though blurry
I see you clearly
under lidded eyes
is that such a surprise?

and your eyes half-closed
you lashes grows;
inch closer
i see further and further

------i am drowning
but why is that a good thing?
i still see you with my eyes closed

                       (**** the distance!
                        **** the cold!
                        no to resistance!
                        just be bold!)

oh dear, I am overdosed.

It
Might seem like
This could be
An end
To the greatest adventure
Of my life
But every good
Thing knows
It’s actually
The beginning.

I think you gave me
too many signals
and I just
blinked
right through them.

I.
The first time I tasted alcohol, I thought that it reminded me of you and how it burned my throat and left a firy tang on my tongue that can only be resolved by drinking more.

And by the end of the night, I was drunk enough to be aware of nothing but you.

II.
But on days I crave awakeness, you reminded of me caffeine. Wherein just the mere mention of your name shoots up my nerves; awakes my brain, keeping me alive, tingling and insane.

And by every wake of dawn, I only know that I am craving nothing but you.

III.
Oh but **** it. Be what you want to be. **** my senses, wake it; either way, I know I'll be ******.

Because either way, my love, all I really wanted was to drink you up.

Question: If you look back at your life from this point, what do you see?

Answer: I see the constant struggle of figuring out who I am; the many successful attempts at please people; instant coffees; notebooks I didn't finish; the wish to reach the point where everything is better; the need to run away but can't; waiting, waiting, waiting.

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.

I will
Still remember you
As the rain
My eyes, my heart, my brain
Poured out.
(Leaving me empty
And dry.)

you come
and
you go
and
you come
and
you go
and
you come
and
I'm sorry,
but who are you
again?

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.

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.

Time is falling dead
and everyone has flies
for an attention span;
the need to get out
throbs painfully
in every still-breathing chest
and
get out of there, will you?
Go.
Run.
Flee.

Talk to your heart
and ask it where it wants to go.
If it tells you to go to him,
don't.
Stall.
Stall long enough for
your heart to ache.
Then go.

Grab him by the pulse
and run.
If he hesitates,
let go.
If he asks you where
you're going,
say, the stars.
Say, the planets.
Say, the Restaurant at the End of the Universe.

Hope with all your heart
that he changes his mind
and grabs you, instead
and takes you there
himself.

you are like
this
bitter medicine tablet
that I keep
trying to
swallow
but keeps
coming
back up.

and all i want is
just a quarter of time,
       a quarter of feelings,
       a quarter of smile.

       a quarter of recognition
from your deep blue eyes;
       a quarter of look
that says 'hey you. be mine.'

       a quarter of space
in your beautiful heart;
       a quarter of second
in your passing thought.

i don't ask for a lot because
i know you can't give all you got.
so really, i'm okay with a quarter
i'm sure it's better than never.

‘This night/morning doesn’t have to end,’
Car door opening, car door closing
‘Unless we want it to,’
‘Do you want it to?’
Blinking eyes, bitten lips
*‘No. No, in every possible way.’

I still love the rain. (Just as I still know I loved you.)

Cut my veins open:
Go on, Bleed me dry.
I want you out—
I want you out of veins tonight.

I am going to drain
you out of my system
which hasn’t been functioning for
so long, too long.

You no longer keep me alive.

You are poison and
you are going to get my
heart clogged; my
brain dead;

I am going to burst
I am going to die
I am going to get you out
of my life tonight.

I'm in love with you.






(And that's why I am trying to come up with 101 ways
to **** you and make you suffer over and over again
through poetry.)

"I'm not the one who needs saving!"
--in many ways
you
are
right.
Because
I am
the
one
who
needs
to
be
saved.

I have always wondered
about how people in love
folded themselves
upon each other
that  it doesn't feel difficult
for them
nor suggest difficulty
to other people's eyes
until now
when you placed
your chin upon
my shoulder with ease;
now
when you hugged me
from behind,
your warmth radiating over
my body and reaching
my cold, cold heart;
now
when you started
whispering
over and over words
that used to
not mean anything to me;
I know now
how everything seems--
sees, hears, smells, tastes and feels--
easy and God, just wonderful
to  have someone
to fold yourself
upon.