I'm stuck.
I'm stuck in the past.
No, not 5 months ago nor 5 years ago,
But 5 hours ago.

i was an ocean of emotions;
deep, wild, and uncontainable.
i used to think that i was cursed
to live in a small vessel
with such humongous core.

us.

if i were a thing, i'd probably be a puzzle.
the one wrapped in plastic,
and smells like a fresh one.
a puzzle that's always challenging,
the one that attracts people's interest
but not everyone could solve.

i drowned myself in sorrow just to talk to you
but you were quiet.

it confuses me
every time people say
their monsters live in their head.
so,
why do mine live in my heart?

your life must be interesting
that you can't control your beasts,
and you blame others.

I've been trying to erase you from my mind,
But I'm scared now that I almost accomplish my goal.

I was there
Throwing matches on the bridge
Without lighting them up.
Thinking whether or not
I could handle the fact that
I wouldn't be able to cross over if I did.
But as the fog cleared up
I could clearly see you
On the other side,
Pouring gasoline.
"Burn," I said,
So we could dance
Near the fire
On the long, cold night.

Maybe you were right
That I was naive for thinking that
I could go days, weeks, months, years
Without your heavenly fingers
Dancing on the side of me I can't see.

the thing about scars is that they will heal
if you stop scratching them.

may you find golden bars
in my silence.

"You are my moon
Which keeps me company
When I am alone
With my thoughts at night."

I remember your eyes lighted up when you said that.
I remember the feeling I felt the night you said that.

And I also remember
The days you turned into a cocoon.
The nights where I only focused
My lights for you; to keep you warm.
So you wouldn't feel no harm.

Then you came out of the shell that kept you hostage.
Right away, as you were free, you asked about your age.
I whispered that you weren't as old as you thought you were.
You sighed in blue, changed your color, and stopped your prayer.

But I am still the moon
Floating with my tune.
So don't reach me with your balloon,
Just stay there in your dune.

"write something about me," you said.

"i can't. i can only write when I'm sad," i explained.

"that's sad," you said,
"you won't be able to write for the rest of your life now that I'm here."

oh, only if you knew i wrote a lot about you, i could make a book.

your eyes have been as blue as the ocean,
with thoughts that could break the walls down.
with your feet wandering backwards,
your hands reached the ghosts
which you got rid of once.
your tongue coldly murmured the curse
with no exceptions for those you held close.
wanting the sun and the moon to transpose
with mind wishing for creatures of doubt.

The world is spinning,
The crickets are singing,
The sea salt is climbing—
What a beautiful morning.

said you craved the touch of my hands,
yet your body's carved by others'.