funny how i could see
the rolling tides of the sea
which lay behind your misty eyes
that feels like sunsets and summer nights

funny how you could shine
like the roaring sun in July
a joyous kid; i heave a sigh
how can you make a curve out of a line?

funny how i could envision you as a star
one i could see from afar
outstretched, out of my grasp
but i know you are there, as you always are

i
never knew
that disasters —
catastrophes

could be something  like this

it
can be
as good as
a morning sunshine
greeting you with a kiss


a
blooming flower
vibrant
and in bliss

a
kid so happy
while opening a gift

and i never knew that
disasters can be beautiful
and that it could mean--- you

i have longed to meet
one person who loved reading
one who lived more lives; still living
a wight athirst to read and relive each setting
tingling and searching a story for him to walk with his feet

no matter how she tried
to never care--
to take no notice--
but when memories collide
the past feeling resides

in his breath i heard trails of promise,
of comets and stars,
date nights with kisses,
of hurt and scars


in his breath i learned to draw,
a sword of defense,
arrows of offense,
and bled and gained flaw;


in his breath i had known,
the lies to be thrown,
the damage to be made.
and the swing of my blade.

you set me
on fire by those
sweet things you say


the lies you
w     h      i       s       p       e      r
in my ears; you relay


yet no matter
how I tell myself
to not  listen


I find my body
f    a   l    l        i   n
in your deception--- it remains

her eyes are closed
no breath on loose
the casket lowers
a hole with dirt and stones

i ran out of words
don't worry only for a little while
the metaphors seemed to become out of style
the rhymes don't seem to rhyme
like the way it was--

and
i
don't
know
how
to
get
it
back.

i have always
dreamed about
us meeting at
one same point
of tangency;
intersection
so close that
nothing can
pull us apart

she smiled-
she joked-
she accepted new people in her life

yet she still feel alone.

i fancy
candle lit dinners
dresses that glitters
perfumes with flower odors

branded stilettos
unexpected rendezvous
but what fancy more
is you— only you

...
shame,
i've forgotten how
my words used to unfurl
like a folded piece of origami

how
it felt to write
like my blood was filled
with nothing but metaphors and ink

how
my words used to fit
with each other
utterly perfect together



all i see now,
are jumbled letters
looking too foreign and alien
in my eyes; unfamiliarity


what used to be
burning passion and life
in every piece now screams;
u   b   i    q    u    i   t   y



distinctiveness,
g    o    n    e
emotion,
g    o    n     e


the story in a work done,
the feeling that emanated then,
the desire that kept it going,
g     o     n    e

how do you take down palisades
of mistrust and hurt and agony?
ear piercing cries;
of misplaced love and jealousy?

how do you forget mem'ries
of love and life and happiness
snapped out shut;
like a blinking bliss?

how can you, how can i
forget the metaphors i have carved?
out of you and words and tales
that's known by heart?

i had once told you
that to the stars i talk,
filled with boisterous
l   a   u   g   h   t   e    r



something too peculiar
for your ears to hear
yet a daring smile is
what you gave me after





all loquaciousness
in my body
to the astral entities
i permit them see



it was always loud,
an enjoying ruckus
a moment of nothing
but pure glee


but when we met
in an unexpected collision
something in me stirred
and changed me be



i've learnt to talk in a
h    u    s     h
with your name like
a forbidden word to rush



feeling like i don't want
for the comets to hear
and to admire you like
how i admire you, dear

"i am no poet"

that was
b    e      f     o    r      e
i knew
how to play
with words
i do not say

before
i knew
how to mend
the trust that is bent

before
i knew you
and what
heartbreaks really meant

i met a man
not a boy
or so i thought
that i did

he was the combo
of aftershave and cocoa,
with a sharp tongue
and is candid


often he was like winter,
cold and makes my body shiver
a torture and sometimes
makes me feel under the weather



in a rarity he is like summer
an explosion of warmth and radiance
beaming with heat;
turns out to be childish and sweet

i met a man, not a boy
who left in me imprints of mystery,
became the silence in my cacophony
and my own sense of reality

i used to write about  love

yet—
never this painful
never this emotional
never with this deeper meaning

i used to write about love

though—
never as factual
never as concrete
with this i am sure

i used to write about love

but—
not this; never in this state
not this heartfelt
not this time, i know

i used to write about love

now—
with basis
with common knowledge
with experience

i used to write about  love

and—
they used to be words
all hollow; like how my mind used to be
but now it contains with those promises you've given me

I was chaos in delicate lace,
in satin and taffeta; a pretty face
what they see is what I let
a peek behind; they may regret.

I was chaos in delicate lace,
with smiles charming--- tears no trace
lips with chapstick; smudge on side
nothing but a breathless ride.

I was chaos in delicate lace,
disarray with class and taste
I reek of Chanel and all things sweet,
nothing but a foul treat.

I was chaos in delicate lace,
only but a pretty face
a troubled heart and restless mind,
a woman whose love is always blind.

i locked up
my heart in a
c     h      e        s      t  

buried it
d     e       e     p
beneath the earth


of false
    h      o      p         e    
and droken dreams

now I'm
searching for the
k                  e               y

from the
one who holds it
d       e       a        r     l      y

"do  you like me?" she asked.
"no, it's your metaphors that i like." he replied looking away.

rise
in
your
darkest
times

for
everyone
is
entitled
to
be
weak
sometimes

to
burn
i     n
dismay
of one's
s    e     l    f


but
don't
forget
t      o
r i s e
above
t  h e
ashes

flowers--
filled her mind
music--
filled her heart
while it was him---
who penetrated her soul

he was the storm
in my verbal calamities

cold winds gushing in
flashing lights and falling stars
sad hearts driving far

..
she
closed her
eyes and took
a very deep breath,
crossed her fingers then
w  h     i     s    p   e    r     e   d,
"I long to see the   o n l  y
man who made me
shine in his
darkness
..

i dreamt once to be swept away
by love like waves; set astray
feelings loose like golden sand
by every sweep of someone's hand

yet when it came---
it felt like troubled waters
chaotic but full of wonders
then I began to ponder,


love is like tidal waves,
larger than shallow tides
nothing like a little light---
but something that gives a sunburned heart.

these
f    e    e   l    i     n    g   s
never
deserved
any
r   e   c   o    g    n    i     t   i    o   n




no
metaphor
is worthy
to
d    e     s     c     r    i     b    e




this
l      i      t      t     l     e
secret
that
i
h          i            d        e




yet
your
n­ame
r     h     y     m     e     s





with
every word i
t     h     i       n      k



which
makes my
h    e     l     p    l     e     s      s
heart
s        h        r       i        n      k

i remember the embers dying,
the chest that felt the sting,
the wound that kept on aching,

the silence between rivers of thought; tempting to sing.

it hums, it buzzes
as my mind right there fuzzes---
blank--- black
what the hell was that?

everything turned gray
then rainbows, then rain
followed by a strong
h   u    r    r   i    c    a    n    e

i twirled, buzzed
fiddled and dozed
a lot more of nothing
until it became everything


the silence grew loud
i wanted to get out
its fingers--- no claws
crawled, until there was jaws


i screamed, but screaming was painful
it burned me, until i was put out.

i
kept
on
choosing
the
wrong
turns

but
who
knows
?

maybe
this
time
this
is
the
right
one

i had tried my best
to put into rest
the heart that is for you;
still beating


but when your name
fills in my ear
my insides kept on
singing


the trouble with forgetting thee
was not merely the process
of    p   l    a    i    n    l   y
f  o  r  g  e  t  t  i  n  g


it was bottling up some
a s h e n   b u t t e r f l i e s
and stitching a heart that's
m    e    n    d     i    n    g

he's got a beautiful soul
which made her ugly soul beautiful

the stillness of the night iginited thee
the fire beneath thy skin
a phoenix above the frosty sea
an agenda hiding within

.
endless
they wander
in a labyrinth full
of thoughts, unsaid and
unheard
directions
unknown
--- clueless
to  w h e r e
their words
are heading,
who to reach
out by the use
of metaphors
that seem too
lost for e a s y
comprehension