Unlike the missing piece
on a puzzle;
an incomplete work of art,

the unfinished
written poem,
and the scribbles
along the walls.

A blank canvas
caught by the eye
could give
the greatest lesson
of them all...


Emptiness isn't worst
after all.

I wonder where,
and how,
and in what form
shall we meet
again...

You see it coming
without knowing when
and from nowhere you knew
you’d shake your hand
with death

the thing is
you’d never be
prepared
nor be enough
to calm

when waves
began to swallow
your boat,

you’d be gone
in the shore
of grief.

He's the wind,
I'm a dust.
Maybe I might as well
learn how to accept...

We weren't supposed
to breathe
the same air.

The ambiance you left in your room
Your name carved
on a wooden cabinet

The smell of your perfume
in someone else's shirt

and that stupid song from
a neighbor's radio
you used to sing

The wilted flower
between the pages
of my old dusty journal

That
beautiful tragic love story
I'd never get over with...

I never thought I could be at my best
when I learned how to sew all the rips
my heart hath gone thru.
Never had I imagined
how good I was in concealing
all the emotions I had to make thru.
Never had I noticed
how my hands ached
for not wiping a single tear
my eyes have kept.
Never had I let him see
how badly beaten my soul is.

And with these...

never had I realized
how all the wounds bleed
without feeling a single twinge.