but sayang,
we ain't reading love story,
because life isn't just bout ending-happy,

we ain't reading fictional characters,
because today we are writing our own chapters.

so i ain't coming back,
ain't running back,
ain't looking back,

but i am here trying to smoke my last cigarette,
and how days went by that 'you're my champion' rosette,

because sayang,*
the smoke itself can't prevail the lust to miss you,
even i am indulging myself;
deeper every time my thoughts turn residue.

Your love is an ocean
and I am drowning.

Saltwater stings my eyes
and burns my throat
as I desperately cry my S.O.S.

You pull me down in waves,
my lungs aching for air.

Who knew it would be you
who has me struggling to breathe?

The water somehow calms me
with its silence.

I find solace in your murky depts.
An introverts daydream
all alone in 145 million square miles
of torrential rain
only to share my final moments with the sea.

I sink
deeper
and
deeper
I stop fighting
and let go.

For a moment
I may not be breathing.

The pressure against my chest is undeniable.

I open my mouth to breathe
but I only chock on saltwater.

My lungs fill with tears.

I swear I hear a voice,
be it my oxygen suffocated mind
or you
whispering to me.

You break the ominous silence
with seven simple words;
"Some love is to strong to fight"
and with that
I close my eyes
and
       give
               in
                   to
                      you.

i love you. i do, i really do. and i’m sorry if it freaks you out sometimes, but these feelings are so overwhelmingly strong that it shakes my whole system even after 2 am. i dream of you constantly and it horrifies me because they seem so real — as if i could still feel it, taste it, remember it like it happened yesterday.

i love you, and it’s scary to think that your words can break me anytime, any moment. i am vulnerable to you, and i think it’s both beautiful and sad how i easily & effortlessly gave it all up just so i could be with you. there’s just something — God knows what — that made me want to be with you even though i’m aware that you’re galaxies away from me.

i love you, and i love how i feel beautiful when you say that you are in love with me too. God, you are my favorite. i must admit that i have kissed & loved enough boys to know what brokenness truly feels like, but you mended me just like i’m something familiar, something you’ve been fixing your entire life. it’s a sick, mad world we’re living in, but you make it seem less agonizing whenever i hear you say those three words at 3 am, 4 pm, or 11 pm.

i’m in love with you, and it’s more intoxicating than the cigarettes and the alcohol i’ve taken in my whole life combined, and i don’t even want to be sober. you are the high even without the drug. you are the euphoria even without the ******* (beautiful) fireworks. you are the emotion even without the words.

i love you, and it’s okay if you can’t put it into words — how you feel — because even the silence i spend with you is enough to give me butterflies in my empty stomach. i don’t know what time it is, but it’s past midnight, and i’m still writing about you. i am a mess for and because of you, and my handwriting is proof. you shake my system even when you’re not there, and my dear, this is rare.

i love you dearly, with all honestly, and with all faithfulness. and i can’t help but think about you, every **** day. you’re both my drug and my antidote. my poem. my sunlight, my stars. my soul.

and i hope you love me too, as much as i love you.