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jrunje Sep 2018
stilted conversations, stiff postures
sitting so you don't touch one another
when one minute feels like an hour
and our friendship has gone past sour

who walked out first? who can say
it all happened in less than a day
i hear you've been asking about me
i've been thinking how we let things be

there's not much use feeling blue
so i'm sitting here writing about you
i'm back.
  Mar 2017 jrunje
wordvango
have you heard the wind
the trees rustle
the wings fly by
the sea roar
watched the mountain
and wonder
sink down
on your knees
knowing this is life
the end the beginning
we are no more
than a bird a mountain a tree a leaf
a wave crash on the shore
a shell
maybe a sunrise
or a moon on the horizon
but nothing more
jrunje Aug 2016
i've cut myself trying to learn
how to bleed flowers
finding allure in my veins
but the scars cloud over
making my skin a barren land
and i am desolate once again.
jrunje Jan 2016
missing you was
like living your dream
come true
then finding out
that was all
it ever was -
just a dream.

missing you was
like making two cups of coffee
in the morning
before reality punches you
in the stomach
or worse yet -
in the chest.

missing you was
sleeping on the left side of the bed
afraid to touch the right side
leaving it unmade,
the way it was -
the day you left.

missing you was
above all, i think
just a game of waiting
for you
to return.
jrunje Dec 2015
it's 7:24pm and i catch a glimpse of the first star.
involuntarily, i close my eyes.
i know what i'm going to wish for.

it's 11:11 at night and my alarm goes off.
a reminder i set for myself so that i can
once again
dedicate my 11:11 wishes to you.

it's 2am and i still haven't caught a wink of sleep.
i missed the "are you up?" text
two years ago
and i haven't gone to bed before 2am since.
this is how it goes down every night.


you taught me the importance of numbers
but you're too abstract a concept for me to comprehend.
it's always been you.
jrunje Nov 2015
my favourite colour are your eyes.
blue, with just the right amount of green flecks in them that light up so beautifully when you smile.
how they would trace the shape of my lips and how mine would trace yours.

my favourite shape are your hands.
i could never quite get over the mystery of how perfectly they fit mine,
fingers interlocked.
the roughness of your palm as opposed to the warmth of your skin.

my favourite song are your lips
mouthing the words, "i love you".
how it felt like music dancing in my ears though not a single syllable was said.
how it started up the frantic drumming of my heart, as though trying to match its beat to the rhythm of your lips.

you used to ask me why
i always spelt favourite with a 'u'.
i think i didn't know it then, but i realise now
that these things wouldn't
be my favourite if there was u.
jrunje Nov 2015
you are the song I sing in the shower
the line in the book I read over and over
the place I pass by everyday on my way to school
the scarf I always wear to keep me warm

you are unforgettable.
like the fairy tale my parents used to read to me every night
like the smell of the earth before it rains
like the scar I've had when I fell from a tree
like the tear that spills over even though I try to conceal it with a smile
like the shoe I wear so often it's falling apart at the sole
like the ring that digs into my flesh but I refuse to take out
you are unforgettable.

my mother told me never to play with fire.
I should've known you'd never love me back.

— The End —