How did
we end up
being
strangers?
We used
to be
true-love
believers.

If I die, tonight
don't cry,
pick the petals off a rose
and throw the thorns
at my doorstep
with your lies,
how could you tell them
I was important
to you,
when you were not there
when I needed
you the most?

If I die, tomorrow
don't follow,
this is my way
of giving up to the world
that has already
given up to me,
how could you show
those tears,
when you were not there
when I tried to resist
the fears?

If I die, yesterday
don't believe,
I have already died
a thousand times
before you knew
this cold flesh
is in my grave,
how could you find
solace in memories,
when you left me
in the church today?

Words are trapped
in the unfathomable
depth of this mind.

Solitude then came
along this pale
moonlit night.

Ink of this pen
could no longer
unfold its mysteries.

Hope to find peace
on the funeral
of my poetry.

A thousand feelings
but there is only one
unique feeling for you,
like the flowers
blossom after
a cold rainy night,
like the perfect
scenery of the moon
waning the tides.

The rain caught us
in the middle
of flickering streetlights
in this town,
a dark cold
night walk with you,
we stopped
in a small mart
to grabbed a *****
and talked about
the future,
you smiled
at me,
you rubbed
your warm hands
against my face,
and tears started
to fall.