You cannot die on me,
Let us dive right into your fears.

You cannot die on me,
I cannot save who does not cry for help.

You cannot die on me,
I have not even touched you yet.

You cannot die on me,
It is the good part you will miss.

You cannot die on me,
My fins and tail cannot be with no owner.

You cannot die on me,
This is my sea, I will let us both breathe.

You cannot die on me,
I have turned into your life vest.

You cannot die on me,
I will follow you eitherway.

You cannot die on me,
I will not give up this daydream.

You cannot die on me,
I have stayed alive for you.

Bleed before I eat,
I must make the carvings deep,
Then cram 'til they fade.

Do crickets scream
Like a trapped firefly
Inside a glass jar,
Blinded by her own light,
Deaf to her own sound,
Needing the darkness for she might
Cave in with only herself around,
Or is it just Jiminy Cricket
I hear losing his singing voice
From the plant outside my room,
Telling me I must stay in this jar
Until I learn how not to
Love the light too much?

Unlike constellations,
There are no dots for me to connect
This figure that I trace
To make a silver lining out of you.

I never trusted that warmth in your tank.
I've always smelled something fishy
About the hot moisture on the glass
And how the water is close to boiling,
Since it's coming from this hell
Where monsters share the night
And leave you waiting til the sun
Rises to scare them to their hideouts.
And I almost caught it red-handed,
'Cause now that warmth is gone
And suddenly you're so cold,
Not the kind of cold
That drips on my palms
When I take you right from the water
To let you play in my hands
And you would find a hole to creep out of
And try to fly
As if this whole world
Is your own ocean.
Now it's the kind of cold
That no longer crawls and squirms
To escape from me,
'Cause you've already found the way out.
And you even left the doors open
As your empty eyes stare at me.
You won't look around now,
Just when you've decided to open your eyes more.
I can no longer see you,
Just when you've decided not to hide in your shell anymore.
But it wasn't that warmth after all.
It was the warmth that wasn't there
When you needed it the most.
And it's such a shame the turtle sticks came too late
And they were no longer enough
To keep you wanting to be home with me.
But they still were no later than my sorry
And bathroom-borne sobs
Which you won't be able to hear anymore,
Or even understand.
And the green in the portrait I made of you,
The pixels of your images,
And your shy face on my desktop,
Can never be as alive as you once were.
But you just can't
Let me place you in this jar
I labeled 'good days,'
Pour over some sand,
And keep you there and wait
Until there finally is a place that we can call ours,
Where our remains won't be called tenants.
Darling, why now?
You will still need a bigger tank,
You will still grow up with me,
You will still marry Shelly,
If ever she makes it.
God, let her make it.
You can't be gone now,
You just can't.
I haven't even finished our song yet.
Will you really leave me here,
Writing songs about valuables I lost,
People I sent away,
And every living that died at my feet?
I guess you will
But I just can't get used to it,
Nor do I want to get used to this;
To have to get up
But not want to wake up
And attend every tragedy
As if I were death's representative.

Shelves, guarding me.
Books, keeping me company.
As I look through the window,
I long to have the wind brush me away
Like how the malunggay plants sway the day,
How the pine tree tricks me when it bends down,
And how the white butterflies gravitate like autumn leaves.
I wish to go outside
And make new friends
And waste whatever's left of me.
But this empty part of the library,
The only place that knows me,
Is where I meet with my best friend time,
And she is the only one to understand my rhymes.

How to make sure
That there is a measure
Between actualities
And the mind's fantasies?

How to make sure
When the caricature
Is more probable
Than the real trouble?

How to make sure
Of one's nature
Only in sentences
Without presence?

How to make sure
That one's kind gesture
Is not given to deceive,
But what you need to perceive?

How to make sure
That you will be treasured
For the way your brain twirls,
When you're a pretty pearl?

How to make sure
You aren't only for leisure
If you can't read
When they play or heed?

How to make sure
That under seizure,
You are held captive,
Even when unattractive?

How to make sure
Your every feature
Will be embraced
Even if you're crazed?

How to make sure
That the pressure
In the sender is equivalent
To that in the recipient?

How to make sure
That one's exposure
To a safe hydration
Won't lead to explosion?

How to make sure
That the only fracture
Happens when you break,
Not when you can still take?

How to make sure
Your preserved stature
Will only be buried
Once you're no longer carried?

How to make sure
For a future
If nothing will remain
But memory stains?

How to make sure
That the adventure
Is worth the cost
Of getting lost?

Electrons, making me feel like a *****.
Where the heck did ADP come from?
I don't even want to wonder why there suddenly is a phosphate group.
How come G3P wasn't a nickname when I was a sophomore?
Glycolysis was not a crisis,
And I understood Miss Minnie's drawings.
Now I have a book with 3D figures,
But cellular respiration was not who it was four years ago,
And I swear I've encountered all of them before,
But where did they all go?
I know their names but not who they are.
Honestly, I'd rather think fermentation occurs in a bar.

My communication skills ****,
How will I ever be able to earn a buck?
I could even lose to a duck.
What is wrong with me, ****.

Ana knows I can't be alone,
So she will mourn by my side,
While I count down
From the start
When...
Love lived a decade ago;
Calendar dated 10th century,
Top chest smeared with last millennium's dust and dried rose petals,
Bottom shelf stacked with the Recent epoch's chronicles in scrolls,
And I wrote this anecdote during the late Eocene,
But I am now an era old;
Too short of memory to remember fairytales,
Too outgrown to believe magic tricks or play a game of chance,
Too outworn to have my heartstrings plucked,
Too callous to bear a soft spot,
Too archaic to belong in any contemporary world,
Too ancient for a technological revolution.
Fixed in a period that won't age,
Absent of a timekeeper, missing every timepiece;
My antique mind couldn't only smarten up for
This relic of a body, camouflaging skin-deep among prototypes,
Preserving the fossils of my endangered heart.
Maybe one day a noble clocksmith will come
And build us a time machine.
Maybe I'll have my youth back
When Ana teleports back to Erin,
Where her misplaced soul will finally be home with the gods,
For I think I'd do fine without her anymore,
As I land inside a time capsule,
Or wake up as a hand-me-down,
In time at long last with today's pendulum clock.
I'd be lucky if it's the clocksmith who takes such artifact.
But until such time warp,
Ana knows I can't be alone,
So she will mourn by my side,
While I count down
From the start
When...

Three early birds broke the flying record today,
Under a ball of yellow light and sky of white cobwebs,
Uphill, amidst a godforsaken town,
At the far end of the deserted residential area,
In front of our binned and bagged house,
On the peach tiles of our topsy-turvy garage,
Inside a scroungy cardboard box,
Between the wasted space and rotten nest made of broom,
Where they left their bodies mushy and misshapen,
Where a colony of red ants now celebrate for a carrion feast.
They flew higher than any in their kind could ever reach,
That they went straight to heaven,
Early for their embellished feathers and wings,
Early for their final cartilages,
Early for their full-grown beak and claws,
Early for their black, beady eyes,
Early for their last rites,
Yet for us to forecast the bad news,
Yet for us to get off of our plastic chairs of indifference,
Yet for us to drop our glasses of lemon juice and inattention,
Yet for us to fumble outdoor and crash the ceremony,
Yet for us to solve the mystery,
Of whether the ball of yellow light radiated enough to fry,
That the three early birds had to fly the coop to oasis;
Of whether our mother's frenzy gave a cold welcome,
That the three early birds had to say goodbye when she tossed the box out;
Of whether I am to blame for yesterday's miracle
Of finding their home attached to the open bottom of our air-conditioner,
Which turned into a tragedy of a falling baby out of excitement,
That the three early birds felt like it was time to join their fourth sibling once again.
Indeed, too early
For the three siblings endowed with a mother and a father,
For mankind is blessed enough to have such a thing as family,
Who claimed the three early ones before the garbage does,
Who could've been proud parents in the future,
For witnessing the becoming of their three youngs
Who came out too soon,
Who were traceless of eggshells,
Who never knew a father,
Who were ****** enough to even be abandoned by a mother,
Who never knew if she even came back for them,
Who broke the flying record.
Indeed, too early.
After days of packing up sentiments,
Donating valuables,
Throwing away memories,
And leaving behind possessions,
I thought, for a moment,
We could save something
But we couldn't.

Can't we choose the air that coalesces with our blood?
Can't we decide the only time to let our lids shut and unlock?
Can't we pick the only lumps we want to sprout from our structures?
Can't we select the parts we would rather have blemished?
Can't we prohibit the leaky drops of saline our eyes secrete?
Or forbid our visage from exposing an out of control kaleidoscope?
Can't we stop our pumps from thrashing and throbbing and telling on us?
As well as command our malfunctioning extremities to quit giving away our state?
Can't we instead just bring out our insides without dissecting the outside?
Can't we just emit what we mean to sound off by just lip-syncing?
Can't we really do anything without a swad of nerves tell us no?
While having every stretch of muscle and vein say yes?
Can't we just...
Can't we really?

In the black sky, he glows like a falling star.
While on the ground, she stares from afar.
He flickers like fountains of meteor shower
And she can't help but to devour.

The clouds gave way upon his presence
And she was bedazzled by his luminescence.
His sparks are like shimmering asteroids;
Which, one by one, she desperately avoids.

The girl is Yin, and the boy is Yang.
When they collide, it'd be the Theory of Big Bang.
She's the color black, he's the color white.
They can't be combined, just like day and night.

Yin couldn't be heard even with her voice so loud.
While Yang, even the planets are proud.
He's the sun, she's the moon.
When they intertwine, it'd be the start of doom.

But alas, the constellations have connected
These two heavenly bodies by a thread.
There was no need for a North Star to be of guide,
For their lines are meant to coincide.

Neither did a black hole,
Nor did a nuclear fission divide them sole.
Just like saturn and its rings;
When he spins, she clings.

They're both from different galaxies,
With the same discrepancies.
Yet, they are in one circle in cosmology.
This is Yin and Yang's story.

I was walking on air this dawn.
We danced all around the lawn.
We were as wild and as free as a fawn.
Our bodies wiggled like a prawn;
And smiles on our faces were drawn,
With the feeling as if we won.

I was walking on air this morning.
Our laughs sounded better than a bell's ding,
And our voices were louder than a phone's ring.
We held our heads up like a king,
While our restless hearts sing.
And I wouldn't change a thing.

I was walking on air this afternoon.
You got me grinning like a new moon.
Like a flower, my cheeks bloom.
I didn't ever want to go back to my room,
And wished the moment wouldn't zoom.
I'd have given everything not to make it end too soon.

I am walking on air tonight.
It's all too dark but it still seems so bright,
For the bliss in our eyes has light
And no darkness can ever block my sight.
This ecstasy we couldn't fight
Will forever bind us tight.

Time doesn't crawl,
No, you can't make it stall;
Even if you pay with any toll.
So make as much brawl,
And quit calligraphy and try to scrawl.
So in the end, you'd have something to recall.

Time doesn't walk,
Don't try to balk.
Everybody knows it flies faster than a hawk.
So be sure to listen when I talk,
Because someday I'd be gone and you'd surely gawk.
And by then, you can never again stalk.

Time doesn't wait,
So drown all your hate.
Don't be the rod; instead be the bait.
Don't wait for the fish to become cate;
Catch it before it's too late.
For you never know when's the expiry date.

Time doesn't hang out,
That's what it's all about.
So don't fill your head with doubt;
Laugh while you can still spout.
Because no matter what you do, time will rout.
And there's no use of trying to pout.

Time doesn't pause.
You're not the boss,
You don't need to know the cause.
So don't wait for any loss,
Or for the growth of moss.
For one day there might be no coin left to toss.

Time doesn't stand by,
And it's not a lie.
The sky's too high,
But you'll reach it when you die.
Life's a sweet apple pie,
So don't waste it on a sigh.

Never have I let a black cat get in my way,
Never have I turned a horseshoe upside-down,
And never have I looked at a broken mirror;
But yet it seems like black cats insist on getting in my way,
Horseshoes turn themselves upside-down,
And mirrors break themselves, to give me bad luck.

“Don't sweep the floor at night if you don't want to sweep away the fortune,”
“Don't open an umbrella while you're still inside, if you don't want to attract trouble;”
That's what they all say.
But it seems like no matter what I do,
Good luck and good fortune really want to stay away from me,
And misfortune and disaster really want to chase after me.

Every incident turns into accident.
No, it can't be just a coincidence.
I'm jinxed, vexed, and hexed.
Call me anything you want,
It won't change the fact;
I'm hoodooed, and voodooed, and cursed.

But the fortune teller never told me about
How fate would suddenly be on my side this time.
She read my palm
And looked at her crystal ball,
But all she saw
Was my ill-fated future.

But now the wheel of fortune has finally spun;
The one on the bottom is finally on top.
I guess this is the effect of karma.
Destiny has finally decided
To give me something I need more than anything,
And it's none other than a lucky charm.

This lucky charm cannot be worn like a ring, bracelet, or an amulet;
And cannot be stolen like a gem or a stone.
It's something that I am the only one who possess;
For it is not an object, but a person instead.
He's not a genie, a wizard, or anyone who can grant any wish;
Just an ordinary person, with an extraordinary magic.

Bad luck is my twin;
We're together through thick and thin.
But when I'm with him,
It's as if good luck is also with me.
Because he can make such an unfortunate person
Feel even luckier than a lucky charm.

Instead of a red cape is a plain T-shirt and shorts,
Accompanied by a smile that can make a heart fly;
Beneath all this is my superman.
He may not be unbeatable in all sports,
But he doesn't even have to try.
Because no matter what, I'm still his biggest fan.

Laser eyes and X-ray vision,
Or even eyes that could see the future;
These are nothing, compared to his eyes.
Just staring at them gives me satisfaction
Than staring at any other picture.
Because in his eyes, I can see that love lies.

His hands aren't bullet-proof;
They can't stop a crashing plane,
Nor can they bend gold.
But my reasons are way over the roof,
That even through a hurricane,
It's still his hands I want to hold.

Super strength or super speed,
The ability to fly or to travel through time;
All of these, he has none.
But there really is no need;
I'd still write him poems that rhyme
Because his power on me, will never be gone.

So who cares if he really isn't a superhero?
Kryptonian or not,
Still, on Earth he was sent;
Not to be everyone's superman,
But to be my one and only hero.
He's the best weapon I've got.
Lois Lane may have her own Clark Kent,
But I have my own superman.

I thought I might need a shield,
For you might fire at any moment.
But just when I've prepared a gun,
You have raised a white flag.

I thought we already had a truce,
So I thought it's safe to put my guard down.
But I was the last to know
About your surprise attack.

I started shooting arrows,
Firing bullets,
And slashing swords;
But they have no effect on your thick armour.

I thought my plan wouldn't fail,
So I charged without a back-up plan.
But I didn't know you have your own schemes too,
So I fell into my own traps.

Giving up wasn't part of my plan;
So is losing my anger and pride.
But now the war has finally ended;
And again, I have lost against you.

I.
Alice in Wonderland thinks that she had found
The perfect place where she heard the white hare's sound
And the meow of Cheshire cat with nose so round,
Along with singing flowers on the green ground.

She'd stay asleep forever
Just to stay in Wonderland forever.
She refuses to wake up and says, “never!”
But I would stay awake forever
If I'd be with you forever.
Because with you, there's always a Wonderland wherever.

II.
The mirror says Snow White is the fairest in the land.
She already has it all; no need for a magic wand.
And with that beautiful voice, she could even sing in a band.
And after a kiss, the prince took her hand.

No other face could be compared to her beauty.
Her snow-white skin and blood-red lips are what brought her popularity.
Still, she has sincerity and humility.
I'm not beautiful, and that's reality.
And all that I have is self-pity.
But you make me feel as if I'm prettier than Aphrodite.

III.
Of all the fairytales, it was Cinderella who first had a happy ending.
She and the prince were dancing
Until the end of the evening.
And the next thing she knew, she was wearing a wedding ring.

She had the best happily-ever-after;
From wearing rags to living in a castle tower
And drinking wine instead of just water.
Love made her life brighter.
But my love story is even better,
For it has a happy ending every chapter.

IV.
Juliet claims her story still is the greatest of all.
She met her prince Romeo at a royal ball.
But between them, their families built a wall.
But with their eternal love, even death haven't had the chance to forestall.

She's right, her story is golden.
All the others have failed; her place cannot be taken.
Romeo and Juliet's record might not have been beaten,
But the greatest story yet to be written
Is our story where love goes beyond heaven.
Because if I would die for you, I'd do it over and over again.

I thought I'd be able to sleep
If my thoughts, I refuse to keep.
Now more feelings start to peep;
Making me want to weep.

It's all because of you,
This is all you know to do.
There's nothing new,
You never changed nor grew.

I thought of doing something
To keep this from happening.
But it didn't have any meaning,
To you it was nothing.

It's all pointless.
All that I've done are timeless,
But still, you made it all worthless.
How could you be so heartless?

You're the start and the end of my everyday.
Everything you do and say
Can turn clouds of gray
Into sunshine ray.
You make everything seem perfect in every way,
Like how the sun can make the rain go away.

Out of me, you could make a nun;
And it's me who you always stun.
Because you're a top that gives fun
And I'm the string, around you I've always spun.
And away from you, I could never run,
Like how the earth will always revolve around the sun.

It's me who you always inspire;
And it's you who I will always admire.
In you, I couldn't find anything dire.
You can take away, even my strongest ire.
Because it's only you who can make me retire,
Like how water is the weakness of fire.

You're the only one who came
That made me sing your name;
And I'd rather lose in every game
Than to lose you for fortune and fame.
Because without you, I wouldn't be the same,
Like how a candle would be nothing without a flame.

The road was wet with rain
And they were sharing the same umbrella.
They were just about to cross the street,
While inside a jeepney I sat in pain;
Staring at the loading area,
Thinking that what have followed him were supposed to be my feet.

At some restaurant in a mall,
They sat, talked, and ate dinner.
They were together from afternoon 'til evening,
While I just came home after a stroll,
Thinking how much she was a winner
For having what I have always been wanting.

He says he had so much fun,
Going from places to places with her.
They had karaoke and then some.
I guess I could start shooting myself with a gun,
Than to tell myself I'm fine, and be a liar.
What is to lose, anyway? I have none.

I guess my role isn't really that good.
I thought being his girl is one thing I wouldn't trade.
But it seems like their roles are better than mine.
They are the ones who can make his mood.
I guess I'd rather be his comrade,
Than to be his girl; for which he has no time.

If I were a greek goddess,
Then I must be Hera;
And he must be Zeus.
I'm jealous, I confess;
Of all the women he was with this era.
I'm the one he loves, but I wonder how long can I be his muse.

If love's a crime,
Then we'd be criminals.
To some eyes, we'd be monsters;
And to many, we'd be devils.
But I wouldn't mind my first name being feared and hated,
Because having your last name is what matters to me.

If love's a crime,
Then we'd be criminals.
We'd be playing with fire and get burned;
We'd be playing tag with the detectives
And hide-and-seek with the cops.
But I wouldn't mind running and hiding with you for the rest of my life.

If love's a crime,
Then we'd be criminals.
We'd be locked behind bars
And treated like animals.
But as long as my hand is hand-cuffed to your hand
And we're together in the same prison cell,
I wouldn't mind wearing a handcuff
And staying in prison for eternity.

Once again, Cupid has struck
His arrow upon me, just my luck.
This thing which they call love
Has dragged me again from up above.
Now I am falling, falling so fast.
It is happening again, just like the past.

If only I had been too careful,
Maybe now I wouldn't be so doubtful.
Now it's too late,
Way too late to control dear fate.
I should have seen it from the start.
Now I am coming apart.

I still remember the last time I fell;
Shame on me, it gave me nothing but hell.
But not to worry, I take all the blame
And throw it in the fire, to burn in the flame.
I now know I should forget.
I suffered enough, enough regret.

This time, it is different,
It seems like heaven must've sent
The thing I need the most
To make me feel not much like a ghost.
And upon me proved, I didn't even resist,
That happy endings still exist.

But still I am not so sure
If his love is really pure.
When I am around, he never shows it;
But through the things he says, I can feel it.
Tell me if these proofs aren't enough
To say that this is not a joke at which I should laugh.

I am but a fool for his heart-sinking words
That hurt me deeply like a thousand sharp swords.
He says it's no use,
He will never be the one I will choose.
If only he is aware, I say,
Of what my cowardly heart has to say.

We feel it both,
But we're running out of hope.
Such cowards,
Too afraid to come forward.
With so much to mention,
If only both would pay attention.

Now I am desperately calling out;
Oh heavens, please hear what's coming out of my mouth!
Tell me if I made another mistake.
Please, answer me for my own sake.
Say that this won't be like the last one,
For my heart will surely come undone.

If every word you utter
Comes with a scratch on my skin,
Then I must be skinless by now.
But I'd rather drown in the water
Or hit myself with a tin,
Than to wound myself with your howl.

If the more you raise your tone,
The more I become deaf,
Then please scream your all.
For I'd rather feel alone;
Never to hear myself,
Than to hear your call.

If only there is a way
To stop the way I feel,
I wouldn't be writing this;
Nor would I even say,
And nor would I even feel
That I need to write this.

She ties strings around my joints
And controls all my motions.
When her finger points,
I have to be in position.

With her push and her pull,
My helpless body moves.
I'm under her rule;
She makes all my grooves.

I have no right to speak;
She's the only one with the voice.
Not even a squeak;
I don't have any choice.

“Do this” and “do that,”
She commands me like a ***.
With just a snap, just like that.
If only I could run.

How much I envy little Pinocchio.
He was once a puppet who turned into a real boy.
I am no puppet, I know.
I am human, but being manipulated like a toy.

I am a grayed rose in a black and white world; afloat on a pond of serenity and solitude.
My petals, drifting aimlessly about the cold; a part of me stays everywhere I lurk.
My leaves; a reminder of what raised me up, I keep close to my parts.
My thorns, disentangled from my soul; I let flow along the stream of the old.
My roots, my source of power; I can no longer hold on to.
But withal the blows of change and time,
I shall be firmer than oak,
And bear on blooming and burst forth
Colors and beauty and the scent of love
Out in the open, out in the wild;
Out in the earth of torment and beguiling eyes,
And shan't wither under any weather.
I am a grayed rose in a black and white world;
Slowly reviving all the life that I lost.

The skies are flawless tonight,
Like a plum blanket with splotches of tangerine,
They stretch out across the earth;
Embracing and tucking me in.
How I wish they were your arms instead,
Wrapped around me and keeping me cozy.

I hear the chirping of the crickets
With their symphonic chorus soothing my eardrums
As they hum me to sleep.
Nothing could be a lovelier sound;
Except perhaps if I would hear
Your whisper of good night to my ear.

There goes a soft puff of air,
Caressing my face as it flows away;
Taking a little of my weariness with it.
But still, the only thing that could revive
The life that was once in my eyes
Is your kiss good night.

Now I am lying in silence and repose
Beneath the comforts of my home,
With my head wandering among the clouds;
In a lost cause of finding you in my dreams.
As I close my eyes and fall in deep slumber,
I tell the stars to bid you good night.

I am finding air,
Searching for a new atmosphere.
I think I need some time to catch my breath,
Then hold it out for the fresh breeze of hope
After exhaling the despair-blended smokes,
In order to feel alive once more.

I am finding air,
Yearning to spread out my wings
And make the sky my home.
Let me first bloom in my cocoon,
So I shall come out rainbow-stained
And the *** of gold will soon show itself to me.

I am finding air,
Allowing the current to sweep me off my feet.
Not looking down,
Despite of hanging by a thread;
Not planning to land yet,
No matter how hot or cold it gets.

I am finding air,
Shading with clarity these shadows dulling my presence
As the blinding haze thickens,
While the heavy downfall pours to wash me away
And darkness shames me to fade away.
Until I taste the sun, you couldn't keep me in any lair.

I am finding air,
Following the blow of the wind,
To look up to a different horizon,
To chase after my lucky star,
To reach for the moon hiding behind the clouds,
And have the whole universe in the palm of my hand.

I am finding air,
Now peaking the crown of paradise,
Embracing a full heaven,
Back to where I started;
Walking on air,
Inspiring another endless quest.

With mechanical portals known to be doors
That either lead to different worlds or take you home,
These cabled vehicles like tunnels on wheels fastened on a railroad track
Stretch to both ends of the universe under a single route.
And as you get in for closure,
You put your trust on the obscure.

Just say the magic words;
It will take you anywhere you wish to be.
Even though magic always comes with a prize,
The only cost are countable units of your time
And also a few dimes,
In return for the travel of your life.

Across the carpeted walkway of reaching out,
Through the glass windows of visible silver lining,
Behind the blank and arid faces that lure the soul to sink in deep wonder,
The lights and skyscrapers, and mist silhouetting the scenery,
All appear in bokeh, all blend in your eyes;
Your eyes that glow brighter than fire on ice.

The coldness lashing perennially on your skin
And shaking your bones to its final breakage,
Couldn't beat the absolute zero amity between these strangers.
But your fascination has enough radiation
To melt the tip of the iceberg
And shine over what's behind their opaque walls.

Settled on the plastic seats that serve as time machines,
They nestle between unfamiliar bodies;
Static, in a state of inertia.
Blocking out force, resisting change;
Like cars stuck on parking mode,
Couldn't bring themselves to unload.

Grasping on loose handles
With a grip more secure than seat-belts,
Some tend to pull away despite of the constant push.
Like engines on reverse, they take time to backtrack.
For all we know, for every action,
Is an equal and opposite reaction.

The brakes hit; there goes a screeching sound.
But when it comes to a break, we don't really hang back
Or fall to a complete stop;
We only slide forward.
For we must keep moving ahead,
In order to keep our balance.

The portals once again unlock to let you out to the open galaxy
And let in another for the same adventure.
You've reached the end of the trip,
But not the end of the road; nor the destination.
For the journey is infinite; you know you are going to ride again and again,
Until you've run out of wishes of where you want to be where.

Every steady stroke of lead staining the spotless paper,
Takes shape into a vivid sketch of her blueprinted future.
It was her hand that steered the pencil up to the final detail,
But it was the tenacity in her being that polished off the masterpiece.
The draft was no evidence of a foreseen tomorrow;
Rather, a subtle illustration of what can bring that vision forward.
It was but a portrait of herself;
Her hair ablaze in burnt sienna with tinges of orange,
Every strand of it splashed with colors of burning hope.
Her eyes, as brown as they are,
Traced with fine ebony lines of boldness,
In them is where wild reveries come to life.
She is the outline, she is the plan.
She is enough to be an artwork of her own.
She is the pattern, she is the design.
She is the finishing touch to her own creation.

Mild and right,
Just between 212 and 32 degrees Fahrenheit.
With temperate steam,
Giving off a little gleam.
Won't have you scalded,
Won't ever turn frigid.
Won't let you sink,
Will buoy you up when you're on the brink.
Although lukewarm,
Still the farthest thing from numb.
Never half-hearted;
Always spirited.
And I hope as you flow,
Your uniqueness, you won't forget to show.

It is for the reason we think and think and think,
That the finishing line seems to shrink and shrink and shrink.
Their trophies and our consolation prizes, we always link
To the faces of where it matters not if we stink.

We ***** and *****, but never look;
Only offer our eyes to reference books,
Pay our lives to learn how they sit and smile and dress and cook,
When we could carve out crafts of our own on hippocampus walls to hook.

Charts and charts of sound waves go farther than needed into the ear,
But in this statistic, there are more of those which we are deaf to hear.
Then we wonder, perhaps they will listen if we talk our fear through beer.
What we cannot, we must preach, so in the morning it’ll all be clear.

Putting on several mouths, sincerity seldomly salivates in our tongues.
And all we ever scream about, we let clump and clog in our lungs.
Our voices, we swallow, then verbalize universal dung.
Is that easier than to allow our singularity be hung?

To possess such delicate bones under thick coats of flesh and skin,
One little sting, we crumble as if our framework isn't as fortified as tin.
But sometimes when too stung, we rigidify and our cutis turns lean.
Our pores, too open, that even what doesn't exist, we welcome in.

And so, we stick to our lifelong work of homemade bibles,
And add commandments every time we build stables,
Along with valuables from the places in people’s fables.
Only us can decide to make room for new tables.