this is the
hundredth and
two

a poem about
me and you.

suffering, crying,
and hyperventilating.

from the sound
of the unwanted
truth.

hoping that every
sound, words, and
flickers,
would shine light
to what we had, we have
and we won't have.

and yes
this is the hundredth and
two,
and here i am,
saying
i love you.

on a wednesday
yet saturday
or whatever-day
he went somewhere
far, too far
he drank somewhere
far, too far
dark, too dark
far, too far.

he needn't have to ask
just tell
but,
why lie?
oh well.

far too evil
yes,
too evil.

wordless,
deaf,
and cold.

she thought
it was a hundred
and eighty degrees turn
but
it was a three hundred
and sixty opposite turn.

he did
and
she did
parallel music,
parallel art,
parallel mistakes,
yet perpendicular love.

...remarkable day
...nothing's left to say
...it's been done
...i finally see
...what i feel
...we became closer
...more than ever
...then we loved each other...
...we lost our "forever"
...full of regrets
...yet full of sentiments
...forlorn goodbye
...my friend
...my lover
...my rainbow
...and my sorrow...

she tried to understand,
even if it meant nothing
to that person,
knowing
everything's
a given,
"a...given."

this event severed
her.

this event killed her.

The unseen picture of Christ lies beyond my own imagery
The Phantom of the Opera of everyone’s dreams
The sweet mother in labor of my infancy
And the righteous guide of my infamy

With him are the Angels of the heavens
The spiritual guardians who guards us twenty-four seven
The winged creature who dances along those dazzling seasonal winds
That covered my dreams with lights of dim

The spring that flower and fly, the rebirth of love
The summer that warmed my dream, the youth of love
The autumn that rained the picture with leaves, the adolescent of love
& the snowflakes that blacken my fantasy, the death of love

Those four seasons of love that crushed the idea of eternity
But with God, forever you live, soul in state of serenity
With the Angels and Christ, you’re free
of dreaming your own dreams and fantasies

as for someone
who is never alone
but always is
as for someone
who is always messy
but never is
as for someone
who is never silent
but always is
and
as for someone
who always love
but never feels he is
i witness how your
eyes say your mind
and how your body
says you're not.

let's simply pull
all remarks
all misunderstanding
and turn them
into happiness
that's so far...
never ending.

let's push our limits
and become the unwanted
by our ancestors
but kind of people
our innerselves clamor for.

with every word you say
and every note i sing
will always bring
us with "yes's" and "no's"
but maybe "do's and don't's"

"before"
i was doleful
in one way
or another
it is he
who i prefer

i was willing to
die in the arms
of an angel
or an impurity

i was living
with my eyes close
mouth shut
ears are deaf
and
music? "dead"

i was out of it
life's a bore
nothing's all you'd ask for
life's so lifeless
all you'd get is stress

"maybe a daily dose
of inspiration"
(says a friend)
would work

summer and barren weekends...


"after"
i met you
under the autumn trees
you were beautifully made
musically gifted
mentally capable

i heard you
your words
talks about how
i should accept
"before''
and never clamor
for arid days
never seek
for stark bleak

yes, i was afraid
i might fall deeply...
deeper than what
i can handle
and contain
deeper than what
i can say
and digest

love in the winter...

"now"
our journey begins
my love,
towards each other's
heart
towards each other's
hands

our love blooms
in winter
and might die
in summer

BUT, let's
thank and love
every piece of us
every breath we take
is now we make.

she wrote a poem
then...
about him and her
she was befuddled
baffled
she was explicitly
in love with them
she was uncontrollably
being fond of him
of her
of them
because
she was happy

maybe she was right
or maybe he has left
maybe she was wise
or maybe he is a dolt.

when i see you
i see phosphenes
vivid as daylight
colorful and bright

when i hear you
i hear you bombinate
with intricate
notes and melodies.

when i love you
i love "you"
you so happy
you so lonely
you my felicity
my manly
paragon
of happiness
sorrow with
all sorts of rainbow.

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

Fight is light
A sight that’s bright
The reason why we didn’t even try
To freely fly from the jail of lie

Bad is good, good is bad, it’s true, though it can make you mad,
Make you feel down and sad
War is something that’s good yet bad
Sweetness and bitterness, good and bad, are all it had

War and peace, love and hate
Just, reason, critic and fate
It had just started but it seems like it has already begun
With that, our hearts were shoot by an air gun

Spring of love, flakes of blood
Frozen heart, warmth rushing through the flood
I can’t find the words to say goodbye
I tried, and that’s not a lie

Foresee what would happen
If you continue this thing till the end
And now it’s too late
For you to change your fate

I used to possess this strength
With no limitation of length
Waiting, expecting, loving, caring, and forgiving
I’ve done ages ago, but I swear not for a living

Those fruitful days with all of you
I’ve had doubts if some of it is false or true
But I’ve had enough
Patience was replaced by anger that you can’t stop

I’ll say it one more time
My heart was a candy and turned into a lime
Then it has rotten and turned bitter
It rained and our memories was just a litter

Everything was now a trash
My head exploded and my heart crashed
Was broken into pieces
By unfulfilled promises

...i am made.
...carrying such burden.
...i am made.
...thinking i was broken.

...i am here
...all alone
...in a dark valley
...of tears
...all alone
...in an unreciprocated
...appreciation
...all alone
...in this nightmare
...seemingly a dream
...seemingly...

...i was there
...but
...now i am here
...here where no one
...sees
...where no one
...wonders
...ponders
...and where no one
...is alone
...but me.

yes, twas
a hundred and sixty
days of pure
happiness and love
of pure insanity
and sadness.

those words
werent really meant
to hurt me
nor to encourage me
but
twas meant to
tell me
that those
a hundred and sixty
days were all
untamed,
untrue,
unloved
and then all stars
became blue.

tears wrapped my cheeks
air left my chest
trembles visited my hands
i will never understand
what happened
this night
from felicity
to fondness
to like
to love
to betrayal
to anger
to sadness
and to, again,
loneliness

words were too poetic
to critic
notes were too loud
to be heard
actions were too easy
to gesture
but for every leisure
time that
touches our hand
and grabs us
with it's strong
grip
there's a tip:
remember yesterday
see the future
and
live in that moment.

dreams were never
of those romances
but pure second chances.

happiness is never of others
but of self.

so i say this to you
i will always love you.

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.

suns and crescents
well-spent
and transparent.

everything rotated
with her,
she,
and me.

everything smiled
like it should,
would,
and could.

everything~
except me and
you.

his eyes,
still.

his hair,
thick.

his person,
so dear.

standing amidst
the bordeline
of darkness
and
of hope,
he widened his arms,
reached towards her,
the anchor
of his
in between
till
his last
breathe
disappeared.

is it you or him?
is it him or you?
or maybe both,
who knows?

he was my first Monday
you were my first Friday

he was my music
you were my words

but i know
deep inside
this dungeon
only
curiosity has risen
and
i was never fallen
from where i used to be
from where i was with my music

yes
i know,
it's still him
only that...
it felt like everything ended
last Friday.




but,
everything started
last Monday.

we are born
to live,
not to die.

we walk
to explore,
not to please.

we sing
to express,
not to keep.

but,
during this
seemingly
endless Saturday,
she was dying,
she was pleasing,
she was keeping.

she had
anhedonia

i was under
the moonlit sky
no lies,
but,
full of cries

he was under
the sunlit
yet rainy
sky
no doubt,
he could be
mine

maybe both sides
wouldn't have been
so seen..
maybe both sides
were so close
that my happy pill's daily dose
is way too much

then i gave in
i told him
after he did
we reciprocated each other
no need to be bothered

but then
again
i told myself
i can conquer him
but not now,
tomorrow,
nor today
but maybe
when the heavens
and times
would let me
so he is.

something bloomed
last Friday
it was beautiful
so powerful
rain showered
and it was a
flower.

all truth, no lies
everything ended
and started
with a sigh

thus, he could be mine
but, that's a crime

starting with how
every word,
every note
he says
and sings,
were too soft,
too subtle,
to be heard
but i did.

wounded arms
can't come across,
but it's not a
great loss
if it prevents me
and deceives me,
from doing
and believing,
something
and some things

yes
i regressed
but i shall transgress
from liking
to loving
from dying
to living
all for them
all of for Him
all of for "he"
and all for
"she."

1st
i missed him
his peculiarity,
his felicity,
his solitude,
his kindness,
with scintilla
of him
being rude.

2nd
and then
once again
we were reunited
then feelings
were tad red.

3rd 4th 5th
everything went
on and on
taking each other's
turn

friday
stuff happen
fastly seemingly
slowly
creating more fondness,
likeness, and mess

friday night
there she says
how long everything
could, would, or should
last
the epitome of
calendared,
targeted,
earned,
and wanted
"love."

on that friday
night with showers
or rain
t'was chilly
and windy
and loud
and crowded
lost and
shrouded
with endless cheers
and yells.

after everything else
there comes
goodbyes and
farewells.

she then grabbed
him by his arms
neared her face
towards his side
and with one stride
she left a warm
and frosty touch
on his cheeks
and blurred the
whispering, cold
mob.

velvet lips
auburn eyes
curly hair
mysterious glare

from those
raining rays
of sunshine

from the
singing sound
of winding
breeze

she felt his warmth
from across the room
she felt his stride
towards her side
and he
grayed her sight
she felt the
slightest, and most
gentle touch
of velvet.

during the new
year's eve,
it was sad to
discover and
remember
how he then
lost what
she has always
had.

it was sad to
utter words
which would
never come to
light nor dark.

it was sad to
end the year
with tears
and sheer
calculation
of what's today
and tomorrow.

it was truly sad
to know
that he never had
what she has always
had.

Among those people
For me, you're the least lovable
Among the crowd
Your voice tells me you're the most proud

From the first of the days
I listened to your music
I can't find a way
Out of such sound so still

Distant as the ocean,
Bright as the sun,
Eyes of the soil,
A well-versed soul

You're a  flower that blooms in winter
I'm a bee who preyed you last summer

That "first" of the days
It was more than most
It was more than best
It was more than you

Then came another season
There you go, trying to know
That "me" I never wanted
That "me" I never liked
That "me" whom you preffered

But strokes of fate
Unleased its power: hate
Its not yet late
To be each other's soulmates

"He," i preferred so much
Wanting his touch
Seeking for that match
Made in heaven, so please watch

How "she'll" extract
His beauty and love
His songs and poems
His words and notes

nothing.

a person of truth
my cure
innocent look
devilish book.

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

he does have
those so-called
mediocre looks

he does have
those off-key
notes

he does have
those unlived
thoughts

and

he does have
a heart of gold
his soul's
way too bold,
way too strong,
way too unwrong.

he was her
current everything,
her decent wings,
her ethereal man,
her eternal friend,
her beautiful distraction
her silent explosion

blithe
or blythe
superb it really
is
having him
see and hear
her gestures
her songs
this unwanted
creature
is just so happy
indulging
every sensation,
every affection,
she feels for him,
she gives to him,
and she receives
from him.

maybe she's
clamoring for
this empyrean
man she so seeks
his heart of a
celestial nymph's
his soul of bravery
his obscure love,
her haven,
her puppy,
her endless
trickery.

throughout the happiness
that occured
within the surface

throughout the laughter
that she murmured
for you to hear

throughout every advice
she gave
for you to word

throughout every smile
she brought you
for you to be happy

she had an endless
longing for
something

she'd been forlorn
every single time
she steps on the
treshhold
between her house
and her home.

as he made his way
towards her
end of the day,
she was all that happy,
looking at his
endless beauty,

his arms intertwined
with hers,
her melody reaching
his chuckles and screams
and cries.

they leave those soaring
individuals,
roaming inside the familiar,
spectacular room.

then they walk
along the busy
pavements,
with sounds of
the pouring rain.

as she steps away
from her light of day,
as the sun sets and
the moon awakens from
its slumber,
she remembers and treasures
every foot step he takes
away from her distance
and slowly, gradually,
she writes a poem,
a letter, a song,
about how she loved
how he walks away.

she's back.

he let words
of his own
criticism
be heard
by her.

those remarks
he confidently
made with no signs
of remorse
nor humor.

after another
daylight,
he said
it was the means
of himself,
it was him,
such enormous,
kind,
insensitive, and
silent inconsistency.

once done more,
will it be just as it is?
or will it turn into
a consistently done
habit?

the simplicity of those mesmerizing sweetness
the eternal wealth of pure love thus seems lifeless
everything envelopes the joy of living
truly satisfying, truly encouraging

i thrive for joy,
i thrive for life,
i thrive for love.

i seem to know and not to know
i seem to see and not to see
i seem to be and not to be

i will be and i will see
the hidden beauty
of this life deemed to be
the most unwanted creation
it is in dying that i live and clamor for thee

~thought
~was healed,
but then
~wasn't.

she was breaking

why had i been
so caught up
with every piece
of this felicity?

i love you so much
to the point of
losing my friends,
my family,
my blood,
my love,
and myself.

but
never did you
ever did what i did
never did you
ever feel what i did
never did you
ever love me like
how i did.

she
beyond the desperate
twinkle in her eyes,
lies prestigious
gestures that
only he understands.

it's the way
irony wraps
itself, tight
in her arms,
then her hands,
her legs,
then her feet,
and one day
she found out,
she was covered
in a hoax
of adoration.

he
the crevice
behind the
face of trauma
lies a beam
of serendipity,
of love,
and of liberation.

it's funny
how moments
like this
collide like
atomic particles,
it makes us
feel heat,
light,
and life.

they
and there
they were,
in complete
awe of such
luminance,
faded
and branded
in the cromulent
beautiful skies
of wonders
and of idyllic
setting.

maybe there were butterflies
maybe there weren't
maybe there were skies
maybe there weren't

i was scared
of being glared
at, and am fed
up, with such hurtful stuff

maybe i was too trust worthy
maybe i'm not
maybe i was a fool
maybe i'm not

i seem to be alive
on a count of five
i needed to dive
and die

i weren't trusted
weren't loved
weren't friended
but then i was dead

i thrive for love
for trust
for understanding
and comfort

i thrive for liberty
for time
for consolation
and independence

i thrive for self-peace
but i guess
there's nothing left to see
in this world of deathly reality

i'm not a fan
of aurora
of beautiful words
of high notes
of fine meal
of fun-filled life

i'm not a person
who is too ineffable
who is too eloquent
who is too capricious
who isn't a nefarious
who has auburn eyes

but i'm a person
whom you can't fathom
masked with faked smiles
covered in blood of sins
drowned in intimidation
pierced with the old same arrows
and burdened with every piece of me