I had a desolate knowingness—
a chrysalis of storm to despair,
a home of ashes and old haunts.

They are all smoke and mirrors.

From all that I had  sought
in distress
should I digress a stress
that you may be distraught
or it would taught you
to see, or to feel
as I stay up with you
'till dusk, 'till dawn.

A ghost you see
a reflection that keep
coming back
lurking in shadow and dust
no matter what the cause,
it wouldn't consume.

Remember when
                     I had less    
                     perception to see the darkness
                     when you take away all the
                     lights as you leave;

You said, you felt
                  nothing more,
                  nothing less.

I deal with daylight dialogues
and night time lullabies
you make them bright and true
suddenly, they become plain monologue
as you drift away.

We feel those changes
as we're not used to live in this
we still hide our pain that manipulates us
we're still on the process of knowing our
disposition and misbelief
against everything,
I choose you despite my fears.

The shapes your memories are
Inevitable,
inescapable.

like the pouring rain
when the skies turned grey,
when the clock turned to 4 o'clock
when those songs resonated.

They got creeping in my mind,
they weree running in circles
and no point at all.

It is a long way process
to see myself, to meet myself
where I left my destructive part

I can't step out of it
but I have to leave.

I don't even see you last night
on those vestiges where I reminded myself to come back,
we're on a same block
but on a different path.

This city and its people
left a sentiments and memories,
little cracks and a stowaway--
An element of surprise.