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 Mar 2018 Johndre
Peter Balkus
Love isn't blind,
blind are those,
who never loved.
 Jan 2018 Johndre
winter child
the crowd went silent after they asked her
“how much do you love him?”
they were not aware of the question
might as well took it as a joke, but
those words were enough to mute her
as she began to stutter–
her eyeballs shaken
water started to fill up the surface of her white
a smile crept into her lips after the answer left them
“I wished him happiness more than I’ve done to myself”

they would never understand.
 Jan 2018 Johndre
Idiosyncrasy
I tried to make this poem different
But then I realized
If there's one thing I'm good at
It would be writing about you
About your smallest movements
No one seems to notice
Like the way you flick your hair when you get nervous
About the surprises in you
Like your soft cry to belong, to matter
When all people see is a hard rock
They never knew it was a build up of tears
And about the things I will never have the chance to tell you again
Like when you're nervous or afraid, I'll be there
But I won't tell you not to fear
Because there are some things we have to be afraid of
Or hey, you were my rock
The one thing I held on to
And I will cradle you
Your softest whispers
And the salty water you come with
Because
You belong with me
You will always matter.
I was thinking of continuing this poem and perform it as spoken word but lately I haven't been sure if I still want to say these.

And please leave suggestions if you have some. I'd appreciate it so much. Thanks :).

— The End —