Born by the spellbound of love and destruction, held like a pretense of heartstrings. Each crevice is traced to you, it is heavenly bestowed.
I was lovelorn, following the trails of this uncertain path engraved deeply that leads to you.

Your eyes were pits of abyss,
a gravity force of unknown,
a precipice before the great fall;
the moment that I found you is when I lose myself.

II. Abyss
And at the end, we'll all just be stories
burrowed in my skin, on each pale flesh is draped with what could have lingered. adorned with a chrysalis on my chest, it cages the hollows of the abyss. Then soon I'll be a fleeting moment you carry in your heart.

There's nothing I can really own,
I ache at something that wasn't mine; no memories to recollect and no sound of voice that I could memorize, not even a light could stay within.

And even the sky changes its color, it doesn't even own the stars.

It was Sunday afternoon, and the time was moving steadily.  
My room is a solemn dusk as the skyline would summon a perfect storm. All I could hear was my blood, rapidly gushing, in a body that is a vessel of momentary waves; and I was idling, holding a ***** cup. Can I still even keep my coffee warm in my freezing hands? Forlorn by the sunlight, torn by a whimsical love.

And yet, I still keep you,
as I search for you on the shelves
as I look for you at the other side of the door.

This room is full of calamity, isn't it?

‘Aren’t you afraid of my darkness, my dear?’ Hades asked with mischief in his eyes.
‘No.’ Persephone replied, ‘You haven’t seen mine yet.’

We've built a house like we recognize each other's walls, we felt safe on every corner where we familiarize ourselves too well; it's the anatomy of us. Our limbs where we cling to were as fragile as the heart I sculpt its own cracks, This body is malleable, it just grew mimicking what the others have— the fragments of what I love, my flesh, my soul and my curve haven't left untouched.

I shouldn't have grown into you, like this body doesn't belong to myself anymore.

he had a special place in my heart, though he had it all.

As a kid, I admired all the celestial bodies that I can put in pages, I can see how the constellations are connected to my veins and how the moon is shaped like your eyes.

The more I grow older, the further I learn to wander in the garden, a wilderness where the islands haven't been named, parallels have intertwined and orbits that have once collided.

Oceans were calling me to test its depth— the calmness of it reminds me of you, the stillness of it brought terror as the deep waters are not moving. you're a scenery in a post card that I could receive but not enough to love me.