The pen is mightier than the sword, they say.
Instilling hope, unveiling a curse, she said.
But I am that piece of paper that holds all evidence.
Was once blank space, a clean slate.

Your pen was the one who has shaped
Me as I am today.
I hold your secrets, your love, even in your dismay.

I was once smooth and plain,
But now crumpled, and ruined,
Marked all over with your stains.

But who is to say that everything that was written
Was ever all that bad?
I can hold the key to someone’s success,
I can cheer someone who was sad,
And keep distances close even when they are apart.
A pen and paper is a lovely couple,
It is a wonderful combination for a wonderful birth.
But the two come hand in hand,
You cannot leave one without the other.

Hence, a gift of a pen is a satisfying idea,
But the gift of paper must follow suit.
What is a pen without its pulp,
To record any secret, ideas,
And even to instill hope.

You know how a certain scent can bring you back to a certain memory?
I guess that's why people wear the same perfume.
They want to constanttly be reminded of that time, place, and maybe even person.

But I can't do that.

I can't continue living in that past when I know that it will never be in my future.

And that also explains why I change my perfume every so often.

We are all broken souls,
Finding light to fill our void.

We are all broken hearts,
Finding love to fill our lives.

We are all broken bones,
Finding time to heal our wounds.

We are nothing but broken people,
Left stitched, scarred, and bruised.
We are always finding ways to find ourselves,
Which eventually leads us back to You.

When I think of your name,
I think of the word "safe".
Because that's how I feel about you.
You are safe.

Safe for me to be with,
Safe for me to confide in,
Safe for me to tell all my deepest darkest secrets to.

Coincidentally, that's the number of letters in your name.
But so is the word "risk".
But you are one risk I am willing to take.
You are the one risk that makes me feel safe.

I can't really pin point exactly where I get the inspiration for my poems.

Sometimes when I am with friends in a crowded place,
Sometimes when I am alone in an empty space,
Sometimes even when I am swamped with work and reaching their due dates.

But I never thought that I would be writing about you even before we met.
Because sometimes, maybe it is all just up to fate.

Someone as golden as you,
deserves the sun and moon.

Someone as golden as you,
deserves the sky to always be blue.

Someone as golden as you,
deserves to be engilded with rays of sunshine that flowers wait to bloom.

Because someone as golden as you,
brings out everything in me too.

Every master was once a disaster,
Every champion was once a player,
Every expert was once a beginner,
Every writer began with a pen and paper.

But with every poet,
it started beyond letters, words, and sentence structure.
Every poet was once a dreamer.

Writing lines and lines to their heart's desire.
Filling pages and pages of books about the world around him or her.
Telling stories about love, hate, and sometimes even power.
Because poets need not only write about a lover,
Sometimes they wish to empower and be a mover and shaker.

Poets wish to change lives, turn hearts, and nourish minds,
and mostly to make the world better.
Poets wish to write knowing that they have somehow made a difference in this world,
and let their words be their witness in the Hereafter.