I pictured the rose red,
just like the sign on my door.
Maybe black,
just like the hole in my soul.
Or yellow,
just like the hope that I’ve lost.
But the rose is white,
just like the ghost
since you’ve been gone.

—n.y

Peaceful in the dark
that’s how it’ll be.
Undress your true self,
what’s hidden underneath?
A mess in a clear picture,
covered in a blur capture.
When you wrap the fractured,
under the thick skin.

—n.y

I wish I am
somebody else
that you never met.

Somebody else
that you won’t hate.

Someone better
than anyone else.

Someone better
than current mess.

—n.y

Staring at her own reflection
She mumbles;

    This is me.
    This is who I am.
    I’m losing myself in reality,
    relying on the person that I used to be.
    And here I am stuck in between,
    the light and the dark
    with no hope and dream.

—n.y

Running out of chances,
between the ground to the sky limit.
Looking for changes,
peeking through the hole on the ceiling.
Praying for answers,
will there be one if I keep asking?
Holding on to ashes,
forgive me not for I have sinned.

—n.y

It might be colourful;
Bloom.
Pretty for the eyes,
pretty as it lies —
what was inside.

It might be hurtful;
Proof.
When there’s love for you,
and there’s a heart beating too —
inside the loof.

It might not be you;
Truth.
Never be the time,
never be the one —
ready to run.

And she’ll run from the sun,
though she wished for it to shine.
Though she wants it to be the light,
as she needs it to lit her mind.
But she’ll run from the sun,
from being the one for you, son.

—n.y

I’ve been there trapped in the empty space.
Inside the box of endless maze.
I am myself with unfamiliar face.
Reaching for the light, dimmed in the haze.
Finding my way out, trying to escape

But they’ll pull me back in,
bury me deep into the grave.
Until I’ve learned how to let go of things,
until I’ve learned how to forgive.

—n.y