When I love, I exist.

However, when my love is not welcome, I don't cease to stand a fight. I demand where I invest. But I have my ego tuned to know when it's not worth any struggle anymore.
**** boy, you lifted me up and spurned all those butterflies with your touch of lips, and now you are nowhere when I need you the most. I should be able to understand that. Be it that you are simply a coward and that I was blinded or that's denial from my side, maybe. Denial of the evidence of love not being able to carve the same in you. I should have been awake. Awake when your lies mesmerized and dosed me with the temporary pleasure. Now my skin is thick. It had the temperature riot. I may not forget the pain and cry from time to time but I will learn to survive all those li'l heartaches that kills me soft. I will move on. I will smile and greet another stranger. I will win in love and life.

Say peace (ira).

Kiss me awake.
I shall feel the touch
caressing through
my skin.
and my dreams
Kiss me cold.
I shall see you
through the
pain and joy.
Kiss me love.
And I shall stand
by your side
'til the end.

Sad stories, mostly,
happen when
one don't remember
and the other
won't
forget.

I remember that August
outta the twenty-two of mine,
I remember that church
we monks were invited to,
I remember the safari
that followed, and ah, that rain.
I remember my hairbun
that you undid for that dance.
All I just don't remember is how
we fell in love just smiling together
but I'll always remember this smile
I'll hold with yours in my head.

Baby, let me die a classic,
pull those curtains down;
give me one last dream,
don't hurt me now,
I won't hurt you ever.*


Fifteen years on board and sail,
then Life hit the breaks too fast;
I saw you grow so old, so weak,
and in your hospital ward blues.
I was trying too hard
not to cry, not to shame.

"Hello! Not intending to break this silence between us, but let me tell you this now and I want you to hear like you know that you were meant to hear this.

I see you, friend. I see you from my eyes because you seem to forgot to see through yours, long while ago. I see you rush through your life day after day hoping for a miracle. I see you waiting for a chance to live your dream. I see you double-guarded with all those insecurities you have got. I see you beyond that little negative thought you have on yourself right now. I see you far from all the infinite jokes you ever played on yourself. I see you feel sorry for yourself every other time you are afraid to be yourself. I see you with your constant smirk of hiding things away from the world. I see you falling apart every time you hurt someone. I see you believing me now and embracing these words with your tears. But I also see that all you want is a little more of you. You have to observe these little things you are dreading about is what it takes to define you. You are here in this life to make some ground for yourself and live your life. You need not be ******* yourself, let alone, for others. You are not to bother with others' differences as much as they don't have to bother with yours. You will be fine. You will survive. You are beautiful and perfect, in every sense of this universe which had you in it and thus, made you be you. You will always remain blessed for staying along here on this gigantic-organic boulder. So, stranger to stranger, cheers! Now go, see your life."

The years with him faded promises;
and the nights grew dank cold.

But the father he was to her kids
would beg her to rewrite all the love stories
she ever imagined it would ever be.

I could have been The Falling Man.
No opinions. No intentions of disrespect.
Only a surreal psuedo-pessimist thought.
Always felt something inscrutable
in that drop.

My reference don't tend a joke.
Please don't fuel any sorta controversy.

But can't deny to wonder what
the thoughts would be,
during that fall.
Will the whole spent life flash
in front of our eyes?
Do we become the kindest, humblest of the few and the worthy human
ever lived in that moment?
Do we wish for some last miracle?
Do we still have ourselves cling to
the last scrap of hope of life again?

As I am writing this, my tears
no more stay tamed inside my eyes,
And my heart goes for the massacre lose.
Lose of lives. Loss of humanity.
Old news, yeah, but still hits the soul.

And the fall taunts my thoughts
as I too beg for a second chance
myself.
I shall revive. This is my life.
This thought shall universally exist
and be reasoned with.

"His love was like
falling asleep on an unmade bed,
Like we won't care
by the end of an exhausting day".

"His love was like
those white-lies that never hurt,
the faint rainbow that can't be
photographed,
the soft giggle of an asylum
patient,
that expired gift voucher
in your high school slam book".

55 years into it;
She just smiles and says,
"If that's not love,
I don't know what is".

She lives with her '70s condescending mom,
And her Gods are nonbelievers.
She sulks, swears 'n spits in air
Squandering in profound style
As she wears plaid shirts to
Jimmy Choos,
"feeds her cat, eats her dog",
Keeps a job, quits on true love,
Flirts in no faith with
the guys in the gym,
overlooks men at the bar,
Smiles at the kid in the park,
Laughs at celebrities' mishap,
Sleeps to Indie pop Rock
post two whisky shots.
But hey, she's too far from
any breakdown.

Soon enough, I'll move on.
I will not even try to remember
how I met you in the first place.
Soon enough, I will ignore
if I ever heard the sound of your name.
I won't give a hint about you
to the next interesting man
I may befriend.
Soon enough, your words, ideas, jokes, love and memories
will fade away from me.
Fade fast like a thin-malnourished
ghost.
Soon enough, this world won't even
feel déjà vu when it sees
another couple's kiss and
promise of forever.
Soon enough, this pain will start to subside.
Meanwhile these pills must start their work.

Just an usual lazy-mode play,
as I sat before this
site of wondrous, happy-to-write,
chuckled long and deep,
wormed through acclaims' poets;
I find you from nowhere
as I did truly forgot
how I got you on my screen,
in my likes, in my mind,
sane side of it all,
for all you wrote
was sour ***,
bitter *** and your happy ones,
with clever words that mostly swore.
If I were a moody Sylvia head,
you are, sure, a shady Ted.
I fess I must leave sooner
or else I will pucker too much
and drop my tongue
down your throat
but I had my chastity,
I remember having it last night, honey;
so I shall prep for a hot water bath
and wear it all over again
but you may have to sleep
with all but one less lover girl.