Would it be nice
If I have a chocolate cake
Placed to my casket corner
Red wine in its side
And while wearing a birthday suit
You are singing a lullaby
Would it be nice
While laying on my favorite bed
On the second day
You're having some cups of tea
Reading my last poem
And would it be
Nicer
If
I
Was
Born,
A furry cat

Let's die tonight.

lights flashing from the outside
the moonlight ignites directly
to the jalousie
where I can find his pretty -
senseless face
I stood,
walks beside him.
and hear him chanting his favorite lyrics,
his favorite song,
his comfortable voice.
with his hands on my thighs
mine on his inked-arms.
we drink,
dream, watch the night.
save tonight
‘cause tomorrow
I’ll be gone.

there's a nightmare with
the touch of yours,
grinning to my skin
yet the note of your voice
could dry the atrocity
of my soul.

you see,
bended knees at twelve
buckets of liquor
and doubts
they see,
love was just a sin
and only just for two
but still,
why the heart
let to cull a two

As I lay alone
at the edge of a blue covered bed,
two index finger dancing in the air
I can see around me,
there's a thing
who finds a way
how can I see myself
surrounding with delicate flourish flowers.

Infectious diseases
are destructive
like muddy people
bandage with
decorative gift wrappers.

As I watch the stars disappearing
from this wednesday night sky
I see you
Like the rainfalls
Lingering every inch of my deepest skin,
Embracing the cold through the hardest bone,
The optimistic tone of every drops that reaches my ears to sing.
I'm out of tune
And even we are sinking beyond these imperfections,
You are perfect
And
We are one.

for the most wonderful scars
who is actually grieving.
let the ocean take us away from reality,
let's dance to the fantasy
like this would be our last
and though all I can see is lies
with your beautiful eyes,
it doesn't matter,
for me,
you're still perfect.

A full load canvass
Carried with pain and sorrow
Yet has lovely smile.

warm weather
brighter sunlight
unusual but
yet typical day
different kinds of
music to hear
but I can sing no more
can't utter words
but much phrases to speak out
the awakening tweets of the Scorpions,
are the only sounds to tell out.
And darling,
sorry, if I won't see you
tonight.
Maybe
this is not the time,
for us.

We are drunk
High
Unconscious
Things are great in our eyes
Fingertips in my back
That was good
Catching breathes
In your ears,
Slowly and
We are here.
Those arms
Wrapped in you
You're so close
We're very close
Dancing
In flames
In love
Heaven.

Keeping away my feelings to this man
Every time when the appearance of his pretty face will coming up to my mind and the
Vulnerability is hitting me down just like how the sunset goes down - beautiful but sometimes it's painful and
I feel so close but
Never to his arms.

Altering my days every time when thinking if he's having a good day or not
Breaking my heart when he is having a stomach pain he took of alcohol last night.
Rainbows, sunrise and
I could go on and on but I'm
Getting lost with my coffee
Once he start heading in my head in the middle of the night.

I like you,
I love to be with you
And be one of your masterpiece
but no,
I can't be beautiful
I admit it
like your artworks,
like your tattoo
or even like your smiles.
But I want to,
terribly,
I always wanted.
**** it,
We are good.
but not good enough for you.

Everyone will only
get ******
with your burdens
'cause they
don't like to be
that toxic,
like you.
lucky.
welcome to the world.

when the time
came up to you,
and realized you have
biggest load of sin,
I will pick the best song
for you to sing.
I'm going to listen to
all those burdens
until you cry to sleep
and make you a
sweetest coffee
for an ordinary morning.
Painful
but atleast
you know,
even those things
that I'd always love to do.

You're about to lay and rest and
I'm about to keep awake.
You, to dream of her and
Me, to think of you.
While walking under the moon
Waiting for the right time, soon.

But looks like I'm just like a woman
Hoping for the stars to come
In sickness
Of rain in july.

Two days before the year end
Two years ago you're wounded
Three hours of healing with hard drinks
and one whole day of starving
back then.
It hits you fast
and back thrice.
Isn't it good.
To see you two days from now
getting ready for another rough year,
holding words;
holy mother of all cats
I survived.