As a best friend,
I'd thought you'd understand.
That I'm not good with feelings,
and a lot of other things.

However you went ahead,
and surprised me instead.
You left me standing there,
made me thing you didn't care.

I am not the type,
to judge this tripe.
I'd like to think that this isn't real,
for I may not know how you feel.

There are signs everywhere,
which I happen to be completely aware.
You found someone new,
and left me feeling extremely blue.

I think I'm no longer,
your best friend forever.
And so in reply,
I'd like to wish you goodbye.

Goodbye, good friend,
I guess this is the end.
Our days are over,
it's time we get wiser.

*(n.d.)

I'm not sure if I
Want to get better
Just yet.
I am happy,
But I miss the sad passion
I used to have every day.
I miss the drowning in my lungs.
I miss the tunnel
I could never escape.
I miss the monsters and demons
That would swim in my mind at night.
But I do not miss
The old me.

A friend can be like the storm that blows everything up, tries your patience, causes changes; but reminds you to be geared up and vigilant.    



A friend can be like the rain that, at the first pour, leads into anxiety; but later on, raindrops keep you calm, thus a friend shows tranquillity upon everyone – serene and happy.



A friend can be like a lightning rod that strikes everyone surprise with annoyance to the ears; but reminds you that a surprise – with all its noises – grants unsolicited bliss which lasts in memory.



A friend can be like a cloud that separates from the others in the vastness of the expanse, and floats alone – the emo, ; but reminds you to be considerate and sympathetic at all times.  



A friend can be like the mist that seems mysterious and unreachable, full of secrets and vagueness; but reminds you to take risk of knowing him profoundly so to appreciate the truth within.



A friend can be like the sun – superior in nature – that can heat up the situation; but gives you warmth in times of coldness, reminds you that darkness would just pass, and that the new morning unfolds soon to absorb your pessimisms.



And a friend is as constant as this – day or night, sunny or rainy, cold or warm, filled or cloudless – the azure that covers everyone beneath any threat, any trial, any worry, any doubt; the azure that holds a promise of watching over you as it did yesterday and is doing today, and the azure that awaits your hopeful tomorrow…



Is that which embraces you under its shelter and defence – yes, the great sky.

This blade I use
As my paint brush,
My arm as my canvas;
Pale and innocent,
Save for scars from another time.

They will be joined,
Together,
In yet another
Beautiful, red painting.

My wrist, the white horizon
In the background.