if you
find yourself
constantly trying
to translate your soul's
language for them
they're not the
one for you.

sometimes
love can be
incredibly fulfilling
and intensely emptying
at the same time.

i wonder
if it's him i hate or
the way he makes me feel.

there is poetry
in the way the tongue
falls in love with the body

and there is poetry in
the way the body yearns
for it every time ever since then.

you and i
we'll move on
and forget all of this.

and maybe we'll even
find whatever it was that
we were looking for elsewhere.

and perhaps
we'll understand
why it ended the way it did.

but what we had
was precious and it'll
always exist somewhere.

in dying leaves and
the silences we shared
and maybe, the moon too.

run away
from the
pretty lies
the in-between
fake promises
the guilty
eye contacts
the half-hearted
apologies.

the thing
that upsets me
about people is that

they mistake
ashes for weakness
and i find it ugly because

when i bloom
i rise from the ashes
regardless of their oblivion.