That girl sitting there
is a beautiful tragedy
her mind is an aghast
her body
is her grave
her bones
ache
while her throat is being strangled
whats wrong with her mind
cant ever be untangled.
she,
is a beautiful tragedy

I was born from a storm
destructed from flesh to bone
beautifully perched in a cloak
in arbitrary, it was a dysmorphic view.

"How have I morphed into this?"

And all the skeletons in my closet seem like a myth hanging around in a locket, I gave you a thing where I put my little heart into it. I've gained in my drastic, obnoxious change.

This love has morphed differently within me, heaven struck, caught up by the heights of my devotion, laced with enchantment. I speak your name with longing, as if my words were haunting interludes, in the cacophony of souls whispering a multitude of wishes to a body that once lived — an old figure of myself.

I have never known love at its awakening; To a mere happenstance, it unfurled in the simplicity of side by side walking through the streets, picturing each shared memory at every corner of it. Like we are the side story of someone else who has been on the same spot of the coffee shop, little did we know that we always share memories for someone else to tell.

Have you ever memorized each word that I said that day, from the first time we met, from the way I said each syllable and how I forced myself to not stutter? Although we cannot recall each scene day by day, what matters is that I always remember each fragment of our memory each time I say your name.

It's like a collision, but it's a peculiar one. It is perfectly meant to meet each other, like it is measured accurately and approximately. But is it really worth the time?

From heaven and hell
or simply I could tell
a labyrinth where I fell
and begged in a
cathedral that I've built
to woe my insurmountable grief
to forfend my undying love. and thus, my love grew as my abyss.

My love has been slipping beyond my grasp, as if it's the faintest light in a lone island I reach in between the gaps of my fingers. In this mere happenstance, you are my greatest expedition that would be written in pages; A conquest that no one could ever have, I was a ticking bomb waiting for the fall of promises that were long drowned at the sea I called "you", a silent yet vengeful endless depth, I named it as my territory, a catastrophic dream, in an afternoon storm.

exhausted, I bend to kiss
the burning dark,
I find your lips
blinded by this cold eclipse.