all that i am is nothing
and all that nothing is becomes me.
all that nothing turns to in the cold
all the lonesome walks at the beach
all the sandy footprints of mine that get left behind
all the thoughts in my head that stay in the dark corners of comfort
my lips glued closed as everything around me drifts and im left watching from afar
intrusive thoughts become late nights
only for me to hide away under the blankets
only for the hourglass to be at its time
even while everything feels like nothing
atleast it’s still something

my eyes drift across the tv screen.
walks during late afternoons and the sun is setting at the perfect time
their hands glued to their sides
awkward glances and how their fingertips rise and graze
my eyes drift across the tv screen.
into blurs of doors that shut closed
and the chase
and the numerous apologies and tear stains left on his hoodie as the comforting feeling of company returns once again
oh how i miss that feeling
it feels like a stranger to me now
a stranger that comes and goes
comes for small visits to bring me cherry pie and flaunt her ways
only to leave me craving more of this wretched company
my eyes drift across the tv screen.
flower bouquets on muddy doorsteps in the rain
their touch and the longing
how the longing feels like a close but distant friend
that appears and disappears and reappears as the clock continues to keep ticking into infinity
and everything is perfect
and everything seems like it’s meant to be
the cherry pie sticks to my throat
this feeling of longing and temporary love
not the things that lead up to real love all from meeting at a gas station on a tuesday
but this love that i watch and admire
the love i hold in my frail hands so dearly
growing up admiring her ways and being taught that this is that
this love that’s always there to make me feel nauseous but jealous at the same time
i crave for this temporary love.
but it will never come
atleast not how i expect it will and how it is through a screen
***** it.
im still so young and this shouldn’t be such a sudden dream for me.
the longing picks at my insides and tosses me around like an empty can on the sidewalk
this temporary love is all that i see right now
but soon it will grow to become more than that
atleast i hope so.

scribble scrabble
scribble scrabble
i scratch at the paint and the paper and the ink
the veins shoot and soar
and the papers come alive
"draw nicely" they say
how can i draw nicely when every straight line that comes
turns into scribbles of mess
scribbles of frustration
scribbles of me

you’d always call my name with a smile
and your hand would be reaching for mine
is this real?
the butterflies turn into chirping birds
and my heart beats fast
i reach for you
and in that moment we’re one

the phone always rang at night
we’d stay up to talk about our days
you’d say my dress was pretty and for some reason i always felt like this moment would stay
whenever i looked at you my world spun around
and somehow for the first time
it finally felt like i was found

adolescent love
we’d play on the swings all day
and our shoes would be full of wood chips
when it always felt like may
and like flowers hugged my feet
keeping me in this moment
it was never for something more
i’d just have always liked you here
when it felt like we could both soar
to the clouds and when no one was around

ive always liked that feeling
i have to admit i sometimes miss it
but i must leave this ecstasy
this adolescent love has left me reeling
i want to take to the clouds
for something more
away from this crowd
i always yearn for you, adolescent love
but it’s just me now
i hope i find something more than you

something more
something new.

holding onto a balloon
a single piece of string that my trust and hope holds onto
my grip loosening by the minute
but still hoping that i'd be at ease when this waiting finally ends
to fly higher than these clouds
even when the inevitable is going to strike
and hope and i will come rushing down to earth
still holding on for dear life
even when hope is a liar and it’s only a matter of time
but what if i don’t want to let go
even when the damage is done

we’d paint the walls an olive green
with a hint of tuscany
i sometimes wonder what it’s like
when you’ve spilled enough white wine on your lap
and you still beg to be fed grapes from another
even if its a trap
blindness leads us to the darkest of cages

my fingers graze the roses and their bunches
just a slight pinch won't hurt
the sprinkles of blood on my freshly washed shirt

a slight pinch of salt turning into a snowy mountain
this salt stuck to my tongue
burning the wounds
just a slight pinch

hands shaking at the sight of an old foe
the white wine stinging my throat

i sometimes wonder what if instead of the walls
we painted the sky
the indigo and shady clouds
empty bathrooms with the dim stalls

what if you were still here
instead of noisy complaints from the neighbors
and how we didn’t invite them to the dinner from before
the harsh and sudden shuts of the kitchen drawer

but all that would lead to is cracked paint
the clouds would crack
and the moon a dark abyss
our walls would turn to dust when you’d eventually come back

all there would be is cracked paint
my cracked hands and the chipped burgundy nails

i sometimes wonder if one day
when i look out of these windows
everything won’t be eventually turned into cracked paint
and instead
when i head out the doors
away from these olive green walls and dark wooden floors

it would be the smell of fresh paint
when i paint the new doors and walls of a new house a light blue
and i wouldn’t need you
when i wouldn’t need anyone
just me and the flowers basking in the sun

i wonder if one day
we could sit at the window
and watch the rain hit the glass yet so gracefully
i wonder if one day
it'll not just be me
you'll be here too
i hope to meet you soon