This is where I sat, beside you on the bedside.
Looking from here, everything seems to be right.
We laughed, danced and chatted all night.
Taking pictures together, we try to project happiness in our minds.

Bright environment and happy faces.
The weirdest gestures and silly comments.
Those memories that seems to happen just yesterday,
We were merry and all of a sudden, it all goes away.

Laughing, singing then conversing.
Just one funny argument is what's needed to ruin the the whole thing.
Just a remark that's not well thought of is what's left.
An act of unlovingness is what comes next.

We fight, scream and throw things together.
This bond we share is what we called "disgust for each other."
Compromising, forgiving and forgetting the act of another.
That's what we do whenever we fight with one another.

Give it a day, a week, a month or two.
And I'll be finding myself bonding again with you.
The process repeats itself and it's never ending.
We must have miss something from the beginning.

Try, try, try and try, we must.
We'll change, change and change, once more.
Nothing's really happening, my love.
Should we give up trying now?

The change did not made us any wiser.
And the efforts we've put to this thing is what fires up the urge to let go of each other.
Standing from my point of view, a cliff is what awaits us, two.
So we'll try and change again till we're somebody new.

This, us, is going nowhere.
We, on the other hand, should start to focus elsewhere.
We should stop trying now...
We'll just be spinning around and around, not going anywhere.

Compromising, forgiving and forgetting.

Let's just compromise and agree that we're both right.
Forgive each other and ourselves for trying and not being enough, all right?
Forget all that has happened including us and our story.
Take baby steps towards moving on and away from immaturity.

"First, we have to move away from each other, honey.
*I don't know if we could ever be...
lest be willing, again, to consider that possibility."

Here I sat on my bed
With a mouth full of empty words and an empty head.
I feel like I just lost a friend
I feel as if nothing matters in the end.

Here I ponder, looking for the things I long for
Unhappy as I seem to be
I don't really know what to hope for
I think Im just sitting here for nothing at all.

Tiring day, yes it is.
Nothing bad has happened yet gone was the ecstacy
I can't force myself to be happy
Or atleast, smile a bit whenever they're staring at me

Here at my blanket contemplating to sleep
Here at my bed looking like a meak
Writing a poem like a real geek
Figuring how to shove away the sadness that creeps

The body got burned out.
The mind got drained.
The soul got thirsty.

I guess I don't know where this is going
I don't have any idea of what I was doing
I'm just sitting here doing nothing
I guess I will be sitting here until morning

‘The world has left me behind,’ he said,
‘I live my life in the past,
None of the things that I came to love
Survived, they just couldn’t last.
The rails that I rode are overgrown,
The music I loved has gone,
The friends that I made are left in the shade,
Though most of them travelled on.’

The woman who’d answered his ad was sat
Beside him out on the porch,
She’d heard this tale a million times
So she never carried a torch.
She bent her head as she listened to him
And she smiled, her hair was grey,
The years of care were visible there
As her beauty faded away.

‘But wasn’t it all a wonderful ride,’
She sighed, as she thought of him,
The man who’d always been at her side
‘Til he died, his end was grim.
But that was a dozen years ago
And life carried on, though sad,
She wanted to meet a gentle soul
Which was why she’d answered the ad.

‘Why would you want to live in the past
When the past is done and gone,
I tip my hat to the past,’ she said,
‘But the future lures me on.
There’s conversation and love to share
As long as there’s life and breath,
The future’s only a day away,
The end of it all is death.’

He sat up straight and he stared at her
Transfixed by her gentle voice,
The things that stirred in his hardened heart
He’d buried them there by choice.
Behind her eyes was an inner glow
That he hadn’t noticed before,
‘Could you really bring me to life again?’
He said, and his voice was raw.

‘We can take it just one step at a time,’
She said, ‘as we did when young,
The world was such a marvellous place
To explore, like a song unsung,
We’ll bless the sun coming up each day,
To spread its light through our land…’
Then watched the roll of a single tear
As she reached on out for his hand.

David Lewis Paget

We are the stuff of stars,
left here to learn of love.
Learn of that
which was here before us.

To shed this cloak of flesh,
to look deep within two souls,
see the oneness
of the universe.

We are the stuff of dreams,
never to wake from sleep,
or know the mystery
of this life.

We are the stuff of stars,
that trail the night sky,
from dust we came,
and dust we leave behind.

*The Perseids /ˈpɜrsiːɨdz/ are a prolific meteor shower associated with the comet Swift-Tuttle. The Perseids are so-called because the point from which they appear to come, called the radiant, lies in the constellation Perseus. The name derives in part from the word Perseides, a term found in Greek mythology referring to the sons of Perseus.

We are stuck here
We are lost here
Wandering
Here
In this
Sick state of mind
Delusional
Just in time
For more lies
Forcing us
To stay alive
As the monsters
Creep inside

the heart is the most deceitful thing there is.
the brain knows that.
we just find it hard to understand.
  
what we generally perceive as love is nothing
but a mere illussion of what we're missing,
what we want.

the rush of emotions we suddenly experience
is so overwhelming that we can't grasp
its true intention.

we are building false hope in ourselves,
and we feed the thought
and excitement.

when we deeply think about it,
we are just inlove with the thought
of being in love.

it's more of a feel-good trigger
we unleash if we lost that
adrenaline.

it's that fairytale ending we have in our
imaginations that waters the seed
of romance in our hearts.

sad thing is we don't live in a fairytale.
i might insist pessism in your thought,
hey i don't write your love story.

blame it all in the confusion and lies
about love and your fairytale dreams,
your ever-after might not be within reach.

love is an illussion.
a trickery even rocket scientist can't explain.
mind boggling fantasies about prince and princesses.

but there is hope. ( an accomplice)

hope that even if you don't live in a castle nor rule a kingdom
believe that someone will treat you as the princess
far better you imagined yourself.

and when that day comes you might want not stay in neverneverland.
you don't grow old there.
what's the point of i-wanna-grow-old-with-you line?

love is a dangerous and a beautiful thing to enjoy.
its like sinking in a quicksand of bliss.
or swimming in a sea of chocolatey sea of tears.

but remember that in the midst
of everything you
beLIEve
in is a
LIE.

be careful.