We lost ourselves in each other.
I can't stand on your two feet anymore and I can feel your heartbeat clearly.
Do you feel mine?
Because I don't remember breathing.

She ran into the forest.
They detested her,
even if she just did her best.
She found a spot, under a tree.
Dots of silver teased her,
"Come, see me."
With sweaty hands,
she picked with a swift gesture.
She held, it collapsed,
"What could I've done wrong?"
She took another, this time with caveat.
Still, it fell apart, in a usual format.

"Am I that destructive?"
She asked herself.

"No. Look."

The steady beads of pearls were, dancing?
Piles of rubble lifted to the sky,
like stars in the early morning.
The wind lingered, blew them quite gently
Magnificence is painted around the vivid scene she's seeing.
She inhaled every beauty.
Then, exhaled every shattered dream.

"You're right, whoever you are,
There's still beauty in breaking."

There once was a boy who loved the moon,
He wasn't liked the rest.
For him, the girls would swoon,
Devotion proved a test.

The girls would come and go,
All with broken hearts.
"I hate you, boy" he said, "I know",
Bluntness was his art.

Then she came and made him feel,
He knew it'd be his doom.
But when they kissed, it felt so real..
He considered becoming a groom.

Then one day she decided to leave,
The boy didn't know what to do,
Without the girl he couldn't breathe.
He thought she felt that way too..

Finally one night, he figured it out,
But it wasn't something to boon.
He was sure, without a doubt,
She was the girl who loved the moon.

There’s a place on my neck that he used to kiss. As soon as his lips would press against my flesh, and his breathing would echo in my ear I would go numb in the best of ways. He would run his fingers through my hair and silence the demons that hide behind my eyes, only for a moment, but a moment was just long enough for me. I miss those days when the sun was up, but we weren’t, when my hair would fan out across his chest and his fingers would trace lines across my hips. I never understood what it meant when he would cling to me like he was poisoned and I was the anecdote until I was the one who was gasping for air and he had already slipped away. I crave him like I crave the breath of smoke in my lungs after I exhale a drag from a cigarette. He’s far away now, off in his own mind even as I sit beside him. His eyes rarely find mine anymore, mostly because that’s where he read the “I love you’s” my lips could never form. I never wonder if he misses me because I’m too afraid to find what the answer could possibly be. No matter how many hello’s follow the most certain part of goodbye is the underlying tone that means it will be forever.