I find myself lost in the cosmos
from time to time.
Sometimes, I feel too far gone
to ever return to Earth
but that's okay,
the galaxies caress me in a
strange but splendid
silence.

The world's lost flowers
follow your aura
to find their way
back home.

It's still in here,
somewhere,
I'm sure of it.
The heart I want to give you
is somewhere at the
bottom of the ocean,
or perhaps the
edge of the galaxy.
I know that I can find it,
again,
I just need time.

When are you coming home?
I am still in the same place you abandoned me.
It is not distance that separates us,
but you who drives the rift.
How do you not see it?
The longer we isolate,
the more we suffer.
Are you happy like this?
Lost in separation?
It is not only I that you have lost,
but this family,
this love,
yourself...

I now know that
I cannot live without love,
but love alone is not enough
to vanquish these demons.
They are not so easily repelled by love alone,
in fact they are not satisfied
by anything at all.
They feed on the darkness
and in this emptiness,
they make their home.

Feelings on repeat
why does everyone
always retreat
when all's said and done?
Every heartbeat
I have felt
so bittersweet
they make me melt
only to find
that I'm alone again.
We're so blind
to love and its friends.

I used to ask myself:
is it better to have loved and lost
than to have never loved at all?
But lately, I wonder how much
one has to love before they start
to loathe every inch of skin
that no one else seems
to love enough
to touch.

The love bug
is not kept in a jar
but left to roam from afar.
The love bug
must be set free
to see if it was meant to be.

Your words
fill me with oxytocin
the way love laces
each and every word you speak.
Your touch
fills me with endorphins
the way your warmth
melts away the blues.
Your beauty
fills me with dopamine
every time I realize how lucky I am
to have you in my life.
Your smile
fills me with serotonin
the way its joy spreads across the Earth.

Perhaps we
are both addicted
to the sensation,
the euphoria,
the madness,
of loving from afar.

There are those in life
who make you want to say
'I love you'
and there are those
who make you want to say
'*******'.
I want to be the one
who makes you want to say
both.

Love is a fickle
yet transcendent drug.
Beware its highs and lows
for the side effects
far outweigh
the addiction.

Love is a road
with potholes and pitstops,
crossroads and car trips-
a long and winding road
that runs forever in
our hearts.

Every time you
think about if he
is thinking about you-
you are letting
him win.

Your birth is a
love letter to my soul.
Whether you are near or far,
your existence will forever
adorn this heart.

This poem
is a love letter
that's been sealed with hope
and sent with the wish
that all my little words
find their way
to you.

You planted
sunflowers in this heart,
each one blossoming
a dream, a smile, a memory.
You touch this heart
and I am consumed
by love and
by light.

Sometimes I need my solitude
when the battery gets low,
when the voices are too loud
and when I feel the weight
of the world upon my shoulders.
We all have our ways of recharging
whether it be in shadows
or in light.

Self obsession
leads to a low opinion
and all that time and energy
could have been spent on
something else.
Get out of your head,
get out of your own way
and get out there.

Love me on the Moon
without Earth's borders
drawn between us
or it's gravity weighing
us down.
We'll dance among the stars
and forget our Earthly scars.

I never really cared
to dance in the twilight-
at least, not until I found someone
who hated the sun as much as I.
I still don’t care much to dance
but I at least have someone to sit with-
to feed off the moon
and the shadows-
having the time of
our lives.

The lust you feel
is nothing more than
the need for physical validation
that you are still desirable
to replace the emotional
rejection of being
unlovable.

Lust leaves
a bitter aftertaste-
yet the thirst for it
never wanes.

Lust is a star
exploding in my chest.
See it burn in the night,
a beacon only for your
pretty little eyes.
Come and tame this star
that burns for the galaxy
within your heart.

We are
problem-solving machines,
so naturally, in the absence
of real problems,
we cannot help but
create our own problems.
Perhaps we will never
be free of problems,
whether real or imaginary.

We were
not made for this world.
We were made for
each other.

We were
not made for this world.
We were made for
each other.

Our love
was magnetic-
two hearts that
were doomed
to repel.

All memories
leave a mark.
They can manifest
from scratches to scars
or the most
beautiful tattoos.

Loving you was a battlefield,
and a paradise.
The many masks you wore–
all those changing faces.
I never knew which one
you were coming home wearing.
One day you love me,
the next day hate me.

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

I want you
and a home to come home to
or maybe to come home to you
or maybe a home in you
or maybe I just want you.

Maybe we met too young.
Maybe at that time,
we didn’t know how to love each other right.
Do you think if we met years from now,
we would be right for each other?
If five years from now,
you decide that you miss me,
there’s a strong chance I’d take you back.

I've had a hunch that
it's all been meaningless.
Oh yes,
beautifully meaningless,
every word,
every touch,
utterly meaningless.

If I am a song,
you are the rhythm to my melody.
As for the lyrics,
they are written in a language
that only you could understand.

Deep down,
I think I know that
I am better off alone.
Maybe I’m just saying this
as a coping mechanism
or maybe if I keep repeating it
enough times,
I might actually
believe it.

One day
we will meet again.
Our time in this life
was far too short and
it has left me with a broken heart,
a piece of me now missing forever.
I am now left to grieve
for the fact that I cannot watch you
grow into the person you supposed to be,
or that I will never see nor hold you again.
Nothing can prepare us for that kind of grief,
the kind that comes so suddenly
and is out of our control.
The only thing that keeps me going
is the hope that one day we
will meet again, not today,
maybe not tomorrow,
but our time will come
again.

I am no longer anxious
because I have you.
I carry you in my heart,
I feel you in every beat and
all my sorrow
and stress melt
away from this soul.

One of my
favorite things to do
is to make you melt
again and again-
melt you into a puddle,
build you up again
and melt you yet again.

In this heart,
I keep the memories
we share so far and I
nurture them every single day.
I hope we can add more to this heart one day
but until then I am content knowing
that you are happy and loved
and making your own memories.
As for me, I can open this heart
and recall the way you smile.
Indeed, there is nothing more beautiful
than you and our memories will
stay in this heart forever until
the next one we create.

A thousand laughs,
a million smiles,
countless memories that fill our lives.
Each one timeless and forever
stored in our hearts.

There,
you will forever stay,
my favorite place of all:
our memories.

We are
just a memory
and memories
fade fast.

I remember the memories
you left on my plate.
To this day,
they keep me satisfied
and leave me wanting seconds.

This will be
a memory that
one day I will try
to forget.

I have hidden from my shadow.
I cannot look it in its eyes,
the ones that only serve to scorn me.
I fear its judgement,
its cold and its fury.
I try to dwell in the light,
far away from my shadow but
the shadow learns to adapt and annihilate.
Night time comes and once again,
it's just me and my shadow.

Depression doesn’t care for
the size of your bank account,
or tire from how many laps you can run.
It doesn’t care how bright the sun is
or who holds you in each night.
Depression sneers at all those photographs
lined upon your bedside table.
It won’t ask to use your emotions
to taint them and everything
that may hold some light to the dark.

I went to Hell
for Christmas eve
only to return with
something nice
to gift you for
this special
day.

I soar
like a meteor
directly into your heart
but the closer I get,
the more I begin to crumble
and lose myself to you.
Smaller and smaller
until I'm but a pebble
barely making a noise
upon your window.

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.