you, me
As the sunrises, as the sunsets,
sitting on the grass,
sharing our past present and future
opening up to each other and one day hoping
just hoping that we will meet each other twelve months from now with upgrade and happiness in our heart.
Just hoping.
Just hoping that we will be everyone's model
the relationship, the love, the trust,
the happiness and the little lust.
That we will still share that.
As time passes by and our body becomes ambiguous and wants to try something new,
Just hoping that we will stay together.
Just hoping
I mean.... at least we hoped.
I hoped.

A clean black page with lines and a margin is the most encouraging thing you can see to help explore part of the world's knowledge. Giving you the freedom to express your words not through speaking , but through writing. Even though people won't understand how you feel, the paper will. it has no choice. It will submit to you. The paper will take it as an opportunity, "So many could have written on me, but you did." A great privilege to embody and share someone's pain. You brought to life with the words you wrote on it. Each single letter formulated into words that led to sentences and developed a meaning. a pencil, A paper And it's master. They will do great things to people. Add knowledge, or corrupt the mind. Its up to the master. However, those three will change lives.

Shut up and listen.
I am writing in this dark place where I can barely see and I just wanted  to tell you that I miss you and I still love you. Not to sound cheesy but I still care about you. I am so sorry  for leaving you. I... I could have just stayed and taken the risk.. But... all I was thinking about was myself and not how you will feel. I am sorry. You may hate me soo much. I spite because you despise me. I will endure this unbearable punishment I bestowed upon myself.  I just wanted to say I love you. I can do everyday without you but it is painful and tiring. I can't seem to fathom myself not thinking about you. I might not seem like that anytime I see you. Still.... Don't judge a book by it's cover. I love you....

LOOK look!
It's not like I like you,
I feel moved when I see you.
Maybe it's because you're cute.....
But it's cool cause I don't have any intentions of getting close to you.
We are not meant to be so I'll just take my leave.
Our path in this world is different.
That's just how it's meant to be.
Even though you didn't pay me no mind, I acted like I didn't feel down.
I cried but not when you were there.
It felt good acting perfectly fine around you thinking your feelings will one day change.
It hurts that you are happy without me even though I crave for your attention badly.
I envy the way you are happy without me...
I try to be unresisting .
Ha....
You passed me by and gave me chills but you didn't feel anything.
I feel so bad for my foolish heart that won't wish you the best because I don't want to let you go.
Again.....
It's not like I like you.
I'm just moved by your groove....

It's not me who said we weren't in love, it was you.
It's not me who said we won't make a good connection, It was you.
It's not me who said we are frenemies, It was you.
It's not me who said we couldn't go out. It was you.
It's not me who said you were ugly, it was you.
It's not me who said you were useless, It was you.
It's not me who said she loves you more than anyone could, it was you.
it was not me that called me thick, It was you.
It wasn't me that acted like we shouldn't be seen together, it was you.
It's not me who switched up and acted different when she came around, It was you.
it's not me who said I didn't love you.... my love, it was them... and you
it's not me that said we should not hug, it was you
It's not me who decided to touch your hair, it was you who asked me to do so.
its not me who kept holding my waist with a firm grip after I hugged you, it was you.
It's not me who decided that you should run your hands through my face so tenderly leaving me startled because of your alleviated touch.... it was you.
it's not me who made a decision that hurt me... its you.
It's not me that came to a conclusion to make myself cry at night, it's you.
My love.... why go against your word just to make me feel hurt
then later, you blame me because you feel mortified and in pain.
I didn't leave you in total tranquility with misery and agony.....
My heart and love.... it is not me.... it"s you

Scars keep appearing from nowhere.
They keep forming on my legs,
slowly creeping through my veins,
going to my arms.
I don't know who left these scars,
but I think it came from the love  I had for you
well.. I still have the love
After all the embarrassment and disgust you showed me,
I still loved you.
That is what makes me scarred.
After I confessed to you,
you made me into a tool
thinking I was just a fool
that was easy to control and can be misused.
After this abuse, I decide to change my rules
and not be attached to you.
I lured everyone into thinking I was over you,
but I concealed my love that lingered in my heart waiting for you.
I wanted you respond to this quiet call that I have silenced so well.
you keep making me confused by acting like you know me so well.
I have always wondered if you love me or not.
Because your feelings are never abrupt
please.... I beg in secrecy...
Can you please tell me if you love me?
Even though you have always found my love funny
After writing this poem, I sighed and I almost cried.
I just remembered you telling me you loved one of my friend.
Even though I acted like I didn't care.
My heart aches and another scar is made.
Not in my leg or my hand this time,
But right here in my heart.

I am such an open book
I am the same around humans
in church, in school, even in the hospital
I never change how I express myself
Because I am an open book, people take this an opportunity to ignore and obstruct themselves from the the deep and mysterious me.
They never want to go near the boundaries that separates and defines the real me.
Immediately they see the open book, they are satisfied
And then they mistake me as someone with a good life
little do you know about what I face in the dark
The place where trouble of peace lies.
It is so peaceful that I am so troubled
I break into tears because I know something is wrong
Is this a dream or something worse
I know something worse than a dream.....
                       Reality
I have to go back there and be the open book that is easy to read
The smart girl who always whines and argue
I don't want to go back to that
I just want to stay like this,
as that girl who always think and meditates about deep things.
But I have to return to my daily duty
the role I am good at being a rook.
being an open book.