I like sleeping with your arm under my head,
you holding me close to the skin above your heart,
occasionally running your fingers through my hair.

Sometimes I turn away from you
only to enjoy more the warmth of your embrace from behind my back.

I like it when you rest your head over my chest.
I love the way our fingers intertwine.
I like breathing in your familiar scent.
I like sensing your presence around me
especially when I first open my eyes in the morning
to see you right there.

Many times the comfort makes me not want to wake up,
so I could stay right by your side for a little longer, and a little longer.
I wish those moments had extended into eternity
as long as eternity involves you,
as long as your heart involves me.

Tonight, once again, just seems like a very silly joke
with me lying on my bed without you next to me.
How am I going to feel in the morning
if my heart already aches this way at night?

I want to crawl back into your arms.
Sleep like a baby with you.
I want to feel you as my world,
one completely separated from the one that is separating us.

He quickly forgot to hold her hands the way she loved it.
Who remembers those things after having stained the sheets?

The pain keeps turning her like a leaf in the wind
not seeing where it comes from,
or where it will go, for all it knows
is being swirled away in a state of chaos.

Her sense of right and wrong was dislocated,
as she keeps thinking back to how good things feel,
forgetting that one is not supposed to cling onto memories
of sensations. They delude you, make you ignore,
turn you away from seeing
where exactly it hurts.

She resists from calling him to not appear
desperate. Needy. Clingy. Anxious.
He is given more freedom than he needs,
which slightly surprises him.
Perhaps she does not care either.

Their twisted sense of communications
has brought the relationship
to where two people are not meant to be.
It is where the *** is incredulously fantastic,
while the non-*** is incredibly empty.

You're always somewhere else.
I'm never here.
What is the chance of us ending up
together?

And yet it happened one autumn night
right upon our curious lips,
in between our intertwined fingers,
as the candle flickered to tell us
where we were. I forgot our spacetime
as you slowly broke opened
my heart. You found your way in
and for the first time I felt comfortable
being exposed, vulnerable, explored,
entered. Your growing presence became
more and more filling. I'd never known
I had so much emptiness.
It was my first time
feeling lonely no more
in the world.

Thank you for having brought
my lost little heart home
with yours.

during nights like tonight I cannot stay at my place, must find an excuse to go out.
    little sister wrote about her headache. hated this time of the day. felt like she wanted to die.
    I have that feeling too. around four to six p.m. these days, the night comes quickly.
    one friend said, ‘do not come to my city these days, the grieving sadness of the sky makes people depressed.
    I wanted to say, ‘would your city be more melancholic than mine?’
    I always pick up my walking steps, sometimes slightly scared of the people around.
    the glances colored grey, oppressed, like the reality between them and me. the distance between us.
    our hearts do not seem to bear any resemblance.
    I am loyal to someone, devote my admiration to only him, do not want to look at anybody else, do not want to think of anyone else.
    yet do not love him.
    do not feel comfortable unfolding my heart to him. do not really trust him.
    since my first breath, I cannot fully trust others, perhaps as much as ninety-nine percent.
    due to the remaining one percent, never have I ever been able to love a person.
    the first glimpse of love already comes with the guilt of betrayal.
    because of one percent.
    I meet a friend, laugh, talk, and have dinner.
    before ordering food I already imagine its flavor in my mouth.
    suddenly just want to close my eyes
    forget about all of this.
    perhaps, after six p.m.,
    when darkness emerges,
    I will be slightly more cheerful.
    collect some happiness, some hope,
    no need for anything extravagant,
    bringing me from one moment to the next safely.
    because of a little of the unnamed things,
    because of one percent that has not been given,
    I have many times saved myself from
    the wheels that move so fast.
    the every day that passes by so fast.
    only my despair,
    so slow

Are you confused when I talk to her in our language, yet
it is completely out of context, you just laugh it off because you
have no idea?

Are you confused when I do not look into your eyes, let out
a weary, wicked smile; and you think I just daydream, but
the night is already here?

Are you confused when your phone keeps ringing as if
somebody has been frustrated to hear your voice even
just for one minute, yet I just leave you there?

Are you confused when the things I used to do
for you are slowly disappearing, and your passionate questions
just hang unanswered in the air?

Are you confused when the apartment looks exactly
the same, clean and a little neater perhaps, but you can no longer
smell the aroma of my hair?

Are you confused when they ask you why we broke up,
why someone like me would leave someone like you,
and you really do not know what to share?

My dear, I was even more confused than that. I was
not myself with you any more, but when I really saw
you – I made up my mind and could not be late
for another minute.

it doesn't really matter
that one day in the winter
you were mesmerized watching her
lick tiny transparent bubbly flakes of snow
that fell upon her tongue

but ever since, whenever your skin is closest to me,
your eyes turn away from mine.
you can't bring yourself to look into my soul and see yours,
can you? our love is something you must convince yourself
to be true. you have been through many things like this
even your kisses have worn out. you have no desire of me
except for the madness of my words - encouraged by your
apparent existence in the world and within
my own. you are the worst pretender i have ever met
and the most sincere soul of misery i have
ever loved.  i'm sorry for the pain you have brought
upon yourself because you long for pure love, true love,
and you can't afford to break my heart the way
someone else broke yours. so you stay, so you smile,
so you do what you think will make my sadness a bit
easier. you think so, you do. you didn't think i would
be able to hear the silent sigh you left
on the side of my neck as I held on
to your arms during the loneliness of a
cold winter night

this song is for you and me as we walk hand in hand
away from it all
knowing we will from now on go forever
into the breadth of our longest winter
that spreads itself over the course
of a slow white death

autumn
the wind came by, and I forgot to ask
if it’d seen you.
rain
on the other side of the crowd you ran, your face
became so strange.
late night affairs
shitfaces everywhere, she almost poured her wine on the grass
I saw you getting ***** at her laughters.
people’s assumptions
they look at any couple, and immediately
“they must’ve ****** each other”
the truth of the matter is
you never know
what actually happens
in this life’s show
everything hides beside a mirror
yet all you can see
is your own horror.
But perhaps
I’m about to get over you
before the snow
right before the snow

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.

Dear Gentlemen,
May I share with you a secret?
Some of you have already known,
some might overlook it.

No matter what your Lady says,
she loves it when you call her.

Her "If you're busy it's ok" is really not ok.
Your "I'm too busy to call" is definitely not ok.

No matter how busy you are,
you can always make time for your beloved.

A phone call, even with no conversational substance,
makes her believe you two are closer.

A phone call, even just a quick "I just miss you that's all",
strengthens her devotion.

A phone call, every now and then,
lets her known she is on your mind,
reminds her of you,
makes the sense of togetherness shine through.

So, Gentlemen,
no matter how much poetry you have written for her,
how much love you dedicate to her,
how many flower bouquets you send her,
every now and then, do yourself a favor,
put everything else aside (no multitasking!)
to call her on the phone.

If you are married,
call from work.
If you share the same place,
call from outside.
If you meet way too often,
call when you do not.

The more frequent your name appears on her little screen,
in her smart, love-coated mind,
The more grossly exaggerated your time of devotion will be.

Dear Ladies,
sorry that I slipped out our secret.
It just ***** not hearing that special ringtone
(you know, the one only his calls make)
a little more often,
doesn't it?

next time
I see a train coming fast enough
I will not
fail

When I think of you, the world
leaves me, and I see us
at the end of the realm of loss,
embracing the closeness of each other.

My skin behind yours everywhere
we touch,
and I never want this as much
as when I am with you.

Only when I am with you
do I want to keep my eyes open,
sometimes, just a little bit,
so I could take you in deeper
with the sight of your
beautiful face, the feel of your
wonderful body, the sounds
of your whispers, moans and laughter.
What I need
is more than us, more than everything
we have ever told each other,
for I miss you, no matter what
I always come back to you, and
with you I know, it will
always feel so right.
I could hardly hide
my admiration, my needs, my wants,
my desires; and I could hardly wait
until we both
explode
and vanish
into this universe.

I miss you: the unique tone of your words,
the high and low notes of your voice,
the way you hold your wine glass
- how I adore your rough, handsome fingers! -
the shape of your smile,
the way your shoulder blades stick out,
the angle of your hips,
the length from the bottom to the tip,
and
the subtle sadness in your eyes
when I place my lips on you,
dance my fingers around you,
feel the furthest point of your body
under my tongue, leaning
against the back of my throat, and then
your hardness fall between my softness,
as my flow of life blends into yours.

Yet my memories, my deepest ones,
started one early morning
when you said hello to me,
when you were so gentle,
when you were still the unknown,
but somehow,
closer to my heart than you are now.
The more we know about each other
the further apart we get, even though
we have become more casually comfortable
with each other's presence, the growing intensity
of my emotions,
the endless, exhausting questions
from the part of me
that longs for what we cannot be
together.

He said, "I only knew of one way to love you, and it
was not how you wanted it. What could we do
not to let go of everything we've had?"

And I cried
for not knowing the answer as I
always did. I wanted
no one else but him, I remembered
every second we shared. My eyes
were forever locked in the direction of his.

Events change against our will, taking us
away from where we want to be, what we dream together, and
other secrets between two lovers.

Every moment would play in my mind
over and over like a shameless promotion
of "everything you've ever wanted"
yet when you make the call,
"everything" is now out of stock.

Every night I woke up
to the empty side of my bed,
the empty void in my heart, knowing
they would always belong to him.

If we must move on
how would I even begin
talking laughing kissing loving
the way I did with him in my life?
How would I forgo my habits
that fit perfectly with his?
How would I forget his name
written on my soul and body?

i say hello to the sky, and i say goodbye
to the nights that ended on a morning like this,
with sunlight embracing the brick walls
and the winds around brown trees' arms,
together laughing and dancing.

here i quietly sing along with the rhythm of spring.
the windows finally open, for it is hard to turn away
from a brisk, beautiful day, from the wishes
of the lover who insists we shall be on our way,
taking passionate laughters towards the beaming park.

it takes longer to walk with arms around shoulders,
but the young does not care about time, does she?
she swirls in rhymes, bringing forth her own tunes of shine.
she has made me once again remember
the liveliness which follows the ache of winter.

And Mama said children of strength never cried in front of others, for
tears proved a lack of control. I asked, did you not cry
when you saw me for the first time? She said,
no, I restrained from screaming, and I was
relieved.
With a smile,
perhaps.

Ever since, happiness to me
is the emptying of a stuffed stomach.

I get it – the blues of voices blurred into a shared distance,
restless eyes upon the prize of recognition
never larger than their own.

It is not the first time I see swollen pride
but it makes me ashamed of myself
to see the mirrors of my species blinding one another.

If only could we drop it
and let us become true,
at least,
to ourselves.

Our summer is coming to an end.

Days fall short of love's breath, lingering touch,
making it seem ridiculous for me to turn away.
Nights of urban solitude have completely covered us,
why are you still closing your soul?

The vastness of not being able to grasp
how it feels to be you
has driven me so **** mad
like a river losing its way on the path to the ocean.

Why are you so free in this relationship?
Why can't I just let you go?

Not that I could hold you back when you want to leave.
You of freedom, of individualism, of utmost liberty.
The thought of separation after all we've had
turns me into the ghost of myself.

Sun, and a very pale blue sky
I was here many sunny days before*

Summer is close,
and I am afraid
I will not survive the walls of heat
closing in on us.
We bend our backs grasping for air
only to drown ourselves deeper in tears;
tears that burn
the way tomorrow burns out today.
The sun only brings me fear.

Today has burned out yesterday.
The sun is near
I'm still here.
I've got nowhere to go.

The sunrays pass by my closed eyelids
bringing me by a thousand years.
I am going through the infinite nowhere.
Will you be there?

Will you remember
the last day of light on earth
when we smiled at each other
before we no longer
belong to a reality
lit by sunlight?

Here comes the explosion
of the last fire.
Goodbye,
my Love.

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.

Let me take you to the realm of the past.
You know it was not pretty, you know it was sad.
But it was me before you arrived;
I was darkness before you were light.

I went through many lifetimes, many fights,
many women, many regrets.
I've never stopped loving any of those eyes
when they looked at my back as I left our beds.

The nights when I sneaked out and made phone calls,
tried to pretend that in the morning they would be all gone.
I thought I could hear the sighs, so soft,
tearing through the blind of darkness like thorns.

The same torment you all inflict upon yourselves
has got me immunized. I've watched every single one
walking out of my life after slapping on my face.
Where do you draw that strength from such little hands?

I feel you wanting to run away from me.
I feel you growing scared, worrying you have already
fallen into a deep trap. But neither of us
is meant to escape love, this love we have.

You tell me you're smelling death, and your face
has turned purple. I sit and watch you
struggle with your emotions, with your pains,
and as always I feel completely helpless.

If I ask you now, "Do you love me?",
you will say no. You are still in love
with him. Have you ever, for a split second,
realized he only exists in your mind?

You are fearful and so am I,
we are as flawed as the world we live in
and it is alright. Those who long for ideals
always find a way to survive disappointments,
or shall I say, reality.

The only ones who have committed suicide
are those who think they could put up with life,
who underestimate the way vanity takes a toll on them,
and at the crack of the sky, find themselves deceived,
so they jump under the flat surface of hope,
get everything in them shot with multiple bullets,
until it is too late to realize the lack of meaning
of their final decision, like many preceding others.

We are not like that, my love, and we love,
and I will make you love me instead of him,
because I am real, and so are you. I want you
to know how hard it is to want another person.
And our shared darkness has just only begun.

Rain chasers,
how I've known them.

They smell rain from a far distance,
watch the clouds in precise anticipation,
catch the first drop and raise to their lips,
and it either turns sour or sweet.

When they know the rain will go foul,
they tell themselves to make another round,
to seek more rain, more rain, and more rain,
until they lose their conscience and become vain.

When they know the rain will be sweet,
they do their best to hold on to it,
knowing it will not stay forever,
but rain chasers despise the laws of nature.

Once I joined their force and began the game,
and I found my first sweet of rain.
I tried to preserve it, like all the chasers,
then it was gone, like sweet rain always was.

Many raindrops have touched my lips ever since that day.
Some sweet, some sour, yet they never stayed.
And somehow it is still quite hard to forget
how I felt after that one left.

This place has no sympathy for your suffering.
You wonder what has taken you so long to get up and leave.
Your feet are cold, your eyes are frozen.
Even the most burning tears cannot find their way down to your heart.
The pain you know you are supposed to feel is already lost somewhere.
You cannot make out what in you remains with this world
or what is left of this world in you.

The day is over with no opened doors.
You have met the night many times before.
But this time
you no longer look forward to the possibility of a warm smile upon your shattered soul.
Thus you slowly gather your emotions
and dump them into the trash barrel next to your old lover's home
where your laughters of a shared past are replaced by those of a foreign present.
She will never know who left the bag there
or care to find out what could be in it.

Life already left you, but you are not yet touched by death.
Being trapped in between
you still detect momements of images behind your irises,
react miserably to changes in temperature,
smell the filthiness of reality under your eyebrows,
and long to meet with a certain something you have given up waiting for.

This is not what it seems to be,
but you do not know what it is.
What can you do to turn away from being nowhere and feeling only nothingness?
How can you hope for a change if nothing really changes?
Time has fixated you to this confined sensory awareness.
You are you or maybe there has been no you.
What about her? How did she get to where you were before leaving it?
Was she truly there, if thisrighthererightnow is no longer around your last breath?

When you leave me, take all you want,
but leave me three things:
my love,
my poetry,
and my best memories of what you used to be.

The sky and the trees
saw the way you looked at me
and the way I looked at you.
They told me I should
let you go.

For love is not forever.
Yet we promised we would never
forget how we were,
and we would always stay
this way, to each other.

You have not changed; neither have I.
Just that in love I get so blind,
I did not see you in the full light,
but something did not feel right.
Only now do I know why.

When you leave me, take all you want,
but leave me love,
rhythm, rhymes, and words,
and all the memories
that would always make me feel for you this way.

When she comes back, I will tell her
not to leave us again, ever.
Life is already short,
why would she try to cut it shorter?

There are music, the arts, nature
film, wine, festivals, and lovers
and places she have not yet known,
and would never if life were over.

So delicate in the tomb of darkness,
she tried to break through but felt so hopeless.
Don't we all? But eventually,
she would find it.

She would find yourself within God,
much more so than God within her.
For I belong to Him as well
we will always be together.

Poetry of the ones who are lonely
are not the same as poetry the ones who are lonely
without someone.

I have always known,
once I let you into this room called my heart,
it will never feel the same when you leave.

And yet I do, I do again and over,
you are my every lover, my any lover,
I have never stopped loving you.

You are the life of my words.
My readers do not know you, but they too,
have known how any love could hurt.

Poetry hurts because poetry is love
and because poetry is you.
Without you I would never have found inside myself a poet.

The world could do with one less lover. One less poet.
But I could not have become me without you and my poetry.
And the meaning of my life is just as simple as that.

there are times
when all i need is a certain
trigger
that will send me away
in a flash
so i do not have to look back
so i do not have to worry
of what might follow

it is
one thirty-seven in a monday afternoon
and i am just waiting
for that trigger
to click

did you see her?

oh, dear god, why
did she pull
the trigger?
where did she get
the gun?

she was sweet
and caring
and everything
but now she is
dead
no one thought she was
the kind
who could take her own
life

did you hear
she left a notebook
full of her life secrets?

****, I wonder
what she wrote
in it

do you think
it would explain
everything?

I wonder
what she was
thinking
that moment
when she was alone,
in her room,
with the ugly gun
staring right into
her heart.

When we saw each other, our eyes
were locked, not into each other
but into the memories we shared.


When we were together in a crowd,
nobody knew about us. Just you and me.
Separately.


I was content with our
secret closeness. Yet to a woman,
Love cannot be unsaid.


My greed of belonging
pushed us apart. In a breath, we tore away
our past.


I should be happy with our
silent goodbye. Each night is just
another night. Without expecting you.


Each morning is
beautiful weather. birds singing. everyone smiling.
everything I did not have.


And how painful, the loneliness
of the footsteps with no more rush
to run towards somebody.


If there’s nothing new about thinking of you
what is it
that makes me think of you, not so much,
but for so long?

some lives are god's intentions gone wrong


executed way beyond kindness:

dreams taken away, dismembered, thoroughly un-remembered
&
smiles dissected to the core, where sadness lies, falling apart in broken nights
&
words scrambled with silenced anger, spoken in tone of non-lovers
&
kisses numbed by a million thoughts dying in the mind, slipping down against low sighs
&
teardrops clogged in eardrums, blowing up the misery of the moment


dark moods today?
no.
this is life, simply.
that is
all.

Come, as the night is not here for long,
and I shall vanish in the morning,
shall forget all with the parting of my eyelids.

I will stay with you for as long as you still remember me.
And in your mind, this all makes perfect sense
no matter how twisted it appears.

Love surpasses all imperfections
including your gullible logic.

We should go
deep into the forest and sea
of unreal colors,
where you and I would be together forever
until the sun comes up.

Why do we keep hurting each other?

How much longer can I live your dream
before losing mine completely?

What more can I do to please you
before forgetting what pleases me?

How farther away can I go
for us to be closer to one another?

When will you be able to listen to me
without letting your voice take over your head?

No matter what I do what I say how much I try where I am
you cannot let go of my life
I cannot let go of the life you force upon me.

You have a way to make me feel
useless
like I always felt, when I wanted
more than once
to escape.
The only place where that is possible
is somewhere else but this Earth.

From time to time
I feel like I am just a kid
being manipulated
by your expectations.
You cannot stop worrying about me.
I cannot stop worrying about you worrying about me.
I am tired of trying to maintain the fake peace around us,
of not being able to tell you how tired I have got
especially now.

How do I gather the courage
to stop thinking too much,
which does not help at all,
to simply let go
of everything?

You can't muster so much as half a laughter
In a room full of familiar strangers
On a Wednesday night
Like most Wednesday nights
When we're off to do our own things
On different corners
Different worlds

I cannot laugh either
Being lost in my abandoned words
Trying to write you a letter
Only to watch the ink smeared
All over my thoughts
Every Wednesday night

The rainy days in this town,
the trembling wind, and how
I live so close to the river,
which turns grey as the water
rises with millions of bubbles ,
remind me
of home.

Home is only a restless sleep away.

Over that vast ocean, on the dark sky,
I seemed to be the only one awake,
so wide awake in my thoughts,
knowing I could, or perhaps not,
find myself again.
Maybe you, too,
have lost yourself in between
two pins on a map.

But I am not on that plane.
I am sitting
at the high coffee table,
hearing the wind howl
around the trees, as my window
is left open.

And I wish I were light enough
to be carried away
not to home
but somewhere, somewhere else,
I do not know,
maybe some ocean sea
maybe some tall mountain
or wherever without the humans
and there, leave me in the heightened cold.

Though I would rather
for that mighty wind
to be strong enough, so my departure
would not take too long.
I hate things that linger;
they never do me any good
Things, like memories,
pain,
longing,
goodbye's.
Thus I whisper,
"I'll go now, and please,
make it quick."

But my wind,
so distracted by the rain,
keeps passing without hearing me.

I'm telling you,
it is not so easy, after all,
to be granted such a simple wish
on a rainy day.

Words
help us define
the way sea turns into sky
the way left becomes right
the way day rises from night.

Words
pin us down to this earth.
Otherwise we would have left.
I would have followed your footsteps
walking toward infinity.

You and I,
we live in words
we dance through words
we make love with words
we are words.

Words
the invention of the lonely
the ultimate intimacy
the bridge between you and me
the child between you and me.

Together,
we create words
we refine words
we play with words
we become words.

And so Our Love
is eternal
behind these words.

night
flows peacefully over me
as i sink further
from the surface of the sea

i cannot
see you
any more

you
you of the beauty that cuts through my heart
you of a million years i have been waiting
not having known i would finally meet you
you of the last melody that brought me to tears
i always thought i could no longer cry
you
moved me

i never imagined
i would love someone like you
love anyone the way i loved you
never thought
i would ever dream of the ocean
and its waves of the darkest moments

i would have lost
my final argument
had the first light of dawn caught my eyes

love
felt so kind
unlike other emotions that i
learned
to feel

you
i am sorry
i never told you
it was my last kiss
i could ever give
i am sorry
i could not have given you all of me
though i devoted to you more of me
than i possibly could have to any soul
alive or dead

you
how could you ever
belong to this world

i missed you so terribly
i almost turned around
to run into your arms
but there was no star out tonight
to guide me back to you
i
lost it

you
will always be
my
       and my only
love