the smell of bitter grapes
unwarrented affections
i need to stop letting myself
drown in these things

unfortunately, i have always cared.
you will never see me spreading the secrets you have shared.
though you went and broke my trust,
i simply told myself: "if you really must..."

i was never one to start a fight,
but i admit that i have said some things out of spite.
when you cursed and said you wished for my death,
i felt myself holding my breath.

your hands shot out when my tears fell.
i wanted to tell you to go to hell.
right then, i really wished i did not care,
but intentionally hurting you is something i would never dare.

you held me as i silently shook,
for a moment, i forgot that you were the crook.
am i under some dastardly charm?
why am i crying in the arms of the one who caused me harm?

dampness spread on your shirt from the tears i shed,
your fingers threaded through my hair as you whispered: "i didn't mean what i said".
it didn't stop my bleeding heart,
i find myself wishing i could restart.

if we never met, where would i be?
perhaps, in the arms of someone who truly loved me.
but leaving you is something i'm not prepared.
because unfortunately, i have always cared.

and it was when i realized
that every single person in the room paled in comparison to you
that the colour drained from my face.

ah ****, i was in love.

sometimes, when we speak,
it feels like i am writing a story
that you will never read.

have you grown bored of my content?

have you grown bored of me?

often times
she felt like a splotch
daubed carelessly
with splashes of paint
an accidental smear
in a canvas of his artistry
every intricate detail
resembling a complex puzzle
viewers strived to complete

the art connoisseur cannot help
but stagger back in disbelief
acrylics stained his fingertips
calling her beautiful mishaps
the most wonderous masterpiece

i am so desperate for his affection
that if he held out a cup of poison
i would've accepted it with glee
convincing myself the burn it left
was his dose of warmth for me

boys will be boys
when he pulls her pigtails.
boys will be boys
when he takes away her virtue.

her mother embraces her,
even if out of ten,
she could only score nine.
my eyes begin to burn,
for desiring what's not mine.

i may not be bold enough
to claim that i'd **** for you,
but if you seek proof of my heart,
i'll slice and peel you a purple dragonfruit.

in the end,
my hands will be stained—
not with blood, but purple,
and it would mean all the same.

i do well with criteria, i must confess,
it acts as a guideline to avoid a mess,
i always fulfill criteria with dedication,
to earn your love, my aspiration.

but anxiety takes hold within my heart,
when love is shown without a chart,
without standards to guide your affection,
i question if it's really a genuine connection.

if you were to leave, i'd blame my own strife,
my inadequacy would be the result of this life,
for without criteria to prove my worth,
then i am nothing but a piece of dirt.

i need to stop attaching
your face to love songs
and romanticizing a love
that was never real

unconditional desperation:
like icarus reaching for the sun,
believing his own silly deception
that the both of them could ever be one.

the great civilization has fallen
its remnants scattered all around
as walking corpses roam the living
it dawned on me after a millennium
just how ephemeral human beauty was
time would not stop if i died tomorrow
not even the universe will mourn for me

you call me a coward
for confessing my heart
through a piece of paper
rather than with my lips
perhaps because
ink dries much faster
than these tears do
acetone can disguise the truth
at the tip of my ballpoint pen
and paper may be shredded
for these feelings to not exist

my hair has always been unruly.

i was no stranger to things that are hard to maintain.

so, when you ran your fingers through my head, i become very aware of you.

the twitch of your lips, the way your breath slowed.

is the coarse texture off putting? does it bother you that it's blooming from my scalp?

as your fingers come past my shoulders and to the end of their journey, you stare at your hand, realizing you had tugged a few stray strands that coiled in different patterns.

i held my breath, waiting for the familiar look of disgust on your face.

“your natural hair is lovely.”

my world stilled.

you had my heart in your hand, but did not choose to crush it.

in fact, you even planted warmth as you watered the roots of my rapidly beating *****.

i was no stranger to things that are hard to maintain.

but, oh, how i wish you wouldn't be.

then one somnolent night
she danced under the misty light
her face coated with delight
an escape from her petty plight
reassuring herself it was alright

i rolled my eyes and let out a sigh
a twitching smile i could not hide
as the feeling landed with a smite
it was easier if i just denied
falling in love with her at first sight

and i hate you but
alcohol impairs judgement
now i cannot lie

I never liked how you
abbreviate certain terms,
omit your punctuations,
lowercase your ‘I’s.

I was raised to be scrupulous,
to spell the word as they are,
to add periods at the end of sentences,
to capitalize my pronouns.

Correcting you became a habit of mine,
I rather liked the red flush in your face,
the downward tug of your lips,
how you'd avoid my gaze.

Still, you managed to find a way,
to gain the upper hand,
with a smirk on your lips,
your careless fingers sent:

“ i luv ya ”

With the tables now turned,
a scorching heat spread on my face,
I frowned as I stared at the text,
deliberately avoiding your gaze.

You never had a way with words,
you abbreviate certain terms,
you omit your punctuations,
you lowercase your ‘I’s.

However, i rather liked how it's so very you.

Perhaps, that is why...

“ I love you too. ”

in another universe,
i would hold your hand,
walk around town with you,
and write our names on the sand.

in another universe,
we would bicker over little things,
like who has to wash dishes tonight,
or who gets up when the doorbell rings.

in another universe,
i would savour the taste of your lips,
memorizing every single crease,
as i grab onto your hips.

in another universe,
i would openly stare,
bury my head into your neck,
and do the things i would never dare.

in another universe,
i would make the first move,
pretending i don't really care,
but secretly hoping you approve.

in another universe,
i would not remain in the sidelines,
i'd barge my way into your heart,
dressed up to the nines.

in another universe,
you would spare me a glance,
notice me for a mere moment,
as i leave you entranced.

in another universe,
i would write this poem beside you,
we would intertwine our bodies,
perhaps, even laugh about it too.

in another universe,
i wouldn't wish for the us in a multiverse,
i would embrace you at dawn,
instead of writing this tragic verse.

i chew on the shards
of my broken heart
wearing out my enamels
bleeding out my gums
devouring the pain
slitting down my throat
you tower over keenly
i craned my neck beaming
doubtful eyes swept over
discoloured lips
crimson stained teeth
but a smile is flattering
so please don't fret
you can trust me
i am fine i am okay
the pain no longer fazes me

two strangers
sat in two different rows
watching The Avengers
but this is how their story goes

today, they will cross paths
and catch a glimpse of each other
the girl rushing to finish her drafts
the boy breaking up with his ex lover

two unacquainted lives intersect
waiting for the right place, right time
like a highly anticipated project
to make two random words rhyme

a few years from now, two strangers
will find their lives intertwined by fate
two strangers to friends to lovers
that will become each other's soulmate

right now, they may not be aware
of the resilient red string
that they both share
like a binding, invisible ring

all the stories they create now
they will share to each other later
exchanging "seriously?" and "wow!"
as they take turns to be the narrator

for now, two strangers
sat across from each other in a tearoom
the boy vowing to have no more lovers
the girl creating drafts for her next volume

you don't care
but
it is you i love
i know you can tell
from my gaze alone
now i feel like a fool because
i am nothing to you
i am just a passing thought and
i refuse to believe
that i was good enough to be loved
thinking i deserved such happiness
i detached myself from reality
all along
it is her you love

[now read from the bottom to the top.]

“i want to be the air you breath”
  “it's suffocating”

“i want to be the clothes you wear”
  “i'd feel constrained”

“i want to spend more time with you”
  “not everything is about you”

“i want to feel more secure about us”
  “sounds like a personal problem”

“i want to be loved”
  “you're asking for too much”

i wish i was there when you were lonely.

i wish you knew you weren't alone.

your wife passed, you can barely stand anymore, and your friends are far too busy with their own lives.

who would even notice?

nobody visited often, so it might take a day or two for them to know.

perhaps, a neighbour will question the change in your routine,
or perhaps, they will begin to smell the decomposition on a hot, humid day.

being alone was for the better.

the pain you carried was always meant to be a burden shared by two.

i wish i was there when you loaded the gun.
i wish i was there when the loneliness made you pull the trigger.

i wish you knew i thought of you when i reminiscence our youth.
i wish you knew i thought of your name when i think about my friends.

i wish i was there.

i wish you knew.

in a battlefield
when your mind wages war
against that woman and i
for your heart's commitment
i will surrender this futile fight
for i cannot keep questioning my worth
every time i beg for your loyalty

it's never going to work between
the girl whose love language is poems
and the boy whose love language is
peeling off her prawn shells

she wants him to immortalize her
through words on paper
but he's too busy folding her
1000 origami paper cranes

he wants her to bring him
breakfast in bed for his birthday
but she's too busy quoting love songs
that reminds her of him

there was a language barrier between them

it made them doubt each other

"does he really love me?"
she asks herself as he braids her hair
while she talks about the deeper meaning behind her poems

"does she really love me?"
he asked himself as she romanticized every little thing he does for her
and writes about it

perhaps, she will never know just how much he loves her when he's building her a library for all the books she owns

perhaps, he will never know just how much she loves him when she writes about how days without him felt like an eternity

i worked so hard
just to be an 'almost' version of you.
i strive to be as wholesome,
but i can't fix something so broken.
i strive to be as lovely,
but i am filled to the brim with hatred.
you're everything i desire,
and everything i loathe about myself.

i almost believed

the taste of your faux honeyed words
dripping fron the corners
of your mouth
convincing myself
i was savouring nectar
as i stared into
your bright blue eyes
wet as tar
the hue so innocent
so persuasive
reminding me not to be so invasive

and when you leaned in
to whisper
"the only person i wish to marry is you"
i cant help but wonder
if you tell your other lover that too