sitting quiet at the corner,
my sides became brighter
as you marched towards my chair,
you made me aware
—with how you swayed the strings of your jacket,
and how their knots at the end tapped my skin
—that you were there

it happened on the 8th of eight,
but i'm still bearing the weight of guilt,
when you left a mark in my head
that i will never forget
—you used the word, expensive, love
asking me if i want you to love me

i know i felt excited;
i know you didn't mean it,
i waited for you to take it back but you didn't,
so i made you take back your words,
and there, finally, you said "it was a joke",
somehow, i felt disappointed

was that a decline?
i’m bad at reading between the lines
nonetheless, i’m flattered
you acknowledged,
thought it was a bit vile,
bliss but your wit withal

my friends and i saw a girl,
confused, we continued watching
as love don’t change was playing,
she was probably your loml,
it was public,
i became your side chick

he made me pray,
for once i believed,
someone could make me stay,
and turn the way i’ve lived
but here i am, writing in dismay
and for the seventh time,
i’m finding words that rhyme
these mixed feelings i could hardly say

i thought i made a masterpiece,
but i just ended up hurting my fist,
asking myself his worth,
of the spaces on these pages,
of the ink from my pens,
of the words,
coming from my head

it’s scary how i’m scared
of losing someone i’ve never met
if there’s one thing i do not regret,
it was when you found me,
when i was down and empty.

i love that he is too kind,
and like a double-edged sword,
it kills me in any other way

when he shows it to everyone,
i suffer from jealousy
and when it’s me,
it feels like i’ve won a lottery

now that i think about it,
i’m falling deeper for his kindness,
i’m just afraid everyone would do too

you made it worth it
—the time i thought was wasted
i smiled, laughed with you
while i hoped i was your favorite too

you were intrigued,
i was overly interested,
perceived your compliments
as sweet endearments,
you showed me attention
i considered them as affection,
while you were just being nice,
reminded me how it was

every night, i was full of delusions,
and hopeless conclusions
and if i could wish,
don’t walk away, that is
i should be the one to leave
for i came to you first

i can sense it,
it’s not as clear as when i fell for you
but i know,
i’m familiar with these feelings too
—i think he’s cute, really.

i’m scared of silence
not because it’s deafening
but because i can hear;
the footsteps,
the glasses,
the plates,
and everything else.

you made me a clown
yet i’m giggling now,
my angels witnessed
how my body was shaking
while my attempt was sending
—it was extremely thrilling
and in a millisecond,
you got me screaming,
singing “but daddy i love him”,
i was mad for trying
in the end, i got nothing

once i asked,
the question is still unanswered
but maybe you did,
unsure how i’m supposed to take it

a beggar of your time,
an intruder in your heart
when would i ever hear
the sound of a welcoming chime?

you made me scream,
your name was on my screen
i was convinced you dislike me,
the ignorance in my letters lately.

should i say i was being naive,
thinking things you’ve shared
were for me to receive?

respond to me once,
i could gather millions of butterflies,
somehow, it’s tiring,
but i’m addicted to this feeling

my strangeness is coming to light again
unknown to my own, conceited yet in vain
i was never blind to my own longings,
i know what or who to disdain—my loathings,
but these days,
i’m a stranger to myself

you write feelings left unspoken
of those who were in blue.
i actually write too,
but only when i’m broken.
would that be a zero for you?

am i guilty as sin?
he didn’t write ‘mine’ on my upper thigh
but building up made us feel so high
only in my mind

am i guilty as sin?
i never touched his skin
but we had little trysts
before the sunrise met our eyes

and if “there’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk”,
can i have these fatal fantasies over and over again,
without being guilty as sin?

i was never fond of hugs
even when i was crying my heart out,
even when i needed comfort,
i never asked for one,
for i never wanted somebody’s warmth

but i keep reminiscing that night
when you hugged me so tight
—it was my first time
feeling someone else’s heart
and everything felt so right
that now, i keep wanting to do that
again and again, and again,
i loved being held in your arms
for it was so gentle and warm

and if it’s you, i won’t mind
doing it millions of times

it’s happening again,
sick and crying
is it too much
to always want to be wanted?

it has always been like this
i wish i could like someone
who liked me first
then i don’t have to force myself
into their lives.

you shouldn’t have told me
that i’m important to you in the first place
maybe those words were nothing to you
but you had me hoping for the best,
worst is how you knew it very well
how fragile and soft-hearted i am
that you could break me anytime
and fix me when you decided to

i’m afraid
that at the end of the day
i would still wait for your silhouette
as i eat my comfort food more and more
until they no longer taste sweet
and maybe you’re right,
that’s why you called me crazy
because you knew
i can do things nobody could have ever guessed
that i could come to you as much as how many times you would push me away;
that i’m willing to dry my eyes out hundred more times than the times you made me smile;
that i can run after you until my legs stop working;
and you could pierce my heart
even when there’s nothing to bleed with
—yes, that’s how twisted
and crazy i could be for you

i haven’t even started writing
but i couldn’t think of anything i did wrong
was it when i liked you first?
or was it because you’re a great pretender?
but now that i’m thinking back again,
maybe it’s me and my low standards to blame