.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...

You left in peace
Left me in pieces
and am just here brooming
the remains of my frail soul
on the floor

i guess poetry can be used
to inspire optimism
and make people feel good,

but i'm looking for the kind of poetry that
eats the air
from my lungs and
sifts my holes
with a fistful of dead flowers.

She said she can't feel her face
Right now I can't feel my heart
For your feelings there's no place
but you knew that from the start

My eyes still burn from the tears of gasoline you poured down on me.

How could someone who have given you so much joy every day could suddenly make you want to withdraw them out of your life without any sort of sirens singing around? When our two worlds collided, they were comprised of a confetti of a hundred different things, some were vibrant reds and others atrocious yellows.

From an outrageous exchange of IM’s, being picky with certain kinds of food, talking about weird teachers, sharing an umbrella when the sun’s out and when the skies throw a fit at us, and you being gaga over your bizarre fantasies that I will never understand.

The things that should have been disturbing to me, didn’t even matter. Because it was you. You were the one who mattered.

Do you remember our first conversation?*

You probably don’t. But, I still do. I was the one who approached you first. But then again as time flew by, I’m always the one approaching you first. But I never minded. I never did because I’ve always thought that it was a thing so superficial and minor that it should not have even been a thing. ‘Cause who the ******* hell cares if I talked to you first? All I wanted was to talk with you anyway. I thought it wouldn’t matter to us in the coming years.

There were those days when all I wanted to do was snuggle up close to my laptop screen and talk to you nonstop about anything left on the shelves to pick at. I’d try to tell you things of my own but you’d always manage to twist it around making every thing else about you a little so suddenly. That never failed to leave me feeling all confused and dubious, though. But I forced myself to believe that I just didn’t know how to converse as riveting as you are.

A handful of people around would tell me that I deserved better. That being with you, changed how I spoke and acted in an unpleasant way. But I thought to myself, “Why would I think that? You are so important to me. I would never."

True. Because hey, you mattered to me. But, why did it seem like I never did, even at the faintest bit, to you? What was the matter with me? Was I completely ****** for being just so comfortable with you whenever we’re talking that I even cuss, call you names and point your flaws out? I never meant every offensive thing that got to my head, though. I just crave for your attention all the time. But you still liked me around. You never showed that you even cared about me acting “psychotically”. You probably even liked me being clingy and needy like the girlfriend you never had.

But, this time… I’ll have to do something for myself. I’d have to stop thinking about what is good for you or for the both of us. I have to let go. I have to give up on the future that we picture ourselves embracing together. You have to let yourself be, and in order to do that, you have to leave me out of it. You wouldn’t want me sticking around. I couldn't stand it too, trust me.

You care about yourself more than anyone. I’m not regarding this in a standalone paragraph because it is the perceivable truth. It is in fact a sad truth but, it isn’t sad for you. You should be happy that you are being well-taken cared of. By yourself. I’ll give you a pat on the back for that.

Giving up on someone does not solely entitle the fact that you are letting go of him or her—or for the best of times, in that matter. Giving up on someone also means that you are untying the chains that sulked the bond between the two of you, and finally, becoming free.

I know what you think, and that you think you  know what you see.
You know everything better than me.
You might be right, but I know that you’re wrong.
I feel the pull, but the pain is small
And all you have to say is: “You’ve changed” - and I hope you’re right
Now flowers are growing rampant in my mind.
Extending my horizon, making me realize that this life is beautiful
That this life is mine and mine alone
That eventhough I’m completely ordinary with crooked teeth and dull brown hair, I’m not hindred from doing  extraordinary things.
That’s what life’s really about.
I don’t need  future plans - which is great, because I have none -  but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want from life.
Call me liberal, if that means you allow me to live life the way I invision
See what’s beyond the flowerbed in my mind.
See the moon from South Africa, Brazil or maybe Tibet.
You should have known that I wouldn’t come back the same that I left
But all you say is: “You’ve changed”
All I can say is: “Good”

Never let her go.
Even if she has the nastiest tongue,
that not a single sentence she speaks doesn't have vulgarity,
but when she speaks those three words
makes the most beautiful symphony.

Never let her go.
Even if she's the craziest girl you know,
that not a single day you spend with her doesn't have her constantly nagging you,
but when she gives you her most tender kiss and her warmest embrace,
melts the most frozen peaks.

Never let her go.
Even if she loves taking pictures of herself,
that not a single day doesn't drown you with her selfies,
but when she gives you her most beautiful smile,
makes the brightest stars go dim.

Never let her go.
Never let her go.
Because the single day that you do,
will make you regret that you ever did.