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

little balerina
glides gracefully with ease
the soles of her feet bleed
but her smile aimed to please

little balerina
each twirl immortalized her
prancing around me like magic
everything she does is a blur

little balerina
i can see her smile wavering
as she dances with such splendour
around a truth she's been denying

little ballerina
such a beautiful form of art
but it's time she accepted now
an end that broke her heart

as i reached
and stroked your hair
untangling the knots
watching you stir
eyes closed
lips parting slightly
i realized how comfortable
silence was for us
how a caress to your skin
agitated my heart
and i think i've grown used
to loving you like this
loving you in silence

i wish to melt into you,
like ice does in a cool beverage.
slow burning into you one droplet at a time.

but to dissolve into someone would mean losing the form i once was.

what will be of me when i am no longer solid?
when i give you everything that i am and have nothing more left to give?
what happens when the drink that we are becomes diluted?

what happens when we are no longer as sweet?

will you love me less when we turn bland?

when the thought of us becomes far too hard to swallow?

and everytime they hurt me,
i try to put myself in their shoes so much that my toes began to throb, and the scabs that haven't had the chance to heal began to bleed once more.

i tried to walk it off, i really did try.

it made me wonder how they found the strength to walk away from everything and how their feet didn't burn from the friction of it all.

but grief is not just unexpressed love
that the living never got to share.
it is a feeling that is never lost,
a love that will always be there.

how can something so profound
be reduced to words left unsaid?
it was real and it was experienced,
it doesn't end with the dead.

no revenge,
because how could i put you through anything,
when you were once everything?

“i wish i can be as happy as you 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲”

“be happy 𝐧𝐨𝐰”

you are always leaving me
yet waiting is what i do best
i collect every fragment of you
and let it fill the void inside
but remnants are never enough
is it wrong for me to desire?
to talk about our future together
as you lay under the rubbles
of your ruined past?
i am no virtuous saint
but i want to leave this hell
yet waiting is what i do best

the smell of money
pass the fusion of aged oak and amber
almost leaves off a scornful stench
pretentious by virtue of their existence
but, lately, i have been so lonely
that the smell of money
subtly reeks the odour of  𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦

when i see how wide the ocean is,
how many things left that hasn't been explored,
how shallow my feelings are in comparison,
how i wish to detach from my empty shell of a body.
i want to walk forward until it consumes me,
until no air can reach my lungs,
and when i feel the pressure pulling me under,
i will not thrash or wave my arms up in the air,
for i want to be one with the blue waves,
i want it to drown out my thoughts.
i want everything to end.

she was smiling
because the egg was
perfectly cooked
the whites are firm and creamy
the yolk is barely runny
her culinary perfection

i was smiling
because she was perfect
the way her eyes are sparkling
the way her dimples deepened
the way she warms my heart
my lovely perfection

a mermaid perching on a rock
in the vast but forlorn sea
salty tears trail down her pale face
her weep seasoning the blue water
and burn the slashes on her face

perhaps i should have not stared
and let my heart pulsate at her song
seducing me into her pool of sodium
pulling me under the ocean floor
alas, sending my lungs aflame

now i drown in her reservoir of pain
as she carves her scars on my face
still, i am charmed forever to believe
she was stealing my breath away

and when i told him
just how beautiful he was
tossing a pomegranate seed in the air
and catching it gracefully
between his rose-coloured lips
it seems the pomegranate juice
had temporarily stained his pale cheeks

i broke one of my vases the other day.
it was rather simple in design, modest.
its shape unassuming, its colours muted.
but it broke me just the same
to watch it shatter into a million tiny pieces.

as i knelt beside the scattered fragments,
my hands trembling to gather them,
i realize how alike i was to the vase;
how little i must have mattered to you.

when you broke me into pieces,
a nonchalant sigh escaped your lips,
hardly fazed by the accident.
you hummed a tune under your breath,
your mind already drifting to other matters.

why would you dwell about something easily replaced and forgotten?

why would you dwell about me?

you are the sun in my vicinity,
and i am the venus that orbits you in an elliptical path.
all the planets are drawn to your gravitational pull,
and you have so much influence on every single one of us.
i am tired of being compared to a star.
you are so much greater, that my disappearance would only be a mere disruption in these delicate balances.
i don't matter enough to have my absence render a whole system nonexistent.
i am the closest planet to you, but i will never be as big, as bright, as significant.
i will always just be “the closest planet to the sun”.

and me?
i was the dust accumulating on a book he once loved.

unobtrusive in nature, but ubiquitous all at once.
a small presence that often goes unnoticed.

when he reaches for the book, i will linger on the tips of his fingers for just a moment, filled with a fleeting and embarassing sense of hope.

the hope that he was actually reaching for me.

i think about ending it often.

ending the friendship that burns me out.
ending the relationship i am falling out of.
ending the pain of it all.

but ending it would mean the end of something else.

the end of us laughing in your mother’s car.
the end of you pressing your lips into the palm of my hand.
the end of all my undiscovered tomorrows.

i find myself wishing for an end that wouldn’t quite end at all.

perhaps, i was just like the little prince,
romanticizing a person i never even knew.

"spend all the sunsets with me," i convince.
"spend it with me before we're due."

the truth of the matter is,
in the little planet where she resides,
i cannot simply convince somebody,
to make room for me inside.

though, perhaps,
i was also too young to know how to love her.

death is quite the beauty, is she not?
in choked desolation, we yearn her
a lovely coquette to our misery
until she closes in to the innocent
and becomes an object of our scorn

so, we boycott her dreadful existence
cursing when she calls out our name
for life who we cherish so fondly
but for death we do not do the same
letting her drown in a reservoir of loathe

if death was ever personified
she would live her life a social pariah
as the world tries to nullify her worth
tainting her dignity with pure disdain
in such dolour, even she yearns herself

i am but a monster of hate.
the thought of myself makes me deflate.
the quieter it is, the more i think.
in the silence is when i begin to shrink.

nobody fears a monster so small,
a monster too scared to take part in a brawl.
one day, i was greeted by a friend.
i start to wonder what will impend.

my friend really wanted me to come.
come and join his other friends to watch him play drum.
the thought of their attention on me makes me quickly say "no".
deep down, i just know how it was going to go.

at my response, my friend got upset.
i didn't realize then how much he hated me yet.
he told me bluntly: "i didn't want you there anyway".
and the truth of it all destroyed the rest of my day.

i am not very expressive: when it rained, i hovered my hand above your head as we ran for our ride back home; that was the closest thing i could come to a confession.

the fuzz on my face,
the rolls in my waist,
i'm sure you'll find ways,
to capitalize these distastes.

i am a little stray cat,
far too small for you to see.

food is always uncertain,
even when i'm full, i think about hunger.

here lives a million humans,
but i found a lovely one who notices me.

and if i could be hers,
i am finally seen.

i know two girls shouldn't
but
we held hands
when i walked ahead of you
in a crowded room
as i pulled my gaze away from you
you squeezed my hand and
i believed we could be possible
for a moment

i was far too old
to ask my mother for an embrace,
to be cradled in her arms,
as she moves a strand of hair from my face.

i was far too young
to know how to love someone older,
the thought of commitment scares me,
i cannot fathom the promise of forever.

sometimes when we're together in bed
and your eyes begin to flutter shut,
i think: how could i possibly have lived a life without you?

now as i put you to rest,
and gently close your wrinkled eyelids,
i think: how could i possibly live a life without you?

when i cried as a little girl,
my mother used to tell me
that i had no reason to cry
if she had not laid her hands on me yet.

now as a big girl who feels so small,
i would let the tears burn my eyes,
for the only pain that is real and could be felt is physical.

her eyes glint in the sunlight
a beautiful, profound blue
something warm lingers
a spark within me brew

when she stares up at me
my cold cheeks heat
as dark wisps of her hair
dances in the breeze

she was a bright starlight
racing down the night sky
in a bright, brilliant arc
making hearts all around sigh

i find myself chasing her
i really had no shame
because at times like these
i was a moth drawn to a flame

i question this feeling often
is this love at first sight?
or was it an obsessive attraction?
maybe i was just lonely tonight