one day, he woke up,
and the day felt like a thousand others.
he reached for the phone and texted her.
she did not respond.
maybe work was busy, he thought.
the day went by. he put
lots of creamer and sugar
in his coffee. the coffee spilled
over the counter, dripped
onto the floor. he sighed and
wiped it carelessly, so it smeared
into brown patches and lines.
he got a book and started to read.
then he put it down and grabbed the phone again.
still no reply from her. he sent another text, asking
where she was. maybe she was very busy, he thought.
the afternoon arrived. he took a nap.
got into a bad dream. something happened,
he forgot. he almost always forgot why
he had cried hopelessly in such dreams.
she still did not write him back.
he wondered if he should call her.
but maybe not.
she got annoyed when work was busy and he called her and she could not talk right away, for she would not stop wondering what it was that he wanted to talk about. and it would probably lead to a small argument, which would lead to bigger arguments, which would end up with her being in tears and him feeling guilty, which would end up with them trying to make it up with ***, which would end up with him not being able to come, which would end up with her feeling upset because he could not come, and him feeling incompetent because she could not come either, and them being all melancholic and what not, and so on and so forth.
so he decided it was best not to call her.
she did not come home at the usual hour.
he kept glancing at the door, peaking his ears to noises from the street
the way a dog waited for its owner to be home at a certain time.
with every passing minute he grew more and more worried.
he texted her again. then immediately after called her.
and he called and he called and he called.
it kept going into voice mail.
he hated voice mail. he left her a few messages.
no responses.
she got home a few hours after,
looking tired as usual. apologized for being late.
said traffic was bad, then she got too hungry she
stopped at a diner and had a quick bite.
she wanted to call him but there was no reception.
her phone was acting up.
something like that.
he did not really smell food from her
not that he had enough time to take a sniff
for she had gone straight to the bathroom
to take a shower. when she got out,
he was sitting at the table, staring into the air
into nothing. her scent was soft, familiar,
and he could feel her smile and gaze upon him.
she sat down and kissed the side of his forehead,
asked him if he had eaten dinner.
he said he was not hungry. she took his hand,
placed her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.
they sat still for a few minutes. then he asked
if she wanted anything from the fridge.
i would have some apple cider, she said.
he got them some apple cider. they drank it.
then she said let's go to bed.
he followed her. they got into bed,
turned the head lamp off, kissed each other good night,
and closed their eyes.
he wondered what was on her mind.
she wondered what was on his mind.
and they kept wondering
until they both
fell asleep.

Give me a sky full of stars,
give me you,
then I shall have nothing to lose.

Walk me through the woods
of your true sanity.
Let me take you on our own trail.
You could tell
from the sounds of broken leaves,
dried branches, and sparkling stars,
no one else has ever gone this far
to find love.

Hands in each other's coat pocket,
we walk toward the
empty center of our hearts,
listen to our favorite music,
the soundtrack of the night
while the stars are dancing to the notes of our voices,
laughters, and the warmth of our fingers
upon each other's smiles.

Take me home with your eyes,
leave our field of stars behind.
It will be there if we come back.
*Even if we never will.

You wrap me in the crumbled foil and
  burn me, breathe me in
    slowly, and I rise,my soul
       in each blow of smoke
          into the air, as you keep some of it
             to yourself. I keep wondering
          how long I truly last,
       every time you put me on fire.
Maybe you do not remember.
               You have long forgotten what it means
                                                    to be addicted to me.
        I am something you just do
                out of a habit you have had
        and it no longer means anything to be gotten rid of
              so you keep me here, and whenever you wrap me
                 in aluminum,
              I would slowly vanish into the air,
         fill up your soul, and
                                             deepen your emptiness.

Even when I am not thinking of you,
I am always thinking about you.
The shadow of the thought involving you
is enough to make me smile,
give me hope, let time slide
down the sides of my eyes
along with the most bitter of my tears
So what remains is no longer fear;
just a calmness I have never felt before
as I slowly set myself on an endless desire
Maybe you really are
my life.

Maybe I need nothing else
but a short moment of truth
masked with expectations
and prior experience.
Maybe you need nothing else
but a single audience
who can never demystify any of your tricks
Maybe all we need is a mutual feeling
or rather, the exact same wish.
What do I know if you never tell?
It is hard, so hard to believe
either of us deserves any of this
We finally see, with our own eyes,
what it is like to be seen
how it feels like to be held
where it hurts the most to be loved.

I doubt I truly feel any of this.

Maybe I'm just too full of ****
to actually know
how to return your love.
But I do not mind, and nor do I care,
when I am with you life seems utterly fair
and makes perfect sense
I would never have to ask
if you are feeling the same way I do.

Even if life stopped right here
I would not be so upset
for my only regret
would be just one:
I could never tell you before I die
how much you make me want to stay alive
in this world
this very world

why don't you sit down with me
and watch the day go by?
I never did it before they
sent me to this place.

it is not as scary
as you think.
in fact, it is so quiet
even its ghosts are leaving.
the youngest ones at least.
the oldest are too tired to dream
of a better place, and thus
have decided to stay,
and every night
we talk about the past,
of how things used to be.

they tell great stories
for they stop telling lies
after their lives, long lives.
so many memories,
it would take more than eternity
to revisit each and every of them
try to understand what it means
and forget all of the what-if's.

if letting go is so difficult for the dead,
imagine how it is like for the living.

and so I have learned to forgive
myself, and those around me -
loved ones or strangers.
though I wish I could tell them
to take it easy, love life,
love love, appreciate,
do all the things that make them happy.
they will have all the time in the world
to ponder sadness, to be resentful,
to weep, to scream
afterwards.

so, young one, in your busy life,
once in a while,
give yourself a little time
to feel the angle of the winds,
know the depth of your living sky,
catch the color of the raindrops,
learn that every tree is different from one another
and you could recognize each of them
like the faces you have known.

and every once in a while,
close your eyes,
and open up your soul
to feel the grand stillness of time
that lasts forever in a single kiss,
to be caressed
by the fragile tenderness
of love.

these are some of the things
I have learned from the living
and from the dead.
you shall listen
to both, or either,
but not those who are dead
while they are still breathing.
they do not know where to go,
and thus, cannot give you directions.
if they try, you will either be hurt with a lie,
or a desperate attempt they make to feel alive
through you.

thank you for visiting.
if you ever come back,
bring me some stories
about the sea, for all of us here
long to go there, but we can only
recall and imagine it.
I long to feel the water
all around me.
its depth and vastness
are the dream we have
about a place where we can
completely
let go.

What if we are just characters
in someone else's dream?
What happens when he wakes up?
Will he remember us?
Will I remember you?

Somebody once told me,
in our tender embrace,
"Love is all there is."

I told him to take it day by day,
to live and love in the very moment.
For I would probably leave him the next.

He took my advice
and stayed in love with me
every single moment he existed.