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rm Nov 2018
we had our
own stories
to tell,
own roles
to play,
own songs,
to sing,
own music
to create,
and
we have
our own
lives to
live.

those stories,
remarkable memories,
will remain as
beautiful, extravagant,
and distinct constellations

after that
there live mistakes,
regrets, sins,
and mischief.

those lead us
to sharp, hurtful
edges,
it makes us
want and clamor
to rewrite
our ties.

but,
i suggest
we make
another story
from the stars
we've used
so far.
rm Nov 2018
during this
lovely epoch
she so seeks,
from those
wistful streets
she walks with him
she hears
the sonorous,
imposing sound
of silence.

with each words
resonating
within their
inner selves,
after every step,
indulging
such ephemeral
such denouement
they've long foreseen.

she was too
nefarious
for this man
made of
flowery words
sly actions
and
warm hugs.
rm Nov 2018
on that night
with winter
winds,
hums,
and miserable
breeze,
there he sat,
his eyes
wandering
from right to left
up and down
all around
corners to corners
branching
a thought
to another
a note
to a song
a word
to a poem.

him with his
glances,
stands
and built,
under that
moonlit sky
with starlights,
air filled with
warmth and
frost,
i witness his
cries,
heard his tears,
felt his fears.

i became
an overthinker
from worrying
about the other.
rm Nov 2018
she was an
ailurophile
he was a
cynophilist
now,
how come
she likes him?
and
he likes her?
when both
can only offer
the opposites
of the other.

how did they
find such
unraveled red
knots?
when they were
too twisted,
too unread.

how were they
able to say
that they liked
each other's
symphony
with wafture
of those warm hands
reaching for such
woebegone faces
with little traces
of summery
and misery.

and finally
how can she
and he
stay with each
other's plea
in a world
full of
uncertainties?

if they could,
and would,
they are pyrrichs.
rm Nov 2018
well,
what do we
have right here?
that is him
of course it's
him
whom i saw
leaning on
the frozen walls
seeking
thinking
looking
hearing
the incorrect
the imperfection
and pure
imagination,
untouched truth
still lingers
within her
liking
loving
him
were all
that matter
rm Nov 2018
we had our
ups and downs
we fell and we dropped.

we understood
we fought
we cried
we made up
we laughed
and we
loved.

yes, we did.
something's off
isn't it enough?
being honest,
yes it is.
being truthful,
what's with
this sad truth?

is it me
or is it you?
did we both change,
or it's only me?
who's trying to conceal
her facade, he can't fathom
her sorrow, he always show
and her tears and sobs,
that he can never see,
never hear.
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