the feeling of struggling
for months
from inner turmoil
chained to a system
the wrong cogs being turned in my head grinding, sparking, creating embers of declining mental state.
But at last, i’m met with a break and a relief from long lived writer’s block.
while fatigue clings at the skin under my eyes, leaving bruises of sleepless nights and tireless structured writing.
i struggle
but it feels as though the cocoon which kept me captive for so long is sliding away from me
and i’m regaining strength to fight free
perhaps this opportunity to write is not because i’m tired
perhaps it’s allowed me to breathe

i am an apple rotting from the core,
my shiny skin disguising my bruised insides.
the branch at the top of my head is being twisted off;
a, b, c, d.
pick a name.
smog thought of death comes to mind.
take a bite of me;
feel my sweet happiness ooze with every clench of the jaw.
but get to the spoiled bit
and toss me away.
leave me to rot and dry.
i'm here for a good time, not a long time.
and i don't deserve the pity and praise for the artistry at 27.
so i shall leave the party at my 28th hour.

a sip of smooth dried leaves.
head thrown back,
gulp
gulp
gulp.
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.

tire marks left behind on the tracks of thoughts in my head
from racing cars
donuts
roundabout thoughts.
putrid acid of burnt rubber stings the eyes and the throat
raw
from clear, untainted tears.
but smoke from sudden friction
sudden spark
lingers.
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.

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
four
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
but
cut.

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.

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
flutter.
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.