And so we reach that time again-
the eve of an election.
The world holds its breath
for better or worse
as we turn another
page in the books
of history.

How do you know if
you are missing someone or
simply the feelings they made you feel?
Is there any way to know for sure?
The memories will last forever
but the nostalgia will come and go
like tides on a lonely shore.
So is it you or the feelings we shared
that I find washed up from sea?
My own little treasure chests
I will cherish forever.

I hate the way I woke up,
hungover,
and all alone, again.
I hate the loneliness and
I understand why I am
every time I see my
reflection in the toilet water
throwing up last night's bottle of gin.
I hate the way I waste the day
and do it all over again that night.
I hate this cycle that I
cannot break.

A photograph of you
brings back a wave of nostalgia
and I am drowning
in memories
once again.

I know
it may seem
like things aren't
ever going to be alright
but in the end,
time will prove
you wrong-
it always
does.

Dear diary;
who am I?
Whoever I am,
I frighten me.

you can let people
leave when you know the ones who
care will always stay.

12:36 PM
6/7/20

Let my pour my soul
onto the page until
it overflows
and drowns me
in passion and pain.

When I walk through this city,
I see so many wonderful restaurants,
but the only one I want
is located halfway across the world
somewhere down your street.

The demons
always find a way
of rebuilding the bridges
I set ablaze so very
long ago.

I found you
in the dead of night-
a lost and lonely wanderer.
So I took you in,
cleaned up this house and
made space for you to stay.
You stayed for a while and
we felt lonely no more.
This house became our house,
and when it was your time to leave,
this place was never the same
no matter how many times I
tried to fill your absence.

If it were not for dreams,
how else would we escape?
There would be nothing to look forward to
each time we close our eyes
and wonder what world awaits us.
At the end of the day,
whether we feel sad,
happy, or anything in between,
we find solace in closing our eyes
as we drift into the dream world.
Sometimes we wake up with feelings
we did not know we had.
Sometimes it is good to escape
at least just for a while.

Dear Diary;
Would the world
be any different if I
stopped putting pen to paper?
Would life
by any different if I
stopped pursuing my passion?
I've considered it,
but what would I be
without my voice?
I feel too much to sit in silence,
to bottle it up without an outlet
to keep me sane.
The truth is that I am incapable
of separating myself from these words-
an extension of myself on page
and I wouldn't have it
any other way.

Healing begins
with a choice.
A difficult one, yes,
but commit to that choice
and you will be
on your way.

Where do we go from here?
How do we move,
when there is no more ground
beneath us?
How do we fly
without our wings?
I don't know where
we are going
anymore.

All this time has passed
and I still think of you.
All this time has passed
and I hope you do too.

If you want to last,
stop telling me one thing but
doing another

10:05 PM
10/8/20

If I had to choose,
I would say I miss
your accent the most.
Your foreign words
took me to a foreign place,
a place away from this life,
a place I called my home.

I was never a singer,
but when my heart was full
I could not help but
write you a song that
you will never
get to hear.

Why do we try so
hard for those who simply just
do not care at all?

11:55 PM
7/10/21

To kiss your lips
again
is a broken heart
worth repeating.

Dear diary;
I thought about dying today...
or so I thought I did.
I think about death a lot lately
and I'm not too sure I
know the difference.

The only thing that
I am struggling to do is
to understand you

8:47 PM
28/6/25

Even in darkness,
my shadow will torment me-
I can't outrun it

8:45 PM
13/5/22

I am not
for everyone.
I am not
for this life.
I am not even for myself
on most days.

I wrap my heart in
shadow, silence and stone.
Now with so many walls,
I fear parts of me will
never see the
light again.

Dear diary;
perhaps it was hope,
one ****** up illusion,
that convinced me
that maybe,
just maybe,
I ever had a chance
with you.

Her heart was
where I found my home.
Her thoughts and words
open up doors I could never find
and her eyes painted the walls
in beauty only rivaled by her own.
This is the house I wish
to spend my days.

Like a sunflower,
you pour so much
love and light into something
only for the forces of nature
to wither it away.
The odds are always
stacked against
life.

We all tend to love in extremes,
to let our heart lead
rather than our head.
It is no wonder that balance
has never come natural
to humans-
never has.
We are all still trying
to figure out the perfect
balance between attachment
and detachment.

Memories are traps-
look to the future and start
all over again

2:31 AM
20/9/20

Be sure to
contain those
seas and storms within you
or else those leaks and lightning
will leave you drowning.

We're passing strangers-
eyes meet eyes, lips meet lips-
strangers once again

11:39 AM
7/8/21

The most beautiful
people are those who don't know
that they're beautiful

10:25 AM
12/2/22

I
don't care
anymore.
I feel myself hollowing out
as the world grows bleaker
by the day.
These people
are termites and I
just don't care
anymore.

To think of you
smiling makes me ecstatic,
as if I could feel the joy
radiating from every photograph,
as if I was lucky enough
to see you smile
in the flesh.

And now we say goodbye
to what we thought would never end.
I can't believe it,
it's really over
and what do we have to show for it?
ashes and anguish.
All we can do now is
rise up like a phoenix
and learn from
our mistakes.

I felt like I was in love
with a wasteland because it
once birthed a bed of flowers.
I was in love with memories
that had long since passed-
my mind became my enemy.
Little did I know that those flowers
were poisonous little things.

Some days
I miss the sun.
Nevertheless,
I still wake up and
see your smile-
that's all the warmth I need
to start the day.
These mornings could not
get any better.

This is not the life
I had in mind and I am
sick of pretending

10:53 PM
22/7/20

Sometimes
we fall in love
with those who simply
show a kindness that few can reciprocate.
They most likely won't think
twice about you yet
here we are,
left so helplessly
in love.

Sometimes I get the feeling
that my demons love me more
than my angels.
Maybe the fallen are the ones
who know how to lift you up
and maybe the empty ones
are the ones to make you feel whole.

Why does the moon
always shine so bright
when you know the hangover
is going to be glorious
the next morning?

I lay my head
into your chest
and your heart skips a beat.
I always hum along,
for it is my favorite
song.

Hollow are the
promises we make
after midnight.

Either consumed
by sun or tsunami,
never by flame or rain.
Supernovae or tidal waves.
never a dull moment-
two extremes will
always war
inside me.

For living,
there is reality,
and for loving,
there is heaven:
the place where
I found you.

Your assumptions of
other people are mostly
wrong most of the time

4:30 PM
24/3/22

I don't believe
a broken heart truly mends-
some pieces are lost
forever.

Perhaps I am
just a window
for everyone to see through,
to lift me up for their own vanity
only to put me down when
the world grows dark.