If our love
had a sound,
it would be the sweetest song.
Tell me you hear the music-
the beat of our hearts
and our harmonies
intertwined.

One day
you'll look back
and be glad things did
not work out.
Sometimes,
someone new takes you
by surprise and you wouldn't
have had it any
other way.

If I could turn back
time I would eliminate
the moment we met

4:51 PM
12/6/22

We are all born
with sunflowers in our chests.
It is up to us to nurture them
and let them grow and guide us.
Let love's sunlight and
the rainfall of life
provide you with
all you need to keep
the flower firm.

For too many reasons,
this month feels like
a memory
already.

This love
hurts so good-
I wonder how long
the 'good' part
will last.

Why do you expect
everyone to like you when
you don't like
everyone?

Dear Diary;
to be honest,
I don't mind being a little broken.
If it means that
these pieces of me
can make you whole then
that's alright with me.
I'm used to it
anyway.

Who knew this city of music
would change our lives forever?
Two strangers, one night,
two hearts, one bottle.
Whether it has left us better off-
well, I'm still trying to figure that out
and I'm sure you are too.

Won't you be my muse
at least for the night?
I promise to write you-
immortalize you onto the page.
Let your passion inspire me
until our next night,
and then the next.
Let this cycle of passion
never end.

What a contradiction it is
to feel too much while
feeling nothing at all.

The skies ache for the sun,
the seas thirst for the moon.
The stars kiss their planets,
and I yearn for you.

Isn't it strange
how we forget most
of our dreams yet there
are some dreams that
we carry for the
rest of our lives?

I miss you
so much that
your smile has become the
sun in my sky and your voice-
the wind that gently flows
through each and every
one of my days.

She wore a sunflower dress
and showered him in love and light.
She wanted to warm him
as much as her dress
warmed her.

How lonely is the
writer who sinks into the page
as they pour their mind into their words
only for no other soul to
witness their art?

I would rather
face the sun than
face the shadows and demons
buried deep inside.

You came to this world
desperate for answers but
instead you found me

7:40 PM
8/7/21

It is okay to leave,
but if and when you do,
don't forget to cherish the good
and abandon the bad.

We can see the galaxies
beyond the Milky Way
the way we can see the pain
beyond our smiles.

How can forgetting you
be an option when your love
remains in this heart,
infused onto this soul?

I am still in awe of the colours
you have painted into my life and
the magic you weave into this world.
To be of the same blood is an honor
I will never take for granted and
to be the one of the same soul
is something I will always cherish.
Thank you for giving me the
hope and strength to keep going
in a world that would be so
cold and bleak without you.

I was never good
at saying goodbye.
Sometimes, things are better left unsaid,
but overall, I think goodbyes are
preferable to the silence.
Goodbyes can hurt,
but they can also bring closure.
So, while goodbyes are not my strong suit,
they are often necessary
to avoid a lifetime of
uncertainty.

Some days the
urge to reach out to
you is stronger than others.
That urge turns to an ache
when I remember how
you cut that line
so very long ago.

I do not want you
to chase after me-
all I want is for someone
to care about my return.

In the end,
I had no choice but
to cut the last thread
that sewed us
together.

If I don't bury
myself in you, I'll bury
myself in poems

6:04 PM
20/1/22

Dear diary;
Sometimes,
my emotions don't
line up with my actions-
what's up
with that?
It makes me want to scream
into the void-
why am I like this?
Why am I so broken?

Chasing the night,
again.
Hoping for the one
to help me forget
about the
pain.

Of all that I know,
of all that I have seen,
you are the only thing that shines
and the one that gives me life.
Nothing is as pure as you
and as long as you exist,
there is still hope.

I don’t regret opening the door to you.
you entered this heart and
illuminated every corner.
You were the brightest thing
I have ever let in
even though you
turned off the light.

I try not to let my
shadows consume me
but some nights
are too dark for
my light.

I do not
want this silence
to be the death of us.
I want to find a way back
to your laughter and song.

Being social can be
quite overrated, can't it?
Friday nights should be for
going for strolls somewhere new,
driving around slowly whilst
listening to your favorite tunes,
reading books, writing poetry,
sighing at memories missed
and wondering if it will
ever be that good again.

I will tell myself
that I am over you,
and I believe it most of the time,
but then I wonder what would happen
if I saw you again.
Would I make the same mistake
and fall into your trap again?
Would I be able to ignore
your siren song if you
were to call my name?

What I like most about solitude
is that no one wants to steal it away.
Society, on the other hand,
is in such abundance that
anyone and everyone
can't get enough.

There is a sunflower
in the centre of my heart
and it blossoms
in your love.

Dear diary;
I moved house today
but I'm afraid my demons
followed me to the door.
Tonight,
the twilight seeps through the window,
the highway never sleeps and
the demons make their bed.
I am wide awake
again.

Maybe we
should look at the moon
together
the next time
we miss each other.
Knowing we share the same
starry night
will just have to do
for now.

Despite
the distance,
no one will ever
be closer to my heart
than you.

Do you find yourself
staring into the abyss when
there is no more light
left to be found?
We are only human-
were we ever meant to
know such dread?

Dear Diary;
why do I keep doing this
to myself?
The way I still check up on them
when I am nothing but
a second thought,
if a thought at all.
It’s no wonder I am
still a mess.
Why can’t I just
let it go?
Why can’t I just
be gone?

Sometimes the
need to want hits me
like meteor and I
am knocked off course
into the void of
cold memories and
the emptiness of loss.
Once again,
I am left to find
my way back to
my sun.

Sometimes
I miss the sensations,
the thrill, the palpitations,
the titillations, the adventure.
But nothing more, just that,
or so I tell myself.

I carry you with me
wherever I go
between heart and soul,
in the extraordinary and
the ordinary moments in life.
I keep you in these eyes
that dream of a future
of you and I,
in my lips
that tell the tale of this hardship,
in my hands
that write of our wonderland,
in the mind
that never left you behind.

I'm barely
for everyone.
Hell,
I'm barely
for myself.

I have endured
several deaths and rebirths
in just one lifetime

12:03 AM
8/3/22

What if we are not
the writers of our story?
A writer knows the next page
where as we are prisoners
of the past and present.
Hell, some of us barely live a story,
but merely characters in another's story,
or worse, nothing but a tragedy.

Even if my lips grow parched
I will still refuse to yield
to your rose red lips.
I will refuse their nectar,
your petals and your
siren scent.

I want to lose myself-
not through drugs or fantasy
but through travelling the world.
I want to dive into cultures
and forget where I'm from.