Lost in the midst of oblivion,
writings on the walls
are depiction of excruciation
I condoned,
with this question
clawing on my tongue:

"𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯
𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴,
𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯?"

The devil in my mirrors
has its beguiling wings,
now slowly burning
for I found my angel.

the government
is not
your enemy
but
yourself

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.

she cut her arm
with lonely blades
to feel
the nectar of pain
inside her heart
then hide the scars
to look
perfect again

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

You pulled me closer
to your life,
you showed me the world
of wha­t it looks like
with you in my arms,
you made me believed
for a m­oment
that I could only see
in my dreams,
then all of a sudden
yo­u asked for space.

i'll take
a thousand photos
of your beauty,
you are
every beating
of my heart
camera clicks
hola!
i'm camtivated

love is sweet,
love can ****

love is poisonous,
love can heal

love is
dangerously
astounding

love can
make you
in sane
or insane

your breast—
a mountain so high,
i'd drink my saliva
to quench my thirst

how do
i cure
my depression:

𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬

midnight skies,
insatiable emotions

found ourselves
in tangled arms

musings on
lust and love;

love is not a need
but a feeling

lust makes our love
more compelling

i am
a pen

afraid
of loving

like how
the ink

kisses
the blank
paper

but dies
and
leave me

for
my words
to live

in poetry

i believe in promises,
it's the wind i would grasp
tightly in my hand,
the depth of an ocean
i would drown to,

i believe in promises,
it's a dream i would wallow
in visions of my sleep,
a morning at my window
i would wake up to,

tomorrow
may not be certain,
still, i believe in it
even if it's made
to be broken

why do
i love coffee
when it rains?

why do
i still love you
even it pains?

i love when it rains
in waning moonlight,
spending time
with you in bed;
tight hugs,
purple kisses,
legs apart—
getting wet

cut the strings attached,
burn bridges between us,
paths never will cross again,
hide the tears and pain—

this my love,
the end we might—
to our love story,
i refuse to write

lighten the load
of your luggage
of insecurities

i missed the smell
of your velvet
cotton *******,
and when
my wet fingers
slowly—
gently
pulling it down—
your eyes
closed—
a little moan
escaping
from your breath

if you hate
𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴,
𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴
and 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴,
then you are
not ready
to have 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘴
in your life

they say
money can't
buy happiness,

but if only
i could buy
even just
a piece,

i would,
i badly
need it

You are more than a lover to me,
you are my best friend
you are t­he coffee in my morning,
you are the blanket in my cold nights
yo­u are my peace of mind,
you are in every heartbeat
you are the re­medy I believe,
you are one of a kind,
I could never find 
someon­e like you in a lifetime,
this love,
this beautiful feeling,
you ­are the only one 
who can define.

I write poetry
in the midst of solitude

of infinite miseries
I yearned to elude

words engraved
in a rose-kissed canvas

are fragments of hidden
memoir of the past.

time is
the nemesis
in our story

but i always
choose you,
my poison

The remnants of memories
can be so addictive
like 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯
𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴,
and you,
alone in dark place
𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴
𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦,
longing to walk
by the shore,
to feel
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦
𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦,
to listen
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥
𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴
until the dawning light
appears before your eyes,
to find an escape
for you are caught
𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦
𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯
𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺.

her words
are savory
i might
devour,

but i
should escape
from her
maneuvers

you alone are
my favorite
kind of pain

my hands
bleed
poetry

i write
her
miseries

there was once
me and you
against the world

now there is
me against you
who once my world

Memories
were made
to die,
like the sun
bid the moon
goodbye.

the gray skies
began to fall

meaningless blur
of alcohol

fleeting of time,
losing of faith

those worst days,
i was a poet