someday,
my eyes will forget
how to search for you.
my ears will forget
how to listen to you.
my lips will quit
craving for yours.
and my hands
will no longer reach for you.

Don't fall in love with a writer.
She can make you realize
how bare and naked your soul is,
stripped into words,
inked on pages,
read by everyone,
but only appreciated by a few.

Don't fall in love with a writer.
You'll see how she holds hurricane
and tranquility
in the same pair of eyes,
but never learned
to find beauty within herself.

Don't fall in love with a writer.
She can make you realize
how calm chaos can be.
You will see how
she has constellations
streaming down her mind
and somehow, she has created
a space for you among those
cosmic clusters,
being a part of the galaxy
she held within her.

Don't fall in love with a writer.
Because even after
everything is over,
once things did not work out
between the two of you,
she'll still write about you
and your legacy will always
live through words and pages.

you came into my life
and struck me like lightning;
sudden, spontaneous, and gone
in the blink of an eye.
all you left behind was
the destruction of the storm.
i want to come home.

if you are looking
for constellations and cosmos
in her eyes,
you are
at the wrong door.
she's half a hurricane
and half a rainstorm.
she isn't beauty.
she's captured
vividness
in human skin.

looking down
from the top of the world's tallest building
doesn't seem so scary
when you aren't afraid to fall.

I have all of these
unspoken words in my heart.
I wish I could blurt them out.

I write letters and messages,
scripts and speeches,
of the things I want to tell you.

But at the end of the day,
they are tucked away in my heart,
for they remain unspoken.

And yet a huge part of me says,
somehow, somewhere,
I'll let you know how much you meant to me;
perhaps how much you still mean.