unsaid
goodbyes
are the
hardest,

waiting
to hear them,
is the
longest.

the thing about sadness is
it’s like a thick rain cloud
clogged inside your throat
blocking your breath,
your words,
even your screams.
you want to melt it,
get rid of it,
but it becomes bigger and bigger
choking you further and further.

but the thing about sadness is
when you finally surrender and bask
on its harsh downpour,
its painful drops
will help you grow,
will help you rise,
will help you heal, until
the suffocating cloud
finally bowed, finally bowed.

and the thing about sadness
being a dark rain cloud is it’s
living in a fading permanence.
it will pass.
it will fade.

but you, you are the sometimes defeated
yet always fighting sun.
you will rise again and again,
until no cloud of pain remains.
until no cloud of pain remains.

no, it will not be about
the moon,
nor about the sprinkles of stars
shining so
soon,

when the queen sun slowly
sinks,
sinks,
to her grave called
western horizon,

i will give
thanks,
thanks,
for 'nother 24 hours
of millions
inhales
and exhales,

and for my existence's
unknown reasons.

staring at
the hanging abyss--
a chandelier
of constellations,
made of
sparkling stars so
out of reach,

i wonder how
many times i
have tried and
failed to teach

myself on how
to never wish  
upon people's false
promises,

for expectations only
left me with bruised
broken heart, void
of love's lasting
traces.

sometimes i am a
relentless, untiring, wave that
ebbs and flows to the
shore, back and
forth, back and
forth.

but today i am
transforming and
evaporating from the
sea to the sky, yes, i
have surrendered and
turned myself into
a possessive sun.

kindness and
love are now my
rays that  i won't let
you kiss and have
anymore for
i am tired, tired, tired,

of going back
and forth, back
and forth without
receiving what i
always give.

bring on the rumbles of thunder
rolling,
rolling,
from the outer space
towards,
towards,
the earth's tamed and untamed maze.

bring on the sharp lightning
striking ,
striking,
from the hands of the Supreme
towards,
towards,
the human's vision streams.

come, come,
heaven-made catastrophe,
bring it on,
bring it on.
for in the loud throbs of
your anger's noise
i calm and silence
my own inner chaos.