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just because
it doesn't leave
a single line
doesn't mean
it's not a poem

just because
it doesn't rhyme
doesn't mean
you're not a poet

because a poem
is not merely
about the style
but solely
about the soul
if you would do anything for that someone
and never ask for a thing in return.
if you’re starting to love their flaws,
including them in your prayers
and fall for them even more
every time you look into their eyes.
if you are more yourself when with them
than you are with anybody else.
if you’re willing to wait
no matter how long it would take.
if you keep on thinking of them,
if you care for them
and if you won’t do anything
that would hurt them
as much as you could.
if you can see yourself
growing old with that person
and put their happiness before yours,
if you are willing to sacrifice everything
just to be with them,
to make them happy,
even if that very thing is life,
**you’re in love.
one night he asked me,
what is acceptance?

and i answered him,
with confidence
and triumph on my face,
**acceptance is one day
you woke up
and it doesn't hurt
any longer
x
the more i get
to know you
the more i realize
i don't deserve you
i'm really sorry :(
i know
i was wrong
when i thought
that your lips
and heaven
are two
different things
there would be a specific time in my life
that your name would still ring a bell
but i would no longer be bothered
because i don't care anymore
i know your name will always ring a bell but i wont listen to it no more
L.
drenched in blue moonlight 
I admired her through
the sheet of smoke
in the gap between us

Carefully I
swayed and our arms
greeted with a gentle graze


"I tend to see the glass as half empty–
sometimes completely."

Sudden words drew me
like water from a well

A cigarette pinched by
the uneven crescents of her lips
pulsated, her sallow face
awash in a delicious red glow

"Either way, it's a beautiful glass,
isn't it?"

time nonexistent
She fumbled another
to a faintly open mouth
I lit it in silence
Waves painted the hull teal
the Sun colored in my skin,
while wind brushed strokes against my cheek

Water, tinged with foam and salt,
splashed my face
I woke up;
there were tears on the pillow
dreams
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