Its days like these that made me think,
What would it be like, if I were in you arm,
Abstracts shapes traced on your skins,
fingers caressing any skin exposed,
as a results of being comfortable with you.

I kept thinking and thinking,
What would it be like if fate were on my side,
Will I get to see you?
I kept imagining how we will meet,
different scenarios plotted in my minds with one similarity,
You being in front of me.

Out of all people I decided to fall for, it chose you.
I suppose fate is by my side.
Fate wants me to leave you alone, to watch you from afar,
As the possibility of me hurting you when we're together,
Hurts me more than when Fate do put us together,
I just hope Fate place you with someone who dearly cherishes you,
Just like how I do.

- kimin

everything reminds me of that moment,
the sun rising and descending,
wind caressing skins, gently as it cools me down,
words phrased identically to the past,
cheeks rising up as a sign of nonchalant,
yet heart falls deeper to the stomach as
mind swallows words whole.

never trust a poet's words
they sound sweet at first
but you'll notice the emotion in their words
it all sounds too...
fake
"i love you like the sea loves the shore"
becomes too scripted
you hear the small tinge of love actually left in their voice
hoping
hoping it could mean something
but it doesn't
it never does
it's just the way they say it
one day, after they have left
you will find their poems, and they will be the exact words that they had said to you
once long ago

One day, you’ll fall deeply and irrevocably in love
with the nape of the neck and the lobe of the ear
you’ll want to nibble just above the edge of the jaw
and run your fingers through the tousled spirally hair,
but the slight quiver of curved lips will halt you in thoughts
as the darting pupils furtively flutter behind closed eyelids
searching for a break of dawn in the shadows of a room
where dust hangs heavily then settles in unsuspecting lungs
making the rise and fall of the chest raspy and laborious,
making nostrils flare up to make room for something less heavy
something more familiar, more light and less lugubrious,
something like a touch on the curve of the neck just below
the edge of the jaw and a whisper of something gentle
that nibbles on the ear as erring fingers run through spirally hair,
sending waves of shivers that make curved lips quiver and
darting pupils flutter enough to one day break open closed eyelids
where you’ll fall deeply and irrevocably in love.