And did I tell you
about how the
sunflowers
you painted on my skin
crave for you
every morning
yet the winter
never ends.

Where are you, my sunshine?

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.

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

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

Love in such a way
that you never
have to look back.

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.

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

Never apologize for
being who you are.
Only you know the
depth of the ocean
you took a dive in.

Dripping
from the neck
to your collarbones
the sweat on your skin
meets your musky perfume
and leaves a scent
which makes my heart
run like a mad man.

"And in this world
of dry souls,
she fills the air
with the smell of
rain soaked soil."

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

And I always wonder
about the land
Rumi talked about.
I have a feeling
we met there.

Giving others
the roses of your life
while holding them
by the thorns
is sacrifice
and
sacrifice is pity, not love.

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

- Weep, my child

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

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.

And everytime
I put my arms
around her,
I burn.

- Oh, she's fire.

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

And today,
I want to paint
dreams for you.
Dreams painted
between the gaps
of our fingers.
Sipid and Wild.

"And her smile
was made of flowers that
united the lovers
comforted the dead
and
grew on my heart."

The half broken mirror kept
in the forgotten corner of
my house
tells me stories of a man.
The half broken mirror tells me
the man would look at
the mirror for hours
smoking his favorite cigars
until his ashtray was full.
The half broken mirror tells me
the man would look at
the mirror for hours
weeping tears of tar
until his heart was full.
The half broken mirror tells me
the man would look at
the mirror for hours
telling stories of strange lands
until his eyes were full.
The half broken mirror tells me
the man would look at
the mirror for hours
reciting the name of a woman
until his soul was full.
The half broken mirror tells me
that it would often
see itself in the man.

Imagine.
You.
Young in love.
Nothing to lose
but your heart.
That's how tragedies start.

The less the better.

hatred.
pain.
distance between
your lips and mine.

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

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

There's nothing
that a bottle of
whiskey couldn't
make me forget

except
the way you loved me.

"She was an
unusual dresser.
Every night,
she wore bruises
on her heart,
love on her lips,
pain in her eyes,
and ink on her fingers.
They called her poetry."

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

For you,
I would die
a thousand deaths
if you
would just let me
live one
with you.

Darling,
you're much more than
those three little words.

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

Have you ever stared
at a blank piece of paper
for so long
it starts turning into
a concert of unanswered questions
posed by a teenager
who is awakened
about his sexuality
which was long repressed
under the secrets
he was asked to keep
the things he had to hide
the pain he slid under the carpet
with a smile on his face
he was no snitch
he liked keeping
the paper blank
he was a good boy
who could keep things with him
the boy was in deep sleep,
that boy, he was in deep sleep,
and now he is awake
he knows what he lost
he knows what's good and
what's bad
he knows
the world will question him
why he didn't speak earlier
why now
why now
why now
the world will eat him up
but he knows at this point
nothing matters to him more
than what he lost
than what is ahead
give me my childhood
give me my childhood
give me my childhood
he screams
he stutters
he cries
I am done
I am awake
I am free
it's time to color this page black
it's time to turn the page.

Unbutton the love
that's choking
your neck.

Until her scars
are ingrained
on the texture
of your skin,
Until her pain
flows through
the cracks of
your bones,
do not tell me
you love her.
do not tell me
she is your home.

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

Every once
in a while
I would take
off my body
and wear her.
I never looked better.

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

Perhaps,
the grass will never know
the joy of flowing in the wind.
It's too stubborn to let go.
It's too arrogant to know
that the earth holds it,
not the other way round.

When your heart feels heavy:

1. Sit down in silence
2. Take off your shoulders
3. Hear your bones crack
4. Let your eyes breathe
5. Whisper to your heart,
it's home.

Why I only wear Shiny shoes?

Every morning,
I would wear my shiny shoes
and run off to the field
for a game of football
and come back bruised and scarred
bleeding out of my mouth
but I was smiling.
You see, my shoes were still shiny.
Every morning,
I would go to school
bragging about my shiny shoes
and come back
with dried tears
and red hands as if
someone hit them really hard
but I was smiling.
You see, my shoes were still shiny.
Every morning,
I would see my friend
waving at me from a distance.
We were our only friends.
I was his SpongeBob, he was my Patrick.
One day, Patrick left.
But I was smiling,
You see, my shoes were still shiny.
All this while,
Nobody cared that the
insides of my shoes were
being torn apart
because my shoes were still shiny,
because I was still smiling.

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

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?

And do me a favor,
write me
in your letters
and keep me
between the pages
of your diary.
Right where
the dead rose lies.

When I write about love
I draw ink
from my own blood.
You see,
Flowers need their
own seeds to bloom.

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

Do not wait
for someone
to offer you
their world.
Remember,
you have your own.

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