Have I left it too open, my window
For you to see the inside?
—A room, full of thoughts,
Crafted by my spiralling mind;
A bed, full of love,
Overflowing,
from an oversharing heart

Would you go inside?
Would you ran far?

Tbh I left the curtain half drawn

I hovered above us
Trying to capture the whole scene
Legs trying not to shiver
While you’re planting kisses,
exploring soft, uncharted skin.
Out-of-body experience,
Floating right there,
I envied myself for a second,
But your anchor-like hands
Managed to drag me down there
Eyes meet again
Making me face them
My nonsensical thoughts—
My fear, my desire to stay—
The closeness of my thighs
To your lips.

In my headphones
’My favourite faded fantasy’
By Damien Rice plays—
Spare souls— one or two broken hearts
and Me, once again,
Waiting for a bus,
to take us away.
Flickering lights,
And 2 am’s old friend,
Cold.. so cold.
In between a heavy silence,
And pity stares,
I can’t help but compare,
Peacefully silent, you
warm and sound asleep
In your room,
A 5-min walk,
right around the corner.

You were just a cold-blooded visitor
Experiencing the warmer microclimate
Of my heart

I strip myself.

Bones, soul and flesh.

I got on the scale. Check.

I’m way past my ideal weight— again.

I guess no amount of exercise

Or calorie-deficit diet would do

Because I didn’t account for

how many calories memories use.

Well, since I’m in no heart-diet,

I can afford to have a few—

So go on,

Add some extra kilograms to the soul.