,
Let love find you.
Let love take you home.

Imagine.
You. Me.
The stars.
You humming
your favorite song.
No air between us.
The night never ends.

"Even in your most
vulnerable moments,
do what your heart wants,
go where the heart goes."

And what I see in her
is beyond the moon
for she doesn't need rain
to form rainbows
but only her smile.

Let no one
ever tell you
you're any less.
You are you
and that's enough.

Everyday,
moment by moment,
I grow strong
in your love.
It is a reminder that
once
I was weak.

And I had no need
for wishing upon
falling stars
because you are all
I wished for
and you are here.

And if
we ever fall out,
remind me
to light candles
in the sky.
Because,
You're talking about
darkness.
Vast. Horrifying. Darkness.

You,
the wave of a
calm ocean.
I,
the ground beneath
the surface.
Oh how you pull
the sand apart
in search of me.

Never too late, for love.
Never too late, for home.
Breathe. Love. Repeat.

Trauma made you
what you are.
But do not let trauma define
who you are.

"And she was
as beautiful as
flowers after a
rainy morning."

And maybe
you could have saved yourself
but she was worth drowning.

And today,
I want you to run wild.
Your love
was never meant
for the cages.

Do you
DO YOU
also look at
the petals of flowers
fall one by one
and think
that's how
love leaves?

Goodbyes often feel like reaching the last page of the book and you don't know if you should finish it or leave it unfinished.

You see, leaving is the hardest ******* thing to do, until you leave. So, here's my step by step guide to say goodbye:

Step 1: When she reaches for your lungs to breathe the air you've been breathing, hold her hands and keep them on the bed of roses you've been holding by the thorns and tell her, fall has arrived.

Step 2: When she runs her fingers through your hair and reaches for your lips, stop her and show her the stubbed cigarette buds on your chest that have turned your body into smoke and tell her, you are tired of being held captive between her fingers and lips.

Step 3: When she rests her head on your lap and looks at you with hope, close her eyes and show her the cots that are testament to the dreams you weaved for each other and tell her, you don't want to dream again.

Step 4: When she makes your arm the pillow of her bed, show her the sunflower seeds you painted on your skin that blossom everytime they see her face and tell her, the sun doesn't shine the way it used to.

Step 5: When she takes your hand in her hands and brews tea in the same *** that you built as a testament to your love, show her the letters you wrote on your skin and tell her, they speak freedom.

Step 6: And after you do as I said, remember to kiss her forehead, bid her goodbye, and tell her, it was worth loving her.

"And yet in our
most vulnerable moments
we take a dive
in the same ocean
that once drowned us."

When spring arrives
she brings my poems
to life.
What's this love
that even in fall
when death arrives
she becomes a part of me
and my poems never die.

In every nook,
In every corner,
In every person,
I kept searching for her.
Oh this ******* urge
to be home.

One day
I met a man
tall, lanky, and grey.
He would smile
if someone looked at him,
his hands moving
in every direction
when he would talk,
his legs shivering
from the weight
of his shoulders.
He would fidget
with his clothes
trying to perfect them,
scratching his beard
picking it apart
hair by hair,
sweating his heart out
sitting in an
air-conditioned room,
but his eyes,
his eyes had something.
As if,
they were tired
from the all grief
he had been carrying
not shedding any
part of it
as if a mannequin
came to life,
As if,
his eyes were tired
of the weight of
the tears he had been
carrying all this time.
He learned all his life,
how to be a good man,
how to be a good son
how to be a good friend,
but one thing he couldn't learn,
how to face his grief.
One thing he couldn't learn
is how to be more human.
Because it's only human
to grieve, cry, and then
be able to feel other things.
It's only human
to be human.

Come near.
Let me set the
winds aside.
Let me stop the time.
Let me calm the oceans.
Let me look at you
for once
where there's nothing
between you and me
but our
Ice cold breaths.

What does it take
for a man
to sit in the ocean
and not pour salt
over his wounds?

-his life.

And each drop of rain
that fell onto my tongue
reminded me of the
taste of her lips.

Listen to me,
Never give up on love.
Even if you break down to a point where
you can hear the cracks in your bones
yearning for the sunshine because they've been in the dark too long.
Even if you break down to a point where
your can hear your lungs gasping for breath and all they wanna do is take a walk in the ocean.
Even if you break down to a point where your poems only speak the language of pain because they've been taken away from the moon.
I want you to keep
your hand on your heart
and repeat
there's always love
there's always love
there's always love
until you give up on the idea
that you can give up on love.

these bones that you carry
buried under deep sorrow
that a child feels upon
losing his favorite toy
the euphoria of silence
that a woman feels upon
the loss of her love
the creeping insomnia
that a painter feels upon
losing faith in his art
the music plays like fire in his ear
that a poet feels upon
the loss of words
someone holding him down by the hair
that a mother feels upon
the loss of her child
she screams there is no greater pain
these bones that you carry
you were only supposed to bury.

If her love
doesn't make you stay
maybe,
it was never your home.

On some days,
she is the calm
amidst the storm.
On some days,
she is the storm.

"And when you're gone,
I'll remember you
in my prayers
I'll remember you
in my songs."

You,
the sunset of a
roaring mountain.
I flow
like valleys
for your last glimpse
as we meet in
the fallen night.

When tears dry up
and you forget to cry
That's where
the sadness begins.

- Weep, my child

Love will touch you.
If not today,
then tomorrow.
It only asks you to
Wait.

Grief doesn't have an expiry date.
So if it hits you in the guts
everytime you hear her name,
grieve and feel every emotion
it evokes in you.
You have every right to
not disregard it.

you deserve love
served on a
bed of roses,
do not, I repeat,
do not
settle for the thorns.

In your eyes
I do not look for love
I search for peace
A peace that makes you, you.

- in quest of peace

And love someone
only until
you have to go to war
with your own self.

And if it weren't for love
there'd be no magic
there'd be no home.

"And then it was
the stillness in her bones
and the fire in her eyes
that calmed
the oceans of my heart."

"Do you also
dream of dreams
that bring you
closer to yourself?"