A syllable of desire in a novel of grace
Etched words bereaved of impurity
I long to read your words
Yet my longing is a blade of grass
In your meadow of generosity

I wish and pray for what I've seen
Yet what I've seen is but a fraction of what you offer
A silver ring in Solomon treasury


Strokes of forgiveness on a sun-bleached ledger
Detriment colored by joy
Definition given by the Great Author
Definement and refinement

Anxiety is my bag of soil
With it i shall purchase gold and diamonds
You have sown your love into my heart
I have sold my ink to this paper

Each page of mercy in my soul's journal
Every curl of compassion's calligraphy
Rewriting me
Make my story yours

Can't you let me see my own reflection
I don't wanna be so hateful
Of this vengeful aggravation
Of which I'm not acquainted

Or at least I haven't seen it
Since 1 a.m. a few years back
That's the last time recollection
Serves me without lack

But this feeling of which I was once familiar
beats my cheaply painted willow door
In panic my conscience cowers
I pray the concrete hardens
The fear I feel's a flower
growing gashes in my garden

I've seen more than enough love songs
That say the the same thing in different ways
Too many hearts don't reflect the meaning of their names.
Her name means "promise". All I see is pain.

Rejection
Hate
Distaste
Disdain

Why are sad stories so difficult to tell?
The oceans in my skull have filled enough wells.
I'm thirsty for love, not sirens and liquid salt.
This cistern of sadness will not parch the thoughts that won't depart.

I'm sitting on a sleet covered street bench
And I only wish the city was as dark as the sky,
But oscillations of red and blue clarify
The night and who it belongs to.

Christmas colors aren't these
There's no green,
The same absence as the trees.
Hearts as cold as this arctic breeze.

Poetry is pretending

Tending tepid wounds
Before they can be found
Disavowing secrets
To which we're all bound

Inditing a dimension
In which one can hide
Casting an enchantment
To bewitch our jagged tides

In and out
Wreck and reject
Prying off nails from nameless coffins
Bearing forgotten respect

Speak your mind
Teach it a language
Show that it's a maze
with complexity unbested

Insanity's a sage
Fear, a selfish shepherd
Dreams are lily seeds
Reality, a bristled ****

Tear, singe
Break, bring
Touch, cringe
Climb, cling
Hope, sing

Poetry is pretending
We only show what's written

As your soul is in longful despair
Within a heartbroken cellar
Guided by a dim flame
concocted upon the roof of your candle

You hold fast to this rhythm of distrust
Though it's tempo is ever descending
Just as your steps against the staircase
Where you conceal your contempt

Be less of the more
Be warmed by the same
Be bound to the sincere
Find what you've hid

Each pain was weighed
And deemed a worthy price
Each splinter in his skin
Each tear of blood from his eyes

Redemption and cost
The flow from his side
The rust in his veins
The moment he died

All for you,
Ever in a cellar
Relinquish anxiety
Be found by Forever

I miss everything.

I miss everyone. I miss my mum, my dad, my grandma, their home cooked food, all my four siblings, my bed, my soft toys, my hamster. I miss disturbing my siblings whenever I felt sad because I'm a sadist, miss eating in front of my laptop instead of having to make small talk with strangers over dinner, miss the comfort of my family, miss the luxury of just being able to hug my knees in the snug silence. I miss my home, my real home..

I miss my other home too, where home was once where ever he was. But that home shut me out when the weather was icy cold and sleet was pelting at me, slicing me up from the inside. I tried so hard to pick open the lock, to ram open the door, tried peeking through the windows for that someone to let me in, tried looking for the spare key; But no matter how much I tried, I couldn't get back in. And I think I won't ever be able to feel the fireplace's warmth on my skin while lying on the intricate, rich soft carpets in that particular house again. I miss it so much.

I miss him so much.

this is dumb
and I am dumb
but I can't stop thinking about you
and it's ridiculous because I will
never know the feeling of
your collarbones under my fingertips
or the heat of your cheek close to mine
and it's masochistic to continue letting
these dreams fill my head but
your smile makes it better and
though you'll never let me be yours
I can't convince myself
to stop thinking of you as mine.