It's amazing how your words,
simple they may seem,
make me speechless.

It's amazing how your words,
common they may seem,
make me feel very special.

It's amazing how your words,
true they may seem,
make me want to stay in a dream.

It's just amazing that even your words
make me feel so loved.

Yours is the kind of love I once wished
The feeling that favored not just what I can give
but who I am - light and dark.
For years, it didn't change.
Instead, it grew stronger with every spark.
It's ever beautiful, peaceful and mild.
It's what I can call mine.
It's what I can call ours.
We may be apart but ours is the feeling
I'm quite certain as I am sure.
For you embedded my heart with words
that bring warmth like the sun's rays,

Avec vous, toujours
With you, always.

He knows I'm not perfect.
He knows all my flaws too well.
He knows there's a void in me no one could fill.
And yet he chose to love me still.

I write for the words my voice left unspoken.
I write for the feelings my heart didn't show.
I write for the tears my eyes never shed.
I write for the things that never come to light.
I write for the version of me that I put aside.

It's either you let it go
and forget about it,
or you get it back
and fulfill it.

I just wish you did the latter.

You are like the Moon.
You reign over the vast sky,
shining brightly, radiating beautifully.
And I feel like one of the Stars surrounding you;
loving you dearly in silence.

As you became my night's dream,
you felt real.
You were real.
Your gaze; your smile.
Your warmth; your touch.
Your voice; your breathing.

I reverted back to reality
with my heart pounding, blissfully beating.

Then I gaze back at the Sky
patiently waiting for the Moon
--patiently waiting for You.

You captured my eyes,
my attention.
Now, you're slowly capturing
my affection, and with that,
my heart.

I won't mind if you'll forget
the little things I used to do
for and with you when I'm gone.

Just remember me in your heart.
That's more than enough.

Like Sunflowers, your presence is bright and warm.
Like Sunflowers, your love is soothing and sweet.
Like Sunflowers, your embrace is home.

And then he asked,
"What are you looking for?"

And I said,
"I'm looking for someone
who can give me thrills,
the roller-coaster adventure kind of feeling.
I'm looking for someone
who is romantic but not boring;
witty but not loud;
smart but not arrogant.
Someone who is everything you are
BUT NOT YOU."

Tik Tok
says the Clock
with all the memories
forgotten and left behind.

Lub Dub
says my Heart
with all the affections felt
for the memories left.

I know my heart.
It's been bruised and scarred and shattered.
It's already too tired but it never ceased to believe, hope and love.
And that's the pride I can give to myself.

You, to me, are the Sunrise.
A ray of new life
A chance to change life.

You, to me, are the Sunset.
A streak of colorful hope
An anticipation for tomorrow.

You, to me, are the 24 hour prime.
A refreshing thought during the day,
A pleasing fall back at night.

It's guilt. Maybe, it's pity.
It's a shame when you love someone like that.
Out of courtesy though out of line,
as you think you owed it to them at one time.

You can't say the words.
You can't even whisper some.
In fear you might hurt
he, whose heart is in line.
You ended up keeping it all.
Ignoring that you're already lost  the heart you own.

You think you're saving yourself but you're really not.
You know you're digging deep for yourself to rot.

It's been so long since the last entree
I've been stuck, lost my scribbled sheets
my mind is empty but fully chaotic
of words unsaid, unwritten, undone.

Can someone reach out?
I'm drowning, falling deep
I'd like to be saved,
I'd like to be spared,
kept safe in the midst of crowded lies.

My soul is caged,
locked down by frozen dreams,
******* by unfinished poems,
tortured by crumpled music notes.

I want to be free;
where my pen can write the words,
where my lips can speak rhymes,
where my heart can finalize songs.

When I write, my feelings are bare
Showing skin and colors
Stripping naked like the breezy autumn air.

When I write, I'm torn between a lot of things
Just like the innocence of a child being corrupted and tainted by what the world brings.

When I write, I feel like a warrior equipped for war
And the armor I have are pen and paper.

When I write, it feels refreshing
Just like the break of the dawn, full of hope and sun rays gleaming.

When I write, I feel closer to you in every turn
My words are full of passion and never afraid of getting burned.

I feel numb.
I can't feel anything.
A poke from a needle, a cut from a knife
Even a hole from a broken glass and all the sharp things in life

It all started when I pricked my finger from a needle of a spinning wheel
Or was it when I took a bite from a poisonous apple?
Maybe from the moment I exchanged by voice for something dumb
Or was it when I chose to give up my freedom because of a rose?
Perhaps when I broke my glass slipper and did nothing
Or was it when I rubbed that fake genie lamp?
Perhaps when I laid down my hair for someone to climb
or was it when I aimed my arrow at a torn tapestry?
It could be when I kissed the wrong frog thinking it was a prince
Or was it when I tried to be someone else to hide the real me?

Alas! Indeed, I almost forgot.
That it was when I handed you my fragile heart.