I thought the stars
were supposed to align
when you met your soulmate.

Why is it that you keep lingering in my head
And I'm not even resisting the sounds that call out your name
Song lyrics always bring me back to the thought of you
They are ocean waves in which I swim
and somehow I always end up on your shore

I hope she doesn't ask,
"What if?"

I keep hiding my poems under my blanket
But soon
they are bound to break loose
And I will have no way to retrieve them
They will meet a glimpse of the sunlight
and I won't be able to sleep

I never expected you to read me when I blinked
or unzip my concealed lips to collect the words I hid
I truly meant it when I said I was fine
because I was alive
I hadn't lost anyone
and I was breathing
as I always have been
So why did it still hurt
when you're not around?

I'm a wordless poetry; inexplicable
and unwritten
A blank space after a finished sonnet,
just waiting to be scribbled.

The day after I got rejected, my dad called me out of my room and I knew what was coming. I wrote him a note. When I finally saw him sitting on the sofa, he told me to sit down. He began with, "Son, what's your plan?" I mumbled bluntly, "I don't know." He scratched the back of his bald head and continued, "You know, you need to find your passion in life. You might have thought that mechanics was your thing, but maybe--" he yammered on and on, about how to live life and what to live for. I handed out the note to him. He paused. "What's this?" "Please read." On the paper, I'd written, "I know, I know. This whole thing might just be a hobby after all. Yes, I have to find something that I'd be happy to work on. But right now, please let myself be delved in the sadness, so once I get out of it, I won't ever look back."