Is this it?

The sight of a finish line,
despite all those nights sipping wine,
coming closer.
Has anyone ever kept running even after the race was over?

Is this it?

Echoing in the back of my mind:
hushed denials with each squeezing embrace
Every option leading to a bitter after taste
So I leave these aching memories with haste.

Is this it?

My frustration escaped through exhaled sighs
While you place your hands on my trembling thighs.
Blue, deeper than the ocean, colored our sad faces
Because a orange dream was about to reach its demise.

Is this it?

My heart tries to argue: "It cannot be.
For every end is a new beginning
With a twist of fate's hand, something has to be brewing.
Perhaps lead us back to what was once felt that was lost as of late.
History repeats, a wise folk has once told me, make that brave leap and just keep faith.

Is this it?

Meet me again.
After you close your eyes, please I implore, count to ten.
Drift into a dream and meet me there
Until one day you don't have to close your eyes.
One day we will be nose to nose under the same
orange skies.

Elements to the haze of infatuation:
Embrace.
Admire.
Feel.

Symptoms of the intoxicating infatuation:
Impulsive beyond imagination.
Crazed by the thirst of their attention.
Obsession over pieces of their life Like it were your occupation.

Wonders of an infatuated person:
What is common sense?
“Is it lust or is it love?” questions your conscienous.
Is a love like this eternal and immense?

When the person is gone:
Let go.
Let it live.
Let it grow.
Do more good than harm -
‘Cause life has more to show

Bzzz.
Clank.
Brrr.
Clink.

Mellow lights.
Fizzy lattes.
Distant chatters.
Bell chimes.

Her lips.
The slightest curvature.  
Insuppressable joy.
What is there to worry about?

Her eyes.
Make the sun look like a street light.
A gander like that of a panther when preying.
Does her desire match mines?

Coffee house madness.

A glance, a smile, an embrace, a laugh.
60 seconds and blast off.
Something as infinitesimal as that moment was suddenly the enormity.

From stomach to the noggin
The butterflies went floggin'
With uncertainties.
What do you call feelings such as these?

The mysterious seed grew so fast.
The species became crystal clear
No longer an enigma,  at last.
Nurtured into something beautiful,
Days spent to do so was certainly not futile.

Rest assured, it was no trap.
I didn't dare to look at this like a map.
Pleasant and unexpected.
A joy ride with no absolute direction.

I'm taking a leap into the unknown.
I know the dangers...
But it's the risk I'll take.
I'm not a faint heart.
I'm aware that it could be a mistake.
And it's the mistake that I'm not afraid of.

It's the possibilities that need to be given a chance.
Or regret will fill every inhalation.
Due to the fact my destiny couldve been in a better destination.

Back to square 1.
To where it all begun.
Everything there, nothing gone.

A shade of pink,
Surfacing your cheeks,
Pigmenting your lips,
Warming the palms I desire to hold.
Red Tulips;
Whispered words,
From those two lips.
Surrendering sweet traces in the air...
Mornings that were dismissed
With every yearn for being kissed.
Then there's
Your voice
Composing the chorus of my soul's song.
Light brown,
That epic dermis.
Closely forgiving mines.
With a moment. A touch.
I'm incapable of forgetting.
A cluster of emotions.
A beautiful storm.
She creates chaos
In my world that wants it and lusts.

Stuck in between the
cold white
Blank
Corridors
that gapeseed
Back at me.

The echoes
Of the red arm
Audibly ticking seconds away

A reminder
Time is in motion,
Just like my thoughts
When boredom is my notion.

Suspended in the rays of sunshine,
Cloaked by the warm summer air,
And the cool soothing melodies from the nearby river,
The future was exhausted, running rapidly through my mind.
****** it seemed,
Gazing into the stark silhouettes of the trees &
Dozing into the eventualities of what might lead to those lips for that kiss of the year -
Appearing like a blurry image,
Rippling in the river of uncertainties:
Unclear but the possibilities are somewhat grasped.
I uncross my legs deliberately with the faint realization that I have been day dreaming for the nth time today.

I install myself in between the cushioned seats
Absorbed by the spectacle: a smile splashed across your face as you emerge from the door and through the corridors
Towards me.

The stress that once loomed over me like clouds
Sailed south as you entered right into my periphery
Like how the magnatic mountains stole my breathing capabilities
So did you in a second

I want you to experience the beauty of what is to come
You say loftily,
Inscrutably.
And we traveresed the living room
Out the door
Over the cobblestones
OnTo the stooping hills

Suddenly
We were enshrouded in the mysterious white mist
With white capped waves crashing nearby
Enjoying the serene peace and quiet.
It seemed a little too good to be true.

Showing off that smug look
You quickly fill the empty spaces betwixt my fingers
With a thrill coursing in your blood into mines.
And there we were floating to the top of the world.
Unstoppable.
Immortal.
Untouchable.

Promises

fill the gap of where we are and where we want to be.
The uncertainty is the fuel.
The goals are the points on the map.
And the drive to reach that end
Brings a wild wind whirling in my tracks.

There will be times wherein
A question buzzes in mind
Are the stars lined up for me to reach it?
Or will there be peaks to climb?
Whether it be stars or peaks,
That future will never be bleak.

Because you got that promise
That will keep you
Chasing your goals,
lusting after you dreams,
Craving your success.
It's a thirst that must be quenched.

Promises.

A series of pure accidents arriving with an extraordinary innocence.
An undeniable force.
A feeling of defiance and reluctance to this conclusion.

Vis-a-vis

Stuck in a gentle gray haze of fatigue.
Illusions communing self to the self of the other.
Nothing else mattered.

Vis-a-vis

The road of amusement curtailed.
Reaching the final turn.
Just one more kiss.

Vis-a-vis

Goodbye.

Never
have I ever thought
I would fall from a million miles high,
Falling into those immensely deep ocean eyes

For a long time, I used to let people's opinions void that feeling of being futile; I was so dependent on how they percieved me and let that fuel my self happiness and self worth. But now I realize that kind of "self love" was plastic, utterly unsustainable. There's nothing concrete about deriving happiness anywhere but yourself. The only way to fill that void inside permaently was to live life with acceptance, be grateful with what you have, and have immense gusto for constant self-improvement; be independent from the nay-sayers and stand up to be my own alpha. And that is where I currently am, standing strong and proud to be in my own skin. A happiness derived only from myself.

"Have some fire. Be unstoppable. Be a force of nature. Be better than anyone here, and don't give a **** what anyone thinks. There are no teams here, no buddies. You're on your own. Be your own."

In lieu of the concrete jungle and the smog spitters on wheeles that interpolated -- there was an undeniable buzzing glow of life that reverberated off of the bodies of the youth that fueled the city to life.

It was more than what meets the eye -- a cup of coffee isnt just coffee, its the type of bean and the due process it went through that makes its idiosyncrasies its own. The body, acidity, aroma, color, sweetness... just like that, theres no such thing as anyone being inherently boring. Theres art in every thing. Art instantly turns things interesting. Art is looking at things with rose glasses -- extreme appreciation for what it is and how it is. It sees something more than its worth. It transforms it.

Impacts mold, shape, shift a person like clay.

Each and one of us are the sum of impacts.
How we walk, talk, and carry our heads
Are made up of fractions of all the impacts
Gifted by those who simply exist in our world.

Moments, life is full of it, some so strong it changes your lives forever.

Pivoting moments make a stich of a fabric in which a lifetime of stitches produce a masterpiece - a woven piece of what it's suppose to be.
Each masterpiece special and unique in its own way.

Moments of impact create quality.

It doesn't matter the duration of a moment.
What matters are the feelings felt.
The electricity between our fingertips.
The taste of sweet wine.
Smell of salt water.
The sight of eagerness.

Impacts and moments -- does not fail to make anyone a unique story to be told.

Glamorous promises
Elusive lies
Slip through your lips

A broken sigh
Troubled exhalation
Escapes my lungs

Trembling hands
Pleading touches
Weakens the will to hold

Teary eyes
Realize
Redden with despise

Fluidic hair as the wind rushes
Feelings dissipate
Nothing is left, just expired mushes

The forbidden fruit
Only the courageous will take with a handful
And questions - a mouth full

The wisest man of all Athens once said
Wisest is she who knows she does not know

Every notion of knowledge we believe we have are as faint as the sweet smell of sugar cookies freshly baked a half-mile away
Allow that idea to cloak your senses
Succumb
And wake up that curious child inside that was neglected by the years that aged the body

We were not meant to live idly
No, no one was meant to wake up to be mediocre
To do so is as if one were to gouge their eyes out, like Oedipus, is no different than to gaze at life without an ounce of wonder

Infinitesimal this world is
Aware we know a fractional
Is a insatiable enlightenment
To the apples of knowledge

What about them apples?

Scribbled on napkins,
A relic from that evening,
Memory of the words
Drawled on like the sun setting.

With a gander,
I momentarily lived in the
Earthy brown worlds of her eyes
Resplendent against the orange sheen of the sun.

Reality barked.
It still rings in my ears.
A resonating pain
From a missed memory.

I felt 10 feet tall
As the sun glared its ray
It couldn't outshine the feeling that day
Even the winds whispered it'll be a lovely
May

Beating 100 billions times per minute
That untamed, undisciplined heart of mine
Why must these exciting emotions have to be so clandestine?
Tis the fear of stepping out of line

1000 arm hairs jumped up
At the sight of opportunity
Devouring every crevice in sight as it was a rare commodity
Hungry eyes, relieved sighs, what a joyful monstrosity

We are all but a congregation of molecules.
However, just like the stars, we are arranged in a way for a certain fate.
For that fate determines the celestial that will form in our eyes.

Who will be that person who is willing to go through the galaxy to see it?

I'm preparing mines for discovery.
Working on it to be the best - silently in the shadows.
No one will realize it until a spark flies and a flame prevails the masterpiece.
I'll be the giant star
that all the planets will gravitate around.

And that person who is lucky to see,
Will be cherished like a cold Sunday morning cup of hot tea.

With star speckled eyes,
I looked out to the world,
And inevitably - a monologue with a blissful tone ensues.

"This modern green vista wraps this city like a blanket, holding together hopes and dreams in a bundle...

So stunning,
Dramatic,
Whimsical, even.

Nurturing all its inhabitants with those magical ingredients.
Thats how remarkable people are born.
With an innate bounce in their step
And a spark inside that never goes out.

What a relief.

It was once occupied with the skeletons dressed with pessimism, like the unwanted guests that overstay their welcome, who looked at life bleakly and leaked a dark goo of misery -- a world like the realm of Hades."

"Ludicrous,"
My inner demon scoffed.

"How so?"
I say with an arch eyebrow and a face twisting into bewilderment

"Hades maintained balance. How unconventional would it be for good to be without its bad? That goodie two-shoes over there in a overly frilly white dress, tacky halo would cease to exist without me!"
Taunted the scarlet colored creature, lounging like a king in the warm crevice of my left clavicle.

I nearly spilled my coffee when reality collided with my daydreaming.
Snap out of it,
I say under my breath,
Letting out a sigh,
I brush my bangs back and tucked my train of thought into my shirt pocket.

How do we know what is good if evil were not to exist?
Is evil really a necessary component of this world?
Which raises the question: what is existence? Because without the presence of evil there is no presence of good, so what is there?
What is the concept of reality?

You are the artist.

The canvas represents your life & it's renewed daily.
The brush in your hand is in your servitude.
The current reality and your dreams embellish the nudeness with an array of pleasing colors.
While you refuse to surrender to the gravity of others trying to push your paintbrush the other way.

You have a clear vision.

Lock eyes with life with a fierce burning passion
And don't lose sight with it
Or let a second of it waste away -
Before the silver cord is cut and the golden bowl is broken.

You're fearless.

Your head will pound.
Your arms and legs will tire.
But let this fire warm the blood coursing through your veins
Power you to reaching the shimmering stars
That taunt you at the end of this arduous path.

You will live life to its fullest capacity.

When looking in retrospect
Realize that these moments are counted
Not in how many breaths you took
But in the number of moments that did take your breath away.

Can time cease to exist?
Just for once.

But the ticks of the clock resists.
There's so many moments
That I want to last longer
Then the taste that lingers on my lips,
Like when she walks ahead
And I watch the mesmerizing movements of her hips.
The dim lit room that shows the silhouette of her beckoning hand
That sparks fireworks in my head
Revealing reality is better than my dreams instead.

Why can't time cease?
Just for once.

There was an old picture of me.
Fresh high school graduate.
Long black hair, a naivety worn smile.
Earth brown eyes that have yet to grace the adventures the world will soon prevail.
So young.
The product of a mother's tender loving care
Embodied immaturity before the
Outside forces penetrated the weak membrane.

What was thought to be inevitable
Suddenly became evitable.
The potentialities all there in that small delicate frame  and pink lips, sometimes closed tight, sometimes open to those who dare cross her.
Rationality crumbled beneath her.
And suddenly this march of destiny became a sprint towards a bewildering number of paths ahead.

I peer up from the frayed graphic.
Realizing all that had fallen had fell within reason, no need to grasp.
It made space for the warm sap of passionate emotions pump through me.
Once a demure, reserved, lackluster child
Is now one who holds her head sky high
with a cool whirl of clear confidence.