you have never given me
a reason to stay with you anyway.
why should i risk everything?

wishing on stars that only stare back
sitting on abandoned railroad tracks
staring at the blinding moonlight
wishing on the distant city lights
straying a bit too far away
talking with intensifying heart flames

a stomach filled with bitter things
hanging out at the abandoned swings
falling asleep with the tv on
knowing that he's already gone
sleeping on tear-soaked pillowcases
trying to feel the old embraces

looking at the infinite ceiling
nights spent with prayers, kneeling
creating conversations that work your way
watching your once red roses start to decay
ruffled book pages and messy photo albums
contemplating over living in an asylum

no matter how much different nights you spend
your heart still seems like it couldn't be mended
no matter how much you try to push these thoughts aside
you'll still be left with a broken chest and teary eyes
you only wish to bid these bitter things away
but no matter how much you try, these empty nights still stay

i am afraid of having to feel
this way towards you.
this is familiar,
it is a warning sign perched
on the edge of a cliff,
and i am the clueless traveler
blinded by the sunlight and
the colors of the sky.
you are the bottom of
the seemingly infinite cliff,
and i'm contemplating over
jumping or not,
because before, the others
have only let me crash
and never thought of catching me.
i'm not sure if you are
the water or the ground.
i feel all of this only for you,
and it happens as fast as a blink.
and love, i blink a million times a day.
and it scares me to death every time.

sleeping together is a beautiful thing. and by that, i mean falling asleep next to each other. you are vulnerable, and nothing else is stronger than your eyelids shut tight. you can feel the heat sheltered by his skin pressed against yours, making you feel that comfortable feverish feeling that you used to get when you were nine. you memorize each other's bodies even while asleep, through subtle breathing patterns and little body twitches. when you bump into his body, you'll know you're secure, and you no longer have the need to hide under the covers to feel a little protected, especially when it's a warm night. unconsciously, you hold him, and for once in your life, someone holds you back the way you wanted to be held -- with heavy eyelids and sleepy fingertips that hang loosely from the edges of your shirt. his eyelashes would touch your forehead, leaving you with dreams that you will remember when you wake up. and when you wake up in the middle of the night, still in his grip, you'll document everything in your mind. you'll become an artist even for thirty seconds, just to keep these things that isolated corner of your mind, the one you've always been saving for something for so long. falling asleep next to each other is a beautiful thing.

you are my favorite regret --
you are the only one
who can make me cringe
at the memories of us
on a drunken night
with only the lamp faintly glowing.

you remind me of a battlefield.
you have a sword for a tongue
and i have only bare skin as my shield.
with every cruel word you mutter,
i begin to bleed,
and surrender to them.

allow your voice to venture out into the world
either consciously or unconsciously.
somewhere, someone is listening
to the words you speak —
when you mutter out the words
right before you write them,
or when you whisper out a familiar name
during your slumber.

let yourself be heard;
do not confine these treasures
under layers of nerves and blood vessels.
do not keep it armored in your heart.
these words all deserve
to make a hollow mind filled
such as mine.
i will listen to you, so long as you speak.

that's when your thoughts **** you. it's raining, and the white noise is wrapped up around your soul, leaving you cold even without touching the raindrops. you stare at blank space without even blinking once. and when you do, a clap of thunder echoes in the distance, and the raining gets harder. it's as if your horrible thoughts are directly proportional to the strong downpour of the metaphorical tears you've been keeping in for so long. that's when you pull the trigger -- when all you hear is the rain and the words you almost said, but never did, making you feel like you have a fish bone stuck in your throat. the raining gets harder and harder, but you think twice about it because you can't tell the difference between the sound of your heart breaking and the sound of angry rain collapsing on your roof.

and then it all stops. it all stops, but your hope is dwindling. it stops, but you don't see things the same way ever again. you're alive, but you feel more dead than ever. that's when you know your thoughts have killed you.