He gave me dead flowers
So I can smell them every day
The rotten petals falling
The color of decay

The washed out sunflower
The dehydrated leaves
The mold on the water
The color of debris

The richly red rose
Now drooping to the floor
The color of love
Existed no more

But still I saved the flowers
And smelled them every day
And watered them with tears
To let them grow again.

The sun shines so bright,
guess it shall be
my forever true love's kiss.

Gentle breeze slaps my cheeks,
wonder why it is softer than your words?
And why,
why does your presence
hurt more than your silence?

When all we had
was beautiful memory.
And they said,
beautiful things are temporary,
I wonder if you count?

If love does exist,
why all that I ever felt was pain?
Sparks that were once there,
disappeared.

In another life,
may the one with genuine heart
receive more than one gives.

In another life,
may the heart healer
find peace one has been longing for.

In another life,
may the heart breaker
taste one's own actions.

In another life,
may we know each other better,
giving all to understand,
rather than arguments.

In another life,
may we find each other
as soul mates,
not heart healer and heart breaker.

Sincerely,
Jia.

I didn't want you,
I wanted love
and I have realised
that they are not the same thing.

You were a mould
that I poured my insecurities in,
a computer I tried to program.

But you are a sky,
stormy and clear and rainy and warm.

You were so blue when I longed for red.

I didn't want you.
I wanted the thought.