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adshimabuko Nov 2014
seventeen,* because i hate that ******* number
because you didn't know that
because i never had the guts to tell you
because i was afraid you may have thought it was stupid

seventeen times i've stood under the falling snow thinking
<< if a snowflake falls on my nose i will speak to you>>

the air so thick with loneliness
my hands are getting stained and all numb because they miss you
because they miss us

because they will never have enough fingers
to count to seventeen
and they cry because they miss you
because you never made it to *March 17th, 2012

only a day away from having our first date

even after we'd been in love for four months,
our first date.

and you never made it.

& i hate it, i hate it,
i hate it, i hate it,
i hate the number seventeen,
because it was too away from your birthday,
and so close, to the first date
we will never have.
adshimabuko Nov 2014
There are no words to describe what we felt
and no money in the world could ever afford it

there are no trains to lead you there
and no plane ticket avalible

the are no pop up messages showing on your iphone screen
and no everlasting love letters

there will never be enough sleep
to dream that feeling

there is no hope enough in the world to bring something back to life

there will never be a place
where we may meet again
adshimabuko Oct 2014
don't pretend like you know me
you haven't been around in a while
or a month
or some years
I can no longer remember how much
i think i miss you sometimes
or the essence of you
or the memory of you
or us.
i said,
'i think maybe we were meant to be
but somewhere inbetween
the field of daisies and
wishing on dandelions,
we did something wrong'

you said,
'we forgot about ourselves
and our old selves'
and the silence at 3:01 am
seems somehow to connect me
with the parts of me that i lost
trying to find your smile
they connect me to the day
when you said
'things will change'
and they never did


so don't pretend that
you do not miss me

when the particles of dust
fly from your old couch in the afternoon
like if they were parts of my soul
**that are not yet done
leaving your body.
closing time.
adshimabuko Sep 2014
E  v e r y b o d y    
judes, even the ones that say they don't
because it's not okay
I mean,
aren't they already judging for not thinking it's okay?
who  first said that judging is wrong?
If no one judged
where would we be now?
maybe i'ts not so bad.
adshimabuko Sep 2014
Over the course of three years
I've learned to love,
lose and let go

A week to love, a day to lose; two years and eleven months and two weeks and six days to let go

or pretend so

You've become my most avoided
daily deadly thought
and the distorted remains of your voice
my most hated mainstream song

My hands have turned into new borns
for never touching since you left

my heart has become
a clockwork one
so tired of not being able to heal
it's own **scars
adshimabuko Sep 2014
I've been crying since the day
your tongue turned into
a stage of dancing lies

my hair pulled back
to hide the smell of
dead thoughts of us

of how leaves look prettier
when they're dead in autumn
of how I would be prettier
if  I were dead too

the way your fingers lit in passion
whenever we touched
the way your fingertips sparked the fire
of cigarettes smoked to the bone

I remember the smell of your hands
danger with a glimpse of loneliness

I liked it
I loved it

The day your tried to bottle up
all the love I had for you
and the glass didn't resist

the day I stole your gun
to make you say you loved me
the way you took it from me

the way I understood you'd never catch
the stockholm syndrome from me

I'm sorry
I'm so sorry.
adshimabuko Sep 2014
Seventeen times I’ve wished for you to look back
Check your rear view mirror and find me there
In the exact same corner where you said
“I don’t love you anymore”

I will never understand why you said
That you woke up one day and didn’t love me anymore
I mean, the heart does not wake up one day and say
“I won’t beat again”

You can only imagine how bad it hurt
When you used your brand new Cadillac to roll over my heart
And crashed it ruthlessly
I’d have given anything to pretend your body was what rolled over my heart instead
In the dangerous warmth of my parent’s bed

I’m still battling with the memory of you saying
“Not eating the first slice of bread is like judging a book by its cover”
I wish I could forget it, I really wish
I knew I’d fall for you as soon as you finished that sentence

I avoid watching the clock two times a day
Because I’m afraid that I’ll keep wishing for you
At 11:11

I hate how everybody says “it’ll be, if it’s meant to be”
But sometimes, it’s not

I have a secret envelop hidden behind my new photo frame
With all the things I never said to you
And every holiday I’d try to burn it
It haunts me still

I keep searching for your face in the crowds
It’s like you’re a lost child
A mother never found
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