What do I
Do now?
I said
There was nothing
To forgive, but
Everyday, I get killed
With the thought
Of you
Holding my hand
Watching the starried sky
With no care in the world,
And with all these feelings
Bursting in our chests.

I am just another notch to her
Another victim of the *****
I was just a tool to make her purr
I knew better but I still got mixed in

I couldn't resist pathetically
Her witty personality and passion
She just does every thing so sensual and elegantly
Even the way she stabbed me like an assassin

In the blink of an eye she left me for dead
Just walked away like a radiant rebel
Looking for more hearts to break and blood shed
It was worth it though to end up in hysterical and in hell

A young heart,
like a fresh wound,
hurts more, when exposed
to the world of sour tongues,
bitter eyes and bland brains

A young heart, hurts
like a healing wound
that stretches to
the demands of life

There's no home,
when you are down
There's no home,
even when you are up

-Kaya

Sylvie, I am alone here
doing nothing, except
thinking about you,
in a meditative trance.

It's a beautiful feeling Sylvie
strange, I don't miss you,even!
I imagine you as an awakening  flower
of changing colors and petals
You are in a whirl of realization.

Then a lone tree you are,
near a vast,waveless  lake
what an intriguing  koan,
to churn my inner sea.

You're nowa drifting white cloud
all through the kaleidoscopic shifts
I forget to think,what would I be
in relation with your whims,spectacular


Beyond apparitions, I search for  meaning
that  eludes, as it is fathomless

I hear the song of the lonely star, so near
and realize,"I am the light of the burning star"

Sylvie, I can't remember
neither you nor me exactly
or the distant star that sings
a song in the tunes of light years


You were from the forest, Sylvie
I used to be the mountain wind
that once caressed the forest trees.
Sylvie, we are one; the imagination
of the waves of light, beyond time.

I'll remember you in new ways
like the creatures of the night
remember daylight
the way old oak branches
reach for the sky
growing a home within themselves
growing from nothing at all
in pending loneliness
many moons ago
a nocturnal acquaintance
formed his own memory
a mere shadow in disguise
the ghost of
tomorrow's sun

my brother, my home
we were born from the same sunken star
a pair of old weary souls

still far apart, falling apart
I miss your nearness to me
but we are a bit closer among the universe

if you ever feel like
your world is uninhabitable
you can join mine

because I cannot remember if you're
a dream or a memory
I swear we've touched before

although I had always been wishing
you weren't a fragment of
my own imagination

"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be.*" - Wuthering Heights.

beauty, is in love's eyes,
i once read that if he still makes your heart
anchor itself to your abdomen,
after three months, it's love.

well, my metaphors are wasted on you,
my words are a fancy way of
expressing myself and they contain
too much of you.

you've got a temper,
enough to rumble under these streets,
and collapse what i've been building.

i get sick of building blocks,
love is child's play, and i just want
us to be adults.

i promised to love you, and i do in
my own odd ways,
you broke my heart, i broke yours.
i still want you to know,
a mosaic wouldn't be so beautiful,
without all the cracks.