That's the most painful thing about missing people.
The void they leave inside your chest aches through the proof,
That at some point they used to make it whole.

make love to me,
in the open and vast spacings.
grass beneath my skin,
stars before my eyes.
make love to me,
through the sense
of great inevitability
incapable of avoidance
as the flow of waves at the sea.
as such, please let your fingers be.
make love to me,
till the moon sets to again as it rises.
and through in betweens
a star would come to fall,
the same pace my chest falls
underneath yours,
as i catch my breath
and wish upon that star
for you to never stop nor pause.

a bad habit
of loving people
who doesn't love me

I was once your home,
but you burned me down

you're dangerous, too dangerous.
i whisper to my heart almost everyday,
but continued to adore you anyway.

Maybe it wasn't for me.
But, what if I wanted it to be?

I have made you my home.
My soul rested through you.
So when you left,
I was more than just homeless.
I wandered.
I was lost.
And I am still lost.

If you have lost your home,
You have been searching for one,
*In the arms of the wrong one.

fingers trace
the trails on my skin
your hands used to make,
used to take

ghosts of touches
nostalgias of caresses
hands driven by despair
have endeavored to redress

a body,
self intrinsic body
yet every inch screams you
*made of nothing but all taints of you

I wanted you
Like how the sun,
Wanted to shine.
It doesn't have to.
It shouldn't have to.
But it does.
For it is as inevitable,
As the sky above you,
And fated to do.
Like how I longed for you.
Like how the sea,
Longed to kiss the shore;

Again and again,
Endlessly again,
It should happen.

The world has continued to turn.
Some lives have gone by. Some have just started.
Not long before the sun will wake and put darkness to sleep.
Flowers from buds have now bloomed to beauty.
Leaves have dangled for quite long enough
until it fell.
Hot coffees have turned cold.
Rain from heavy and loud has now turned to soft hushes.
Stains on a white shirt is now close to fading.
Everything seems temporary.
I dont know about my love for you though.

my tongue in your mouth
the only place i would want
nowhere else but that

I miss what we had,
And I wish I could take it back.
But life,
Sometimes doesn't work like that.

A love for you, like how flowers are,
They may wither to their deaths,
But their beauty in my memory
will never die.

Loving  you without knowing the reasons,
Have been the hardest dishevelled mess
My mind have tried to fathom.

Until you left
And not knowing which things to **** to stop doing it,
Have not only been the hardest, but the saddest thing.

we're all just people
with bad habits and addiction
one of two
between a drug or a person
but either way
*both bad and dangersome anyway

And I will whisper everyday,
Hoping you would hear me say,
Let go. Jump. It's okay.
Don't be afraid.

How long will I wait?
Will it be until my hair turns grey?
Or when knees have grown far too weak,
To take the same steps,
You're taking towards me.

How long will I wait?
Will it be until my eyes will fail to see?
You, finally coming home to me.
But for you wear a beauty, eyes like mine,
Made to know you, are never too blinded to recognize.

How long will I wait?
Will it be until my hands have started to shake?
Through the long endeavored touch of time,
That has grown to ages,
But are never too shaken,
To hold what they have been long waiting.

How long will I wait?**
Will I be strong enough to hold on?
Will I still live to see?
Or will I die with nothing,
But lost hope and all just waiting.

The only thought I could ever decipher when you left,
Was that maybe I wasn't everything,
But I could have been.

Pen in hand,
Paper underneath,
Different strokes, but same thoughts
To scribble on the new empty sheet.

His name depicts every words,
That's made to prevail in this world,
For no thoughts her mind could muse,
But his face alone, so bold.

She could write a thousand poems,
And not a single one of them,
Could mend the pieces of her heart,
He had torn into shreds when he left.

because though we were perfect,
it was time that wasn't.

We used to kiss to stop time,
*Now I live in fast forwards.

To have a heart like hers is curse,
how to stop when it is a must,
has never been known.

And often times she have prayed and asked,
for it to finally grow as tired as it was with pain,
as it should be as tired as it should also be with love.

I have lost a part of me, that wasn't even mine.
Something i deemed, i did. But never actually have.
And that is what takes the most to mend;
the part of you that is broken,
as also the part you do not know where.