I ran out of things to burn to send you smoke signals. Or maybe I just want to preserve what I still have so I would not destroy my treasures anymore. I do not want to wake up one day, completely alone in an empty space because I keep burning things to make you notice me. Why am I always the one sacrificing things here? Now my lungs are filled with polluted smoke, my heart pierced by longings, head filled with strong debates on whether I should keep you or leave you. Do I send you one last signal? Or is the silence already a message sent?

-m.b

Gone are the days where I think of people I love as art.
The emotions I felt when I looked at their canvas; buried deep inside me.
But the artwork got up and left me for another museum.
And I'm left reminiscing the strokes and lines and colours.
They were never mine to keep.

-m.b

And he said
"I keep having dreams of the same girl. She's always far off in the darkest corner of the room. Her skin is always covered in black paint and her mouth opens to talk about bitter truth and she would laugh at her own dark humour. I often try to coax her to talk to me but sometimes she would look at me with a frown, like she's analysing me. Sometimes she would sing to lamented ballads which causes my chest to hurt. I wonder what she went through. Where I walk, I'm surrounded by light. So when I'm within her axis, her painted skin clears up and she would smile genuinely more. With each dream, we would get closer but here's the thing; whenever we get too close, I wake up."

-m.b

She is a swirling cloud of seduction,
Breathing in whatever that catches her attention.
She is all milky pearl and cherry red wine,
and peachy pink sighs.
Touching you in all the right places,
Marking her beauty on every possible surface.

You'll sigh her name late at night,
Wishing she could be by your side.
Left alone, drunken
on love you could never call your own.
Eternally wanting a piece of her
but no man nor god could ground her ether.

-m.b

Didn't realise just how much I associate some songs with you until I play it out loud and instead of singing and dancing around, I just stand there with an ache in my chest, missing you 10x more and wishing we could talk again.

I thought I was okay but moving on is such a tricky thing. Some days I'm having a good time and I don't think of you at all and some days..some days you're all I think about and I miss you. I miss your eyes and hair and voice when you call out my name and hype me up.

How you'd ask me how I'm doing and I'd tell you in great details even though my day wasn't all that productive but you'd listen anyway cause you genuinely care. How you could say anything and it's like butter sliding down a warm pancake; making me feel good and happy. So happy.

But now I'm just barely going through life, day in and day out; climbing into bed at night hoping I could see you when I fall asleep. Then waking up, reaching for my phone wishing your name would pop up. I miss you. I miss you. Don't you miss me too?

-m.b