I just wonder
that when
the
'up'
in wake
is taken away

we might as well
be
some body
locked inside
a coffin--

a
ceremony
held
for our

death.

I have no idea
what's worse:

to wake up
to
everyone
leaving,

to wake up
alone
or

to even
wake up
at
all.

l = df + [(s × p + t) / ( h + d + g )] + (a + u + o)*
                                                                        where*,
df = defining moment, the addend of great impact
s = sadness, a constant, never leaving, never changing
p = pain, the demanding factor, the intensifying emotion
t = struggles, the sum of undergoings, of trials and errors
h = happiness, a variable, unknown, changing, conflicting
d = dreams, an addend of the subconscious, hopeful but not certain
g = goals, a variable of direction, a hopeful assurance of the future
a = achievements, the addend of success, a mark of triumph
u = attitudes, a wholesome factor, an important measure
o = thoughts, the shaping addend, the root of transforming, contracting, making

yes,

I would gladly
give away my life
                         for someone who wants to have extra years;
                         for someone who wants another chance;
                         for someone so afraid to die.

I would gladly
swap my life
                with the dying old man depending on a tank;
                with the hopeful little child suffering so young;
                with the hopeless yet struggling victims of life.

I would gladly
share my extra breath
                          to the guy about to drown;
                          to the girl with mets on lungs;
                          to the people suffocating under their heavy rock.

because

they all seem to need it
                           more than I'll ever do.
they all seem worth it
                           more than I'll ever be.
they all seem to want it
                           more than I ever will.

because

I could be
nothing, nothing, nothing
so tiny, so insignificant
so unworthy, so void.

and they could be
something, something, something
so large, so significant
so worthy, so full.

so who am I
to sit here and be useless,
burying all this from happening
when I don't even do anything?
                               I might as well
give my life away to them,
see them live and do everything
they have been wanting to do
but haven't had a chance to.

our legs have been decapitated
as soon as we saw each other on the halls
we fret, we tense up, we ignore
without meaning to, without intension.

this wall that had been built
was unplanned, was not meant to
it was built by awkwardness
and shyness that stood
as the hindrance
we never asked for.

shouldn't it be conquered
by the favor of talking?
by the mutualness of our beings?
by the expectations of our souls?

but we are cripples
legs leaving us as we meet
crippled by the longing
of the shared familiarity,
of the proximity we had.

we are cripples,
disabled by the things around us,
by the things we worry about
not moving, fixated on the ground
but wholebeingly hoping, entirely wishing.

how depressing could it be
to live as a bubble
you'd be blown into life in a minute
and be popped to death in a second.

we wander freely
like negative charges of a magnet
looking for the positives
to fill the void,
the empty space left hanging

but contrary,
(contrary is what we're always good at)
contrary to the beliefs, to life,
and even to physics itself,
we're the only ones who could fill the void,
the space with so many possibilities left hanging

we're a magnet made to be wrong
the negatives on either side of the pole
attracting no other poles,
no other charges as we realized
there could be no one
but us.