A day long been forgotten
was the day our paths had crossed.
Back then, I was made of brittle bones
and smoke-filled lungs –
a parasitic host.
And you were a scratched mixtape,
glitched beyond repair –
a spectre of menace.
We became a tragic misadventure -
a meteor crash,
a numbing hailstorm,
a catastrophic shipwreck.
Safe, it was no longer.
I felt the ground crumble when
you left.
Our story had no rhythmic patterns
or ballad structures,
just a simply-written prose.
If only we had met today,
I, a blossoming daffodil in spring
and you, a picturesque landscape
But fate vehemently opposed.
Who else to blame for our love’s brevity
But time, the relentless enemy.

Have faith in the beauty
of your solitary existence,
immerse in the reality
of love's absence.
Celebrate in the middle
of a starry, lonesome night,
gear up for the battles
only you can fight.
Mourn for the people
who can't cut loose
and tethered to the
toxicity of unwanted abuse.
Embark on a journey
to find yourself,
channel your emotions
to the truest you've felt.
Make amends with
past relationships failed,
start anew but be marvelled
at the mess you've made.
It's a blessed new day
and for the first time,
you're allowed to do it
your own way.

As I gaze upon the beauty that only so much of my eyes can grasp,

I enter into the universe of a human being who is composed of multiple galaxies pooling together to create a breathless whole. Planets embody the few people he trusts enough to orbit his life, meteors are his conflicting beliefs colliding with each other, while the stars manifest the milestones he has unlocked, and connecting one to the other forms meaningful constellations of who he is today.

As I examine every angle of his curved physique,

I open the anatomy of a human being whose organs agree to a pact  
of building a sanctuary - an oasis that would keep him safe from the evil trying to penetrate his subconscious. The blood in his veins rushes throughout his body to enliven a dormant soul, his ribcage is a fortress that shields his heart from shattering into a thousand irreparable pieces, and his bones contain enough calcium to trace a perfectly disproportional outline of the human figure.

As I listen to the first words uttered by his misty pink lips,

I hear the music of a human being whose taste mixes with unorthodox genres and whose spirit is filled with rhapsodies of the heart. He eludes electronic pop melodies but dances to the rhythm of jazz and the way that he drowns in the unconventional has resonated with the beat of my heart - steady, slow, and sometimes fast.

And here I am, hoping for the ball of luck to find me, because who am I to fall in love with a masterpiece when I am merely an unfinished artwork that ceased to exist?

her heart burns with fiery passion
it sparks in moments unfathomed
her mind converses
in soliloquy
it reigns above knowledge
unconquered
her facade divulges
the potency of strength
it conceals the scars
and wounds unhealed
still she stands ablaze
clothed in golden streaks
and red flames of life’s
euphoric haze.

cascading laughter on the precipice edge
as eyes dance to a symphony of bliss
and lips sing to a melody of sweet spontaneity.

Sometimes I miss him
There are times
I don’t.
Like random flu shots,
Like a stopover down the road.

I’m not all over him -

Clearly no desperate longing
At any angle for his somber, dark eyes
Nor enigmatic smile.
Though I do admit -

Gaps of the day, I use to fantasize
Ever allured by the curves of his body
Tenderly lulled by his mellow voice -

On my knees, I am hypnotized.
Visualizing the way he brushes his fingers
Eminently against my back.
Rejuvenating - it sends chills down my spine,

Yes, my spirit’s taken aback.
Oh, I’m in denial but if truth be told,
Unravel the message…



Read the first letters of every line and unfold.

whats up with the world tweeting “humans but no humanity” and ranting about violence and terrorist attacks sweeping the country one city at a time? it’s awkwardly funny when we think violence is just about all these massive issues - terrorism and ****, because haven’t you been told? no matter how big or small, violence is still violence. now we say there’s too little of love left in the world but we don’t even care to look at ourselves in the mirror first before expressing these sentiments. you say there’s not much of it left? how can there be any more of it when we can’t even forgive our enemies. how can it be when instead of praying for the people we hate, we stab them repeatedly in the back with our words, gossips, and senseless accusations. how can it be when we try so hard to be the “good one” but really we’re all just seeking for attention. it ***** to see all of us etching words in these social media platforms about love and humanity when we barely even walk our talks. love starts with the way we treat those around us. after all, we’re all just a bunch of feel-good hypocrites.

P.S. i used the word ‘we’ to be collective and inclusive of myself