Baring your soul to someone is like offering your love without expecting something in return—either good or bad.
You give someone the chance to skin you slowly and infiltrate your mortal demerit.
And lastly, you're wide open as you welcome wreckage.

People tend to like the pretty people. Those with big eyes, cute nose, long hair and rosy cheeks. People with skinny stature, flat stomach or long legs. People who perfectly coincide with the society's standards of beauty. And she's not a pretty person. She can't make people turn their heads when she walks in the room and she can't make boys swoon with just one smile. She's the kind of person you would label as a friend but never as a lover if you're one of those who never truly sees people's worth and heck, she's a treasure, a precious gem. People are so ******* blind not to see how she's a blessing into this world. She's loving and kind and her heart is made of gold and yet she goes around offering it to strangers she meet at cheap coffee shops downtown. When she smiles, her eyes form crescent moon shapes that the night sky envies her. When she speaks, the mountains roar and the ground shakes in fear for her thoughts echo louder than any silence has. And she may not be pretty to other people, but God, she's ethereal to me.

ㅡ *him when he was asked to describe the person he loves

Curse the stars!
For ours were not aligned.

be careful with who you put your heart on your sleeve for;
they might accidentally crush it when reaching for your hand.


l . c

don't let others
write poetry about you
it'll start off with the stars in your eyes,
the strut in your walk,
the touch of your skin;

you'll read about the way you smile,
or the soft sent of rose your hair illuminates;
the way your voice flows like a sweet summer song,
or the way you never speak too little or too much.

don't let others write poetry about you
it'll start off with the stars in your eyes
but it'll always
end
in heartbreak.

Acetic Acid*

Did you darken my skin?
Have you erased
any traces of light within?
You turned heartless,

I became lifeless,
all that life inside my bones
wasted in all the minutes
my analog clock ticked,

Proving to me you were never
going to keep your promises,
and it wasn't a matter of time.

I know now it was not
the fear of failure that kept you
from trying.
It was the fear of responsibility,
for you could never take any.