tldr

poems contain pieces of my soul, captured by clicks of fingers on phones
the scratching noises within my pen
the giving ups and the starting agains

i wasn’t aware that when i shared some with you
i wanted a piece of you in return
not an applause or a compliment
perhaps an acknowledgement of what you learned

did you feel a melting sensation? did my pain seep into your soul? did you become more educated? did i help you become more whole?

quite literally, my poems are a book,
a journal, a diary possessing bits of my life
moments that cause you to emit a giggle
all the way to experiences i hate to give light

tldr, it kind of hurts
when you ask to go beneath my skin
from now on, I’m wearing a jacket
to keep the careless from within

Life  - Love
Efil  - Love
Ilfe - Love
Ifil - Love

Life fills me.
I have love in me.
We are we.
I am you.
You are love.
Be free.

Searching the whole wide web for my Queen.
           A 100 likesd

A 100 winks
                  
             A 100 waves

                     A 100 hearts

                          A 100 poked


                                A 100 Tweets


                                          A 100 comments


                                                     A 100 Smiles


Have me wonder if my future Queen somewhere deep in my inbox still left unread.

I speak,
you reply "sml?"
I keep quiet,
you ask "why? "

Don't you get it?
Everytime I try to say something
I am afraid
And getting really conscious

Am I not allowed to speak my mind?
Am I not allowed to share something irrelevant?
Should I even say something?

I don't know anymore
I should probably consider you
As one of those "friends" i avoided.

For every "SML?"
In this country
You need to think twice before sharing now
Or rather we should say "SKL" after we SPEAK OUT OUR MIND.
-SKL!!!

Your thoughts are like paint dripping off a canvas
Decorating the floor with your ideas
The reds and blues
A thousand hues
But one color always seems to be missing.

The museum is filled to the brim with your art
A rainbow of pain and love
An ocean of wonder
Every color you could come up with.
All but one.

You paint the sky and the moon
The stars and the forests
You draw out the sunsets and silhouettes
You’ve painted a galaxy.
But you think it’s incomplete.

You are my favorite artist.
I could stare at the pieces you create forever
And hope that I could be the color you need.
That one day,
You could paint me pink.