the sun on my window refuses to set
overcast, still
and raindrops from yesterday's drizzle
remain wet.
weather is still normal,
unchanged
as if i am in a photo and only i could move.

though once the cigarette is lit,
time starts passing again
like an old friend leaving you slowly.

if ever he comes back,
i won't ask him to stay again
because the world is cruel,
i am beaten,
and time's the only friend
you want to leave
to heal.

my hands are a clamshell
open little

beneath the blue around me
I await the red to come
to smother
fill me
Full

because in this world where blues are cold
our bodies are red
and mine's waiting for you

i can see you
eye to eye
but will i ever be
the only one in your mind?

i know your body
inch by inch
but will you ever crave
for the touch of my hands?

i know you never will
you're a virus
eating me whole, and whole again
replacing my senses with yours
only to find myself dead
and lost in my own soul

you are what i see
in my shattered self
broken but wanting
always wanting you
but i know i'll never be yours
never was
never am

never will.

me
i grew up dreaming
that all good things happen
maybe in real life it does too
but i realised
life doesn't work
when you try reaching the stars.
all you can get
is air

you
dreamt of what's real
you knew the injustice
of hoping for the irrational
because you know the stars
are dead
and their shine
is hope
in illusion.

me
the ground
the mountains, reaching for you
you are the one that fills the gaps
between what i lost
and what i have yet to find
yet dreams will still be dreams
and my hands will never be long
and enough
to fill the space between
you and me.

you
the sky
you stretch your arms
you plague my existence with yours
and everyone above me
desires for your touch
what bothers me are the times when
you let your guard down
when you don't have to
and i feel you
just because i crave to.

me
i always want you.
i always do.
but if all i can get is air
while you're miles away
and if i'll be drowned
with your hellish hurricanes
and torturous storms
what could you make of me?

us
what could be?
will it be?
i have questions unanswered
but if there's one thing i'm certain of
it would be
there's no me in you
and there's
you in mine.

I wish the clock will never strike 12 tonight
and it would stop
so the world
won't move.

Only then my own warriors will help me
walk up to you
frozen and still, and I'd sheepishly whisper
"I love you"

Maybe you'd realize that
the lights you wish on
aren't the only ones you need.

Maybe you'd realize that
the dead hands you hold on to
aren't the only ones that are free.

Maybe you'd hear her heartbeat
and realize that hers does not follow
the skipping and tapping of your feet.

Maybe the clock can strike 12
and my infinite qualms about us
would end
and the veneers we have
would descend.

Because in our game of chase
you run to her
and i remain the fool.

if your deep bellows find you
the thorns of treason reach you
and the definite uncertainty leads you
will you search for me?

in times of unending loneliness,
infinite breathlessness,
and permanent darkness,
will you think of me?

i have been long waiting
but you're abrasive, misleading
will you only need me
if all options aren't working?

i will be less obtrusive
maybe a little more observant
you need a little more time to be lost
to find the things you need in life

but for the meantime,
i'll be the snake
silently preying over you.

if the world is a canvas,
your hands can form lines
that connect us together

tell me all the mediums
you create our world into
the castles we live in
the stories of our forever

we are never steady
but these textures
always build the feeling
of the future we are having

so promise me
one thing
and one thing only

let us be our creators
and creations