You're the kind of beauty that wouldn't strike at first glance. More like with each stare, with each word spoken, with each conversation heard. With your quiet and cool demeanor, you're most likely being overlooked but once they start to notice you, you're hard to forget. How could a vivacious person like you went unnoticed? Now it's hard to shake you out of their heads. You're the type that every poet would weep over. How lovely, how enchanting, how mysterious, how angst-filled; you're broken yet full.

-m.b

She is made of dots. Every dot symbolizes events in her life. From afar, you'd think they are just random sprouts of freckles but behind every spot is a story. Her quietness hides the many dots. I've known from the start that she has a lot more hidden beneath her skin, sprinkled on her bones, pulsing in her veins, throbbing in her brain. Slowly I'm trying to join them together. It could take years and I'll probably die before I finish it but it'll be worth it. She's a brilliant map made of dots. I'm discovering them one by one.

-m.b

You're hot, then you're cold.
"She's like that," or so I've been told.

I like you better
when you're sober.

One day it'll make sense
But for now I'm a mess.

-m.b

Empty shelves;
Empty hearts.

Quiet surroundings;
Quiet souls.

Unfinished writings;
Unfinished thoughts.

-m.b

I wrote your name
In the sand.
So the water will wash
It away.
If the sea can forget you
Then I can too

-m.b

I've always loved
hands.
I'd study it
if I could.

My favourite
would be yours.
When holding,
it wasn't too tight
or too loose.

Nor was it
too big
or too small.

Neither was it
too dry
or too sweaty.
Even though you got
worried
that it would be.

I'm a sucker
for hands.
I like yours better
than anyone else's.

-m.b

You were a curveball
I never saw coming.
I thought I had it all
but fate is unforgiving.

I was into another boy
but you came in calmly.
My God, was I destroyed
when you smiled shyly.

I've always thought
you're pretty
intimidating, smart,
and very witty.

But my feelings changed
when we were put
together. Then I hanged
onto your every word.

I couldn't stop thinking
about last Friday.
When we were hand holding
which made my insides disarray.

Now I get this
tingling sensations
inside me. Please,
I can't be patient.

I turn to mush
when I think of you.
I didn't expect to crush
on you. I hope you feel it too.

-m.b

From the first time I saw her
I thought she was
A work of art;
A mystery

Stayed in my mind after.
As time passes
My heart;
On trajectory.

What is it about her;
That makes me want to rush
And help if she were to break apart,
Recreating a tale of an old lover's history?

-m.b

I slept peacefully
with the rain pouring softly
outside. In between real life and
in my slumber; I thought of your name,
Lightning struck
and thunder shook.
Almost like the world didn't want me to
think of you.

-m.b

You said that you don't like him
But why can't you stop smiling when his name is mentioned?

You said that you don't like him
But why does your heart beat faster;
You catch your breath when he's next to you?

You said that you don't like him
But why do you get so worried whether or not he'll leave you on read when you text him?

You said that you don't like him
But why do you scout for him in the sea of faces?

You said that you don't like him
But why do you go to bed thinking of him and he's the first one in your mind when you wake up?

You said that you don't like him
But why do you keep talking about him and wanting to bring him up everytime you open your mouth?

You said that you don't like him
But why does everything remind you of him?

You said that you don't like him
But why are you writing this very poem with him in your mind the whole time?

-m.b

So many eyes were glued to her
when she entered
the room but she
was only fascinated with
the pair of eyes that never
looked at her.

-m.b

Pink, orange, purple
Blend together nicely and
I feel somewhat calm

-m.b

I'm either too happy or too sad.
With him it's like
sunshines and snowstorms,
hot and cold,
young and old,
heaven and hell,
life and death.
There is no in between,
only one extreme
to the other.
I don't know
if I should
blame him or thank him,
hit him or kiss him,
move on or stay,
forget or remember.
He's all of the poems,
songs and stories
I wrote and read about.
He's everything and nothing.

-m.b

Like preschool children during breaktime, my thoughts chase each other in super speed*. Running around in circles with never-ending energy. Even at times when my mind should be resting, I think a lot and even when I know I should be sleeping, even more ideas pop into my head at the darkest of hours. I spend so much time thinking that I usually space out in real life. But honestly, I prefer spending time with myself and indulge in books. Being with people would end up with me being disappointed. I expect too much and in the end, I'll get hurt. Better to imagine than experiencing it though.

-m.b

Think of a wild forest filled with every
Known flower. Sometimes you'd miss it,
But it's there. Cleverly
Hidden among loud ones. It'll hit
You like a comforting wave,
Making you feel happy,
Serene. So very safe.
Maybe it's sappy
But that's how I think
Of her. She's the softest flower.
Always on the brink
Of heaven. The magnetic power
Of lulling you with love, kindness.
She's always there, basking in her own beauty

-m.b

Turtle is too slow
But it kept its own pace and
Found eternal peace

He counted the stars
to prove his love for her but
she's looking away

To my dear
future lover,
there will be times
where I
will be distant.
If you are hesitant,
please don't feel hurt.
I've always been quiet.
Even if I am too quiet,
do not fret.
I just need time.
I can't promise that I'm fine,
though. I could be bereft.
You just have
to trust me.
I don't need company.
After all, before I met
you, all I had was myself.

-m.b

You're no good for me,
I know, I know.
But I take you in.
Breathe, love.
Your name echoing,
Left my lips.
A taste of you,
Salty.
Just the way I like it.
Salivating,
You in my mouth.
You, you, you.
I can't get enough

-m.b

Meetingyouinmydreams,IfeltsosohappyandyouweretoobutIwonderifwe'ds­taythesameinreallife.Icouln'trememberthelasttimeIfeltsohappyinmys­lumber,reachingmetillIwakeupthatyouwerethereasonwhyIfeltlikeIwasg­oingtocombust

-m.b

Every time the Sun rises
and I open my eyes,
as I feel my soul
slowly pulled from slumber,
entering my body, I feel whole;
I remember.
How last night I escaped
reality to meet you.
I no longer feel trapped
when I get to see you.
How my dreams consists
of braving the guards
when they wanted to shoot. I resist
even though some parts
of me thought I wouldn't
make it. I had to see you,
truly I feel like I couldn't
go through life without you.
The winds were rough
and I nearly drowned in the sea
but I couldn't get enough
cause can't you see?
I'd do anything just to see you,
to be with you
because you're the boy of my dreams
and I'd do anything for you, it seems.

-m.b

Hello, I hope you're doing fine.
Sometimes I am,
sometimes not so much.
It has a latch
on me.
I'm still not completely free
from you.
There's nothing much I can do.
I'm still healing.
Through reading and writing.
Going back and forth
between old memories and scenes morphed
by my mind;
thinking what if you're still mine?
But that's just unnecessary, right?
Why do I hold on to you so tight
when we're the greatest being alone?
I guess I'm so used to calling you my home.
I'm getting better, really.
I just hope you are too, baby.

-m.b

I'll always write about you.
The love,
the heartbreaks;
different words,
same language.
I don't care
whether or not you deserve it.
Because my best writings
are always about you.

-m.b

I realised that my two closest friends are a lot like my past and present self.

Lana reminds me of when I was young. Smiling, kind, naive, a little confused and slowly learning the gift of growing up. Loud to new people.

Ray reminds me of who I am today. Wise, went through a lot, loves Indie music and reading poetry. Quiet to new people.

I see myself in both of them. However, I am still missing one person to be around with.

My future self.

I have yet to discover a friend that I can see my future self in.

I am not in a rush anyway.

-m.b

I live
  and breathe
    unrequited love.

It is not
  my choice
     because
I never ask to long
   for someone
      who doesn't want me.
or feel unattracted to him
  when he said
      he likes me.

It is truly
a vicious circle
   of unrequited
      love.

-m.b

I used to want someone to hold hands with,
Someone to be with,
Someone to hold
when it's cold,
Someone I can tell my darkest secrets to
And I could keep their secrets too.

But now I've grown afraid.
Is it really as amazing as what they said?
What about the pouring tears, the heartbreaks?
The time it takes
to move on when it doesn't work out?
The arguments and stinging insults you shout?

Perhaps it's better
for me to save myself. Here's a letter
that I would read many times
before I'd even think of committing crimes;
of falling for someone.
I'd rather be with no one.

-m.b

Perhaps the reason why they call poems as "pieces" is because you find a piece of your heart in between the lines.
If you have suffered from a broken heart, write or read poetry.
Maybe you can fix the broken pieces, place them together and be whole again.
Or it can break and break, with every word.
Or maybe your heart was never whole to begin with

-m.b

Everyone experiences pain
in a different way, even rhetoric.
To me, physical pain
is nothing compared to words and music.

You wouldn't understand
how much I've fallen for words that said everything
I wanted to hear but to them it meant nothing.

You don't know the feeling of singing songs for years
that your soul have cried out for,
only to have it fall on deaf ears.

No, I couldn't bear it.
This pain haunts me everyday
in every little detail.

How I catch Uncle Keith pray
to different gods so Aunt Martha
would look at him in the same awestruck way.

How the Moon would shine bright
only because it's a mirror, reflecting the Sun's light.

How the ice cream melts and melts on the ground
but you'd either wipe it away or let it dry on its own.

How the words I find in poems I read
carry the same feeling of angst I bring to bed.

How my classmate came in late nonchalantly
but missed the vital parts of today's lesson, never really
able to make up for it.

They are all different scenarios
but they are all the same.

It's missing out on many things and
taking people for granted.
And there's a feeling of hurt.

No matter where you go, who you find,
what you do, there's always going to be pain.

-m.b

What I like about poetry
is all the depth of emotions it can carry.
How with every little poem I find,
the ghost of a friend would linger in my mind.
I would read in the present
but a memory from the past would bring something unpleasant.
Funny how words could affect me
like a thrashing tree,
caught in the whirlwind.
Violently shaking but my roots had me pinned.
But they're on the inside;
pain, joy, sadness, anger that I hide.
Then I find the guardian angels,
familiar in the pieces. These are the miracles
of how powerful poetry
can be. Touching emotions on a higher degree.

-m.b

I'm just very tired
I really thought
It'll be over by now
But how
Can it when I'm
Often confused time
After time? I don't know.
I don't want it anymore.
I just want to feel right
Starting tonight

-m.b

We were meant to destroy*
I mean, that's how we met right? I was walking alone one night, decided to rip up a jacket I picked up from the subway. I heard a crash and you were there; breaking apart a wooden bench by the street. Our eyes met and we exchanged a smile.
That's how we went.
We destroyed walls with our rude psychedelic murals, set the trash cans on fire, broke our limbs when we went rock climbing in summer '09, wrecked every room we went in at 3am on Thursday nights.
It shouldn't be a surprise to how we are now.
All our dates before, we'd destroy at least one thing.
Now we're destroying each other.

-m.b

I'm in my room but I'm wishing that I could be with you right this instant so badly. In your car, with that sharp tangy air freshener hanging over the A/C, listening to your strange music that I usually don't listen to unless you introduce them to me, snuggling close for warmth as the sky keeps raining and droplets would form on the glass windows, racing down after each other.

Pretty boys aren't worth crying over, I know. But why are my eyes clouded with tears and my heart is squeezing painfully in my chest? "You aren't mine, you aren't mine, you aren't mine. You never were and you never will be. You belong with someone else. And you're quite happy, too." My mind rang so I quickly press exit and lock my phone. It isn't worth it.

-m.b

He was smiling too widely and he was jittery. I mistook that for good news. But then he started to talk and with every minute passing by, my excited smile started to falter. It's like with each word uttered, our throats are being filled with glue and it just makes us feel sick. Sitting stiffly upon cushions that we've called our home. Silence hung heavily in the air when he's done talking.
"It's going to be okay. Something good will come out of this. I promise."

-m.b

I am known to be a flirt
to everyone I'm close with
but I was once hurt
by someone; a thief.

I'll always say "I love you"
to people. It isn't a crime.
Because I really mean it, it's true.
Except for this one time.

I'll hug and I'll grab your hand,
tease and slide in pick up lines.
I hope you'll understand
that I'm not the type to stay on people's minds.

-m.b

In Math class we were studying linear equations. You take one of the two equations and make a third one. Take the numbers and symbols apart, see what's inside, then you find your solution by substituting one of them into the equations.

But I had other things in my mind. You're a bigger question to solve. Can I take us apart, rearrange ourselves and substitute for each other? Can we find a third equation to fit in between us to find a solution? Or would there even be an answer for us?

-m.b

My deepest feelings and thoughts;
I put into words.
Intricately woven
into lines upon lines,
stanzas upon stanzas.

If I were to write poetry
for the rest of my life;
Then if I am old and gray,
everything will be stripped away.
Until I am stark naked, completely bare.

You could see everything
inside me, like a showcase.
All of my bones and nerves, singing,
tied together by words like a maze.

And if I were to say
what I'm made of,
I'm made of science,
history and poetry.

-m.b

You told me to stay away
But I was blinded by love, I stayed.
I should've left on the first day;
Oh my, it's too late.

Now I'm caught,
Struggling against your web.
Like a fly being captured,
Awaiting my death.

How do I always get ****** in?
Why do I keep giving in?

-m.b

Past midnight are made for
People who can't sleep

The girl in room 120
Is nursing a broken heart

The boy in room 237
Is wide awake, thinking of his ex who slipped through his fingers

The girl in the shower in room 405
Is scrubbing her hands, trying to calm her nerves

The old man in the lobby
Is listening to jazz music, having a flashback of his golden days

They are all restless,
Thinking of ways to get a good shut eye

But the happy and contented ones
Are fast asleep, dreaming of tomorrow

Past midnight are made for us
The ones struggling to control the chatters in our minds

-m.b

I would blame it on bad timing,
A wrong decision
Or something.
A conjured future with precision,
A huge almost. How disappointing.

But the sad thing is,
It wasn't even an "almost"

It was something I wanted,
But it wasn't in your mind.
It's heavily highlighted;
Our stars were never aligned.

It has been over 200 days
Nearly one year of hurting
What a waste
Repeatedly swaying

It's a great lesson
I am never meant to be rushed

Day 299
And I am still healing
I broke down
But I'll keep trying.

-m.b

If you're wondering how it feels like to date me, I would describe it.

On a rainy day at home, I would walk around with just a t-shirt and in my short shorts. Even though I'm cold, I would brave through it.

On a hot day outside, I would wear my sweaters and denim jackets. I wouldn't even roll my sleeves.

If we're together, I would hold on to your hand a lot. Pulling it to my lips to kiss it softly, or I'd rub your fingers, tracing out shapes on the back of your hand or making swirls on your palm with my finger.

Occasionally I would write you letters. Telling how much I adore you, thanking you for staying with me and helping me when I'm a mess. I would even write poems and songs based on you.

On good days I would send you pictures of me, with either one of these three types of captions. 1) "Oh look I feel cute today" 2) "Is this okay? I'm not sure if this suits me," or 3) I say nothing at all, just waiting for you to shower me with compliments. I'm a sucker for memes. Sometimes just one or two react pictures would make my day.

I love road trips with my favourite people. Especially if they get my humour and listen to the same music genre as I do. I adore being close to the beach, watching sunsets and sitting beneath the night skies.

I like long intellectual conversations. Tell me about constellations and Greek myths. I enjoy listening to legends and the origin of things. The history, art, culture and languages of other parts of the world. Tell me what you think of our society and how we could improve it.

Maybe it's narcissistic but occasionally I would ask you questions about myself. What is it about me that made you want to be mine? What was your first impression of me? Is it different than how you see me now? Am I someone that you've been wanting and waiting for your whole life? Or am I a creature that you never thought would exist?

I love listening to people's stories as well so tell me about yourself. What was it like growing up in your home? Are our parents similar in many ways? What did you want to be when you were five years old? What was your favourite food when you were in high school? What's your biggest fear?

Most of the time I appreciate silence. We don't need to talk all the time, especially in the morning. I get really quiet in the mornings because I usually get too anxious.

I get talkative between 11am and 5pm. I would crack jokes a lot and sing or rap to Twenty One Pilots. I'd even make random songs out of the blue.

After midnight I would pour my heart out completely, especially in text messages as I couldn't form the correct sentences verbally, my mind works too quickly. That's where my deepest fears and worries would explode and I'd spam you with my thoughts. I hope you're okay with that.

-m.b

He could say "I love you" just one time.
Just one time.
That one time could have more depth of emotions than all those 1002 times you breathed to him.
And it isn't fair.
It isn't fair that he loves you a lot;
he'd move mountains and knock out constellations
just for you.
Yet you wouldn't even jump over a puddle for him.
He could look at you like you're giving him life
and his breathing body depends on it
but everyone knows you're the reason
his once full, purely soul
is now chipped and torn.
Drenched
in toxicity
that you've
injected
into his veins.

-m.b

I noticed that people who says "I hope you're okay"
or "I hope you're doing fine"
to other people are the ones who've had it rough.
That they know how it feels like to not be okay.
That they went through somewhere dark.
That they don't want other people to go through what they did.
That they want people to be happy and not anything less than okay.
And that they really hope other people are fine.
Nonetheless, it's a lovely reminder, though.
Even though they weren't okay once, they're better now.
Life goes on and it does get better.
So I just want to say;
"I hope you're okay"

-m.b

She writes you letters,
poems, prose, thoughts of you.
Silent chatters
from her mind. She goes by Blue,
the same as one of her favourite female characters.

She's mostly quiet but talkative
with her favourite people.
Sometimes they say she's provocative
but it's only for humour to ripple.
It is what she wants to achieve.

She has her own list
of aesthetics. Leaves, solar system,
stars, sweaters, cold mist,
laurel, arrows, silver, crystal gem,
jawline, collarbones, veins on wrist.

She gets lost in her own world but senses
your presence. She loves hand holding
and hugs but if you touch her, she tenses
up. Once she's comfortable, she's very loving.
Sticks to you like a magnet, for instance.

She dreams of being loved, adorned
by someone special. However,
after numerous rejections, her heart was torn.
She then pulled herself together.
Loving herself, she moved on.

She loves helping people out.
Always being nice, giving encouragement.
Won't let people feel a shadow of doubt
when she showers them in compliments.
They call her a positive broccoli, she sprouts.

-m.b

We met that night.
You kept wringing your wrists.
When we were about to part,
our cheeks met for a kiss.
I asked, "Will you be alright?"
You said, "Yeah, I'll be okay. Thankies"
And smiled sadly, lips tight.

I should've stayed then
so you wouldn't have gone away;
leaving us grief-stricken, hearts broken.
Is this what you meant as "I'll be okay?"
I keep looking at my right hand
where we made matching tattoos last May.

If I could go back in time,
could I have done something different?
Instead of doing this stupid rhyme,
wishing your life never ended.

-m.b

What they say about you;
take it into consideration.
Whether it's bad or good;
pay attention.
Grow.

What you think about you;
it isn't as bad, really.
Your good side is true.
In yourself, believe.
Heal.

Before you chastise yourself,
keep silent.
Leave it on the shelf,
unattended for a month;
wait.

What you like about yourself,
turn up the volume;
change the way you behave.
Let it be your perfume.
Embrace.

Soil, water, sunshine,
fertilizer to keep you strong.
It's okay to have a little rain.
Your body is home, you belong.
Bloom.

-m.b