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yan Apr 2020
a sip of smooth dried leaves.
head thrown back,
your heart has been thawed.
empty mug
which you hold,
your cold hands drinking the leftover warmth.
yet empty it is; unable to replenish its ceramic exterior.
i'm getting colder
and you put me away.
i'm waiting patiently for you to feed me again.
with warmth
and mint leaves.
only for you to drink me happy.
i beg for you to use me again.
yan Apr 2020
tire marks left behind on the tracks of thoughts in my head
from racing cars
roundabout thoughts.
putrid acid of burnt rubber stings the eyes and the throat
from clear, untainted tears.
but smoke from sudden friction
sudden spark
ascending into nothingness
the relief of peace.
it is raining outside.
and it trickles into my bloodstream.
coming inside.
the tiny white powdery donuts are gently disintegrating into me
small pelting on the wound on the road
though black tracks remain as evidence of distress
the sting is gone.
so is the heat.
it’s cold now.
and it’s difficult to get rid of the rubber blemish.
and roads are hard to keep clean when reckless drivers exist.
yan Apr 2020
to dream of rope embracing my neck
or compact powder bursting through my veins
to crave for solace and beg for more
my arm is getting sore.
for chest to feel your words and intentions
your smile, your laugh, the soundless contentions
i ache and my face pours with my own rain.
i'm sorry, my love.
our attraction stronger than tide wearing down rocks of steel
your love so real it could truly heal.
i fear my dark overshadows my light
i fear that i'm not worth putting up a fight
letter words spill from my mouth as i bite back the lump of pain in my throat.
i cannot fathom this luck i have to call you mine.
you assure me a thousand times
i am the one you love
i am the one
who will walk with you in trailing white and flowery light.
perhaps i will settle for flight
a temporary
easy way out
to paint away my doubt
uneven canvas
of broken promises.
lost in my own thoughts
drowning in an ocean
yan Apr 2020
bubblegum beat
rhythmic uprising.  
makes my chest ache with sheer joy.
four months indistinguishable from 4 seconds
from first glance to the 783rd
your hazel eyes will forever remind me of the brownies we will bake.
while the sound of your voice signals for spring
and frost in my stomach to thaw,
the drizzle of rain will not compare to the safety i feel in your arms.
steal my thoughts!
i'm always with you outside my window.
eyes glazed with bliss and upturned lips.
cherry aftertaste
as sugary as the feeling of your skin.
yan Apr 2020
the smell of your sleep
could bring clouds to their weeping knees.
defensive facade of my black chipped fingertips serve no purpose against your curled brown lashes
only for a hiccup in your slumber.
smile like a sunflower,
smell just as sweet.
smell of your hair
smell of your sleep.
to play with your curls
filter them through my fingers
like sand in a child's small hands.
hand in yours.
your head rests so well in my lap.
yan Apr 2020
the taste of silver feels like gold on my skin.
break my structure to make me begin.
what i'll regret in the morning;
chilli flakes
have lost their spice overnight.
left over numb.
with every pulse i feel my doing.
undone and free of internal agony.
at last !
sweet, fruitful, tangy amber
but only for a blink.
even she's growing up !
she's growing up fast !
a big one like her requires more.
blinking quicker, eyes wide and open keen.
illusion of curiosity;
a caramel glaze over burnt toast
of intention.
go ahead, take a bite.
i assure you my liquid sugar will mask my pain.
turn the head,
find cotton white of surrender stained with rage and defiance.
eyes will shut
a long

yan Apr 2020
2 weeks it's been since your skin on mine
hand in my hair, fingers round my neck.
a fortnight young memory, rapidly ageing
it appears to me that there is no end in sight.
too young to travel, too young to defy.
all too much aching for me to survive.
to crave your touch, your voice and your smile
has become the only routinely act these past two weeks.
your smell has faded from the clothes you left behind,
but my yearning has only begun gradating into light.

agnosticism disregarded
i pray for an end to this
for two weeks to extend no longer till you're once again in my arms.
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