deep, it's way too
deep to sink it,
way too inconceivable,
way too much
to comprehend,
to understand,
to interpret,
what those words
meant
what those phrases
were for
was it something
to be hated, or
adored?

now, what do i have
to feel
from this surreal
sensation,
way too superb,
absurd as it is?

those phrases
was it to hurt me?
or encourage me?

thus,
t'was meant
for nothing more
nothing less.

was it he
or is it her?
there's nothing
more
she can infer.

well, he, as always,
has all the freedom,
unbroken wings,
untamed boredom
from some
thoughts,
yes, "some"

but what about
"she?"
it was he
him, all along
now, what's this for?
basically, she's torn
is it her,
was it she,
is it him,
or he?

it contradicts
how every word
he says
how every definition
he conveys
can't come across
can't guarantee any
applause
from her heart
driven with
insanity,
less clarity,
false truth
wanting a glass
of vermouth.

even if
the stars can't
grant
my wishes

even if
superlatives
can't stitch those
broken pieces

even if
freedom
can embrace those
lived boredom

i still care
for this pair

i still live
for this "she"

i still thrive
for whatever it is
that he will leave
behind.

of course
it comes
and it goes
leaving you with
multiple scars
multiple marks
but less pain
less happiness
less dainty as it is.

of course
we are free,
we all are
though some
might have
borders, boundaries
oh, for all i care
everything seems
lifeless, all misery,
trickery and
fair and square

i may have been
too dense
to notice
i may have been
too incompetent
to absorb
that it was him
then and the day
before.

a person of truth
my cure
innocent look
devilish book.

a person of kindness
too soft
too subtle
too hard to
tell.