i woke up and thought of you.
if our thoughts are somehow connected,
you would have thought of me too,
right?

- kimin

a mattress that served as a comfort,
to my soul and body that ached.
pillows of which that has showered by so many tears, made itself dry to only get fresh new sets of wave.
the constant staring contest between me and the wall.
often time, I wonder who would win?
who would look away first?
blankets that suffocate me,
yet produce sense of comfort in me.
all of which knew, seen and listened to what never been disclosed.

- kimin

I spent every second of the day thinking what should I do?
How can I get rid of you?
I don't want you around me anymore.
Tired of seeing you everywhere I go.
I could map out every single details of you
The way your lips quirks upward
Posture as straight as you carry yourself tall,
Eyes gleam, youthful, somehow the first thing I had noticed.
Your soft yet rough hands reaching out to me,
Your breathing, your scent, your voice.
I see you everyday, that I remember it all.
Listing it down seem almost as if,
As if I'm writing a poetic passage
I've began to feel as though I've analysed you. Your whole being.
I drown myself, not to die but to feel in control.
I couldn't even construct a sentence for the one I claimed to have my heart, yet I've become an analytical person when the subject is you.
So tell me, how do I get rid of you?
I see you in everything I do.
The sun that rise, greeting me in the morning.
The air I breathe, knowing your lungs functions as I do,
Tell me, how do I get rid of you?


- kimin

for some, it frees them,
a craving,
it is given to them,
even when they reject it.
it's liberating, it's reassuring.
it's the end of suffering,
a moment of halt, yet
creates a ruckus.
that is for some.
i never thought death would greet her,
at least not this soon.
my heart told me to brace it,
it rids the torment, the pain.
but i've grown attached.
just as death grew an attachment to her.
i fought, for who i'm not yet ready to let go,
to dominate death, so it can detach itself.
my grip on her, was strong.
i wanted her to focus on me,
to not give death the attention it craves,
for it will too form a much stronger attachment.
i fought so hard.
for a second, your attention was on death,
i could hear it rejoice, knowing it has you.
death gloats itself, prideful for getting you.
but then i got you back.
i wanted to gloat, i wanted to rejoice
just as death was when it had you.
but seeing how sad and disappointed death was on losing you,
i didn't.
instead, i held you.
you were in my grasp, yet your eyes still on death,
i had your attention, but i could read your eyes.
i wasn't in it.
that's when i threw the white flag.
death has a unique taste. a very addictive taste.
you had a sip, and you wanted more.
i didn't try to fight death anymore,
death was not the bad person, but i was.
i kept you here for so long,
forced you to hold onto the pain.
you were gripping, for my sake,
but when i saw the grip marks,
i knew i had to let you go.
your last moment wasn't as grim as i thought,
it wasn't sad. it wasn't a ruckus.
it was peaceful, a beautiful sight.
you let go, as i let you go.
i hand over your hand, to death,
bid you farewell, and asked death to take care of you.

- kimin

I wonder what's the differences between,
A smoke, and a white fog.
They're the same kind.
Both filled the air, both are gases.
When thick, they act as barrier to our sight,
Unable to see, where we are, and our surrounding.
But, white fog does not suffocate me.
White fog does not hurt my eyes.
A smoke caused me to suffocate,
Smoke brings to tear to my eyes.
So I wonder, which one are you?
Do I still call you a white fog, one who caresses me softly?
Or should I stay away from you, a smoke who only makes my eyes swell and cry?
Do I stay? take the risk and find which one you are?
Do I want to know which one you really are?

- kimin

one by one, I start to think,
what is it that i like about you?
was it the way you smile with your eyes shrinks half it size?
the way your lips spread open, showing gums resembled what i'd hoped and wished i could see everyday?
then i think about how it was probably how you stood your ground, calm me down, and picked me up.
Or maybe it was that time where you showed me what you were good at, excitedly with joy that was contagious to all.
What is it that made me infatuated?
you, you, you, you, you.
it has always been that, not him. not her, not me.
you.
you've never really spare me a glance,
maybe you have, but I didn't get to witness it unlike the rest.
This all messes with my head.
Can't you get out?
But only for a while,
I don't think I can last long without thinking about you.
Maybe I can, but I'd be on autopilot with no consciousness of anything.
I supposed it's my own fault.
I got myself in too deep.
Then i decided to dug deeper.
Even with help, i don't think it's possible to get out.
Not that i want to, because maybe, just maybe;
I got too comfortable being here.

- kimin