We are lost souls.
Finding comfort with the common ground
Of being lost
Would we find our way back?
Would we even find the right way?
Or have we already found it
When our lost souls collided?
Are we still lost
Now that we found each other?
‘You just love that word, don’t you?’
‘What word?’ I ask as I pulled the pen up
From your skin
But my hand lingers
You smile. *‘Lost. You like the idea of lost.’
I also like the idea of you
Sitting thisclose to me as I
Scribble on your skin
But ‘It looks appealing.’ I shrug
‘Not having any idea where you’re heading to is appealing?’
I explain that being lost
Is not always worrying about
Having no sense where you’re going,
It’s also letting go to see
What could be path could be lying
Ahead of you and thinking
Whether you’ll go or stay or
Look for another way
‘Like the road not taken?’
‘Or somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond.’
You grabbed the pen from me
And held my hand in place
My heart tries its best not to burst.
It’s not our souls that are lost
But our fragments, it scattered
Throughout places and our souls—
Our souls are bound to find it
So if my missing piece
Falls in you and yours in me,
We are bound to collide,
Bound to see and realize that we
Are not as lost as we ought to be.
Oh but I am still lost, I thought,
Lost in you.

‘Milkshakes remind of that movie.’
I took a sip of chocolate milk
And nodded
‘The street poet part?’
‘Sweet cakes and milkshakes,
I’m a delusion angel’
‘I’m a fantasy parade,
I want you to know what I think,’
‘Don’t want you to guess anymore’
I swallowed.
I don’t think that I’m ready to tell you
So I stall. ‘Swap?’
Tall milkshakes glasses slide over the table,
Across from each other, straws plunging in
I took a sip of vanilla and you took more
Than a gulp of chocolate
And I wanted to think that
You might like chocolate more
Than I like vanilla
But then maybe not.
Because what I feel feels
Much more larger than you
But just the thought of
You liking me too
Has probably woke every single sleeping neuron
In me.
The waiter sighs, thick-crust pepperoni slides over
You offer him a slice,
I offer him an apologizing smile
He shrugs, taking both.
And we take our first bite
Simultaneously
Pepperoni, mushrooms, bell pepper, cheese, sauce
Hitting our taste buds at the same time
And we chew in content together.
I would never want to miss
A single detail tonight
And I wouldn’t want even this
Tiny feeling exploding in me
Right now to be forgotten
‘I think this pizza deserves a poem.’
‘I’ll grab those napkins and ask for a pen.’*
And we wrote our undying love
as one.

‘Can I launch the 20 Qs now?’
You laugh and you tell me that you love it
That I make you laugh and you add ‘Yes. Fire away.’
I wanted to keep you laughing,
To keep you happy
Now that I discovered a bit of Why me?
‘Are you on ****?’
You laughed. Harder, this time.
And I noticed that it’s because I love
Seeing you laugh—that head thrown back,
Loud laughter spilling from your mouth—
That it’s enough for me to want to
Keep you happy.
‘Maybe,’ you grin.
I stiffen, indignant. ‘You could get us killed, lunatic!’
(But then, if you do,
At least I’ll die with you)
‘Well, I wouldn’t blame that on the ****, love.
I’ll blame your PJs for that, so distracting.’
Playful slaps on the arm,
Half-feeling sorry for myself and my
Finn and Jake pyjamas
Playful pouts and rubs on the arm.
‘So where are we going?’
You tell me that you haven’t figured that out yet
And that if I had something in mind, you’d be open
‘My mind is wandering off to the land of milkshakes.’
‘My mind would love to wander off to the land of milkshakes with your mind.’
I laugh and tell you that that reminds me of Cummings
And together, we chorus
‘I like my body when it is with your body.’
Until we reached the diner with a CLOSED sign hanging
‘Should we grab a crow bar and break in?’
Your laugh vibrated through the cold, silent air
Before grabbing my wrist and pulling me back to the car.
(I had suppressed the thought:
Please don’t let go ever.
To the dark depths of my mind)
‘How about 24-hour pizza?’
‘Had me at pizza.’ I grin.
‘I know.’
And I know, too.
I fell for you.

Phone beeping, scrambling hand
Click. Says 'Hello?'
'Hey, it's me.'
Head meeting the bed dashboard ‘Ow—‘
You ask if I'm okay. I winced, No
But quickly amended, 'What's up?'
You laugh and you tell me that you're
Standing in the cold, outside my house.
I panic.
‘Yeah. I don’t know why. Can you possibly come out?’
I wanted to tell you that you had me at Hey
But I wouldn’t want to scare you away and so,
‘I’ll be down in a second,’ I scramble out of bed,
Out of the room, down the stairs—as fast as I can to
Fulfil the second I promised.
(Also, because I wanted to see your face at once)
The doors creaks open; I step out into the cold
‘Hi.’
I breathed.
‘Hey.’
You breathed.
The obvious question unasked was asked.
At 2 am in the morning, you tell me:
‘Let’s drive.’
What, Why, Where, When, How—?
You must’ve sensed the 20 Qs about to spill
From my wild, raging mind because
‘Come on. Hop in. No questions.’
But
‘I want a late night, okay, morning adventure.
We’ll be back at six, I promise.’
‘Why?’
More like, Why me?
Because I just want to know, really.
The question was thrown over the bridge
As you opened the door of the car
For me
I told you that this better be good
But then I know that it would be
Because I’m going to be
With you.
Car door closing, engine starting.
Our late night adventure beginning.

this time,
I have one goal in mind:
to see the sunrise.
I have waited, waited, waited
for hours in the dark
and I just wanted
to see the sun
rise out from it
slowly,
within transitions of
vanilla dawn--
a swirly mass of blues, whites,
purples, pinks, oranges and yellows.
my test of faith came
at four a.m
that clever hour of
coolness, tricking the body
to curl up and
sleep.
but thank God
I resisted
(although I admit, I closed my
eyes for a minute)!
so the yellows and oranges
slowly burst through
the mass of lonely
black and blue
and I'm overwhelmed by the
questions of day from
'when do the lamp post lights
turn off?'
to
'am I as ready as I prepared myself to?'
then I figured that
sunrises are as
lonely as
sunsets because
the world does not change
overnight.
but it was still changing (or maybe
it just feels like it)
to see the sunrise,
to catch the faux hope
that comes with its light.

If I would have
to write your name
a thousand times,
I would.

My hands would
tire and cramp---
but it would be
a pleasant cramp. A
pleasant
tiresomeness.

For your name is pleasant
and it would be
too much
of a
pleasure
to write it
a thousand times.

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.

I love how quickly we just fell into place
like nothing happened,
like a year of nothing, a year of void space
didn't get in between.

I love how natural we can be
after that long miserable gap
and how I know I should feel
a little pretense--a tiny fakeness
but there was none of it.

I love how easy we fall into step
like we've been swaying to the same song
a thousand of times
in our shared separate universe
with each other--like we never even left.

I love our alternate universe
and how it still existed
waiting for us,
knowing that we would fall
like missing puzzle pieces
and it did fell in the right places,
making it seem whole.

and I love how the continuity
of what we had and now have
felt infinite and somehow real
and promising and that the idea imprinted on
a beyondness in the future.

but I do not love
how I could not forget
how I was left expecting
--no, assuming of what could've happened
on the miserable gap
because I am afraid that it would've changed
every. little. thing.

I do not love
how a simple little thing
stood between us like a wall
that got thicker and thicker,
piled with red hard bricks
and along the linings of our hearts,
a tinge of uncertainty had ensued.

alas I do not love
how quickly you bounced back in my life
thinking you could just walk into that wall
without even asking, without trying hard
you crossed that wall that easy
like snapping your fingers
or clapping your hands.

I do not love
how you chose now instead of then,
instead of yesterday,
or the day before that,
or the month before that day
or the next day when you decided to disappear.

and I do not love
how quickly I let you in
how I decided that i should still hold on
how I responded, shaking off the hesitation,
brushing off the doubts,
letting you fill me again
with that light only you radiate.

my love for you is an idea
brought forth by a collage of ideas
pinned on a bulletin board
built with long, late hours at night,
in a tiny chatbox of mutualness
vibrating hope in every ping!

those ideas of starry escapades,
pizzerias,
ice creams and waffle cones,
and coffee when it gets sleepy
the very idea of you
just kept me wide awake

but that bulletin board
of fragile hopes and dreams
broke! it's post-it notes fell
freely. lightweight paper scattered
on the floor getting stepped
by the feet of reality

the hot-air balloon of idea
landed finally on the ground
unsafe, breaking
because it shouldn't have left
it shouldn't have been ignited
it shouldn't have flew

all of you I've loved
is an idea
I built so bitterly
for you made no move
and I made no step--
a tragic idea, indeed.

get me a rope
and I will tie my neck
hang it on the ceiling
and then kick off the chair

get me a rope
and I will tie my neck
and I will fall off limply
and then I will be dead

get me a rope
and I will tie my neck
and then I will not suffer
your unrequited love again

get me a rope
and I will tie my neck
I hope you will not scream
as blood oozed down my head

get me a rope
and I will tie my neck
don't cry-oh no! don't.
just know it's all your fault

get me a rope
and I will tie my neck
I will be forever dead
leaving you eternally haunted.

I have no idea why
I always feel like
I'm struggling--
to do something,
to feel something,
to achieve something
when all I wanted
to do,
to feel and
to achieve
is
breathe.

tears are
heaving down on
us, a
never-ending
depression that the
earth experiences; a
rapid
sorrow
that eats up and lets
out a shattering
remorse filled with deep
m**alevolence