if only my pillow could talk
maybe then, you'll understand me.

i dared to reach through the pockets of my jeans
only to find my phone
our song suddenly played and your name popped up on the screen
i hastily blinked my eyes, pushing back the tears, locking them all away

pressing declined, i've had enough lies
i can see it all seeping right through your teeth

as you turn your back and started to walk away from where i stand
salty drops trailed down my face
my love for you flows to my veins
but yours began to vanish like the waves

seated at the backseat with our song on repeat
she reached for a stick inside the back pocket of her faded denim jeans
i heard a familiar flick sound
only to see a lighter on her hand
silence fell upon us
not knowing what to say, i glanced around
trying to find an excuse not to continue to blatantly stare at her
still, she is all i see through my peripheral vision
savoring the smoke,
letting it all fill her lungs
puffing,
inhaling
yes, a stick could **** sooner or later
if no one dares to stop her
but what if she's already dying inside? or what if she's just doing this to fight the demon who made its way inside her soul?
chained her heart,
no plan of letting it go
i may have seen her burned her throat countless times already
yet, it still feels like the first time her thin lips pressed against the filter
how i wish it was my lips, instead...

if i were you
i wouldn't fall for a poet
they may be good at making you feel overwhelmed
they can make you fall through their actions
but they'll make you fall even harder with their words

falling for a poet is quite easy
they say,
they're gonna be spending a whole day
pouring their heart out
while tapping their pens rhythmically
with trembling hands
as they write about
your date nights,
movie marathons
and play fights
it will all be written on a piece of paper

i am a poet
i can make you experience life
in comparison to a rollercoaster ride
through poetry
i'm a woman of many emotions
you'll sometimes get confused
about how my brain ticks
i'll write about
the car rides under the stars
and under the city lights
i'll give you the sun,
the moon,
the universe
name it

i'd offer a blank page
and every stanzas
only for you
word per word
line per line
will be spoken with emotion

in photography
every moment was being captured
by the photographer
as well as in poetry
your actions towards a poet
could mean a lot
you'll be surprised
i write
even the heartaches
you have caused
so i wouldn't forget
the pain you inflicted
but i'd still thank you, eventually
for it wasn't for you,
i wouldn't be able to write this

as i bleed my heart out on this keyboard
you instantly flashed in my mind
my face in between your large hands, as you started to lean forward making our forehead's touch

i do not write for you,
i write about you
more importantly, the little things you do
like how you rests your hand, particularly your right hand on my thigh or how you'd take mine and press them against your chest while whispering to me how much they made your heart race

i remember how childish of us to pass a stupid crumpled note
back and forth
just to exchange i love you's
but i love to watch that smile slowly stretches across your plump lips

we're tangled in the sheets, strong arms wrapped around me
it certainly felt like home
your scent sinks deeper into my skin
i hope you don't see my hands reaching out just to touch yours

i'm running out of words
i think you have given me enough to write about that even flowers grew on paper