for more than 14 years I've
been in an unrequited love
with my dream

and i still haven't got it

maybe im not as useless
as I think I am

I mean, why else
would you use me, right?

I have yet to call myself
my own again

a figure skinny-dipping in
the dark, ready to drown herself with
every chance she gets then pushing
herself out of the water to taste air,
thoughts too toxic for her own good
yet she never hesitates to consume
more and more
she twists herself in whirlwind romances,
covered in glitter, sunshine smiles and songs
she'll laugh, she'll cry, then tomorrow night
she'll say goodbye, as if she's always ready,
always attempting, always striving to go,
but then she'll shiver, she'll shrivel,
haunted by loneliness, fearing isolation,
so she'll stay, knees numb and frozen.
Up until she yet again craves
another midnight swim.

just as you don't
have to remind the sun to shine
and the flowers to bloom,
when you ask me to love you,
it already goes without saying


*—L.m.

he said, "I'll support you with
whatever makes you happy."

a pause.

"I'm happy with you--will you
support me on this?" i replied.

maybe the reason why i do things so recklessly within the mere presence of yours is because i can only hear the loud thumping and the loud crashing of my fickle heart and the hazy infatuation continues to seep through the atmosphere blurring my vision.

  i used to promise myself to never lose my cool around guys because they shouldn't have that power over me but theres just something about you, you, you—maybe it was your carefree disposition that makes me crave freedom too or was it because your sad moments never seems to stop and i feel compelled to bring you out of that shallow hell you build around yourself—you are flooding my thoughts and tangling up my words into bundles of anxious thread and my lips tremble to the beat of my shaking fingers

  i once told you to never say goodbye because it kills a part of me. i wish i also mentioned that you simply being here also takes my breath away

  *—L.m.

even the musky scent of cigarette
smoke and the lingering taste of
alcohol still can’t elude me to think
that everything is going to be alright

funny how your smile can

you don't know me, that's as clear as the
day, just like i'm not exactly sure who
you are just yet. i don't hold a time box
of the past i never want to relive, of a
present still muddled w uncertainties
and countless levels of anxieties and of
a future i'm not even sure you are a
part of. i may be deluding myself with
ideas of you, because everyone around
me told me you're the one i need in
order to be complete and i honestly can't
deny that i like what i'm hearing. i'm
still clueless how this works--do i simply
get one look straight from your eyes and
all my doubts will start to vanish, do i
reach for your hand because i suddenly
felt like that's all i'll ever need, do i give
in to the hazy infatuation and plunge
right in, do i say hello or would i lose my
tongue? i'm not sure, nor will i ever be.

but maybe if it's you,
maybe it's because of you,
i'm prepared to meet halfway.

You learned how I have a taken a liking to poems
and writing and anything that drips with art and so you
asked me to write you one.
I knew you didn’t like those poems that I’ve showed
you nor did you understand my passion for writing and
my love for fiction

So I asked you why

You waved it off and told me to just do it; as if words
were easy to tame, as if my mind flows as quickly as
the ink of my pen, as if it just happens in the moment
I wanted them to

I told you that it takes time and you can’t force words
out and ***** them all over the page and you got mad
and swore I’m taking this all too seriously

Maybe I did,
maybe you just didn't understand

You were convinced that you were some masterpiece,
and you wanted me to write about you--not because you
love me or you appreciated my works and my words and
my fingers, but you love yourself too much
But you can’t write
So u forced me.

Well, here it is, *******.

admittedly,
i have wandering eyes
and a mouth that had kissed
too many hands goodbye
and for a while
i've gotten used to dry spells
and disenchanting love affairs that
has left me coughing black and blue dust

yet my loneliness craves the warmth
my cold bones can't provide
but i run away with heightened wariness
at any chance to defrost

aren't we all
in motion sickness
sandwiched between
unforgiving bad decisions
(though good luck charms
are laced around our necks),
a broken compass and
unnecessary luggage
in this journey through
the unaligned paths of stars
where all we seem to do
is heave broken glass
and exhale "i'm okay."

we'll die maneuvering
our way in this crooked,
manic life
and somehow live
to tell the tale
that it's been magical

i believe despite the dirt
in our hands,
we are not here for nothing

i've tore through my cocoon with
urgency to change because i didn't like dangling under pressure and have expectations
poking, ripping, stabbing
me open
so it wasn't long
before the wings on my back
had spread and learned how to fly

but no one had warned me
that by taking flight, now i have
to worry about treacherous winds
and betraying storm clouds, too

i keep acknowledging
what shouldn't be
and i blame it
on all the signs i've misread

my life isn't tragic,
my mind is.

I’ve learned how it’s like without you
and every step has been excruciating
some days are easy, quiet, tolerable
because distractions are present amidst
the unforgiving hustle and bustle of life
and I’d welcome anything thrown at me to
keep you off my mind and help myself heal
—but most days are hard
They require patience, tenderness, and
strength that I can’t provide myself with
you had always kept my head out of the waters
and now I’m back to struggling how to breathe
and by then it’s just harder to pretend that
I’m not constantly dreading a future
that is not meant for us to conquer together

But I still hope (and pray and beg)
that our paths will cross again
when the time is finally right
and we are versions of ourselves
that can love each other better
and I beg, I beg, I beg
that we will survive it then

—L.m.

I’ve been busy, my mind preoccupied with delusion
and strange entitlement that I deserve only blessings
whilst achieving nothing in a life sweetened in misery
I’ll continue to close my eyes in bated breath, please
shoot me everywhere except the apple on my head
and maybe once my ashes blends with the wind
I’ll have my most anticipated rude awakening

—L.m.

it's unsettling to realize
that with the strength of continuing to exist
meant distracting myself
whenever it feels too confined
and that's not to say that I've lived a life devoid of joy
but the fear of making the same mistakes again
had rendered me incapable of letting anyone in
and I have no more sentiments to spare

it feels lonely, but safe
and it's fully heartbreaking to think
that I really tried to live this time,
I really tried and I know it showed
but everything seems forged