The air crackled; pre-*** tenses – with unspoken tension between
their eyes;  “please tell me you didn’t.” —a silent pause, “well, I’d
rather not,” he replied, a hint of passive aggression lurking
beneath his own shy’s.

“Can we talk about it either way,” —a silent pause, “absolutely not!
There’s nothing left to say; it’s all over, just like I am,” – he struggles
to find the right words to send her away.

“I refuse to give up, because giving up means allowing you to drown
in your own doubts– hey, it happens; but it won’t change how I feel.
Love is friction, but let’s not compare its love life to fiction. All films
are written, but our lives are unscripted” –

"Let's just promise ourselves to talk about these things"

In these vacant palms — cradled by the essence of my aspirations;
I clung to you with every enduring emotion, trembling and slick
with the weight of nostalgia, far beyond what could be deemed
ordinary, or wise in grasping at faded recollections.

My throat feels parched; I gulped down a swarm of love bugs,
hoping to replenish the affection I’ve lost — lost lovers. My
fingers bear the scars of nervous habits, raw and gnawed down
to the quick; the restless heart fears that the sharpness of love
might not pierce me as it once did.

Would you come as you are, within your soul's dwelling
Muddle of fears, intertwining like roots seeking supply
From hesitant soil – your insecurities bloom like fragile
Petals quietly quivering under the weight of your doubt.

The birds of prey swoop down, feasting on seeds of fear
Growing wild in the shadows, where silence can howl –
Unknowingly scattering, nurturing a garden of unease
Within your heart and mind, their talons gripping tight,
Refusing release

The host: guardian of self, peers warily at their unwelcome
Visitor; an uninvited guest that saunters through corridors
Of your thoughts; no regard for boundaries set by respect,
Leaving behind a trail of dusty footprints, remnants of a
World so careless and indifferent.

Why, oh why, do you tend so diligently to this nest of fear
Within you, allowing it to grow; to flourish, casting shadows
Over the once vibrant garden of your spirit- oh bird feeder?

Feeling a taste of bliss, a heart fluttered
With anticipation in that fleeting moment
Just before our lips met in a tender kiss.

In muted shades of grey, a smile that had
Once lit up your face seemed to fade away,
Almost as though the vibrant taste of you
Wouldn’t taste the same- we’re never the same

As we met, searching for the worth of love –
This love of ours, a love that came with change.

We were laughing miles away from the corner
Of real love, but it was long distance relationship
For you and I; I can only love you from a corner.

Nurturing this futile flame – dreams still linger on my fingertips as  
The glowing embers of thoughts I cling to. Dawn has splashed my
Vision with a fierce brilliance, a splendour now vanished;
Pursuing the fragments of a miracle that among those dear to
Me, I seem to be absent.

All the choices I’ve made; pride eludes me – pursuing paths
Not meant for my feet, lost in the throng All those I wished to
Impress, striving to achieve things that never filled me with pride  
Hearing their disappointment echo in my ears – it stung less than
It should have, for I had long been let down by those I admired.

Yet, I find myself never doing enough; despite all I’ve done to  
Still feel inadequate – I’m beginning to embrace myself more now,
No longer striving to please the multitude of family, friends, and
The few I can confess my love for. I’m discovering the art of
Self-love now.

Stepping lightly on your heart;
creating wounds and those
well-known scars –

Hold your tongue to keep from
saying too much.

Dig your hands to bury your grip away
from the time you could never own –

Erase the traces on your skin,
-those artificial fragments of a smile

They won’t notice your tears, as they never
wondered about the authenticity of your grin.

cracks of silence –
open letter to pain,
closed doors to love
kisses of violence –
tasting it all again

cherubs from above –
devils on my shoulders;
smiles before expected losses
pretend game of true love –
these horns are placeholders
suicidal thoughts in my head
play dead inside – possums.