i miss us and the way we used to be

u used to come everyday and put a smile on my face

u used to call and check up on me in any place

but now

the calls and chats have ended

somehow i feel like I'm suspended

you were and u still are my other half

loving u and caring about u is still the same

i don't know what happened between us

i just wish i can go back to the old us

i know its not good to look back and wonder

so ill try to look forward and not surrender

i really loved what we were

we were happy, fun , full of energy and free

so i do believe that someday

we'll go back to the way we used to be

I fall in love with you again every time I fall asleep
It's inevitable
And darling, we hardly ever speak
We don't need to.
I don't need to see you
Not your eyes or their glow
I don't need to be with you
To know that your heart is my soul's home
I don't need to hear you
I see it perfectly
I need to be near you
And I need you near me

We'll never be what we used to be
But that doesn't stop me from falling in love with you
Every time I fall asleep

You should know that when I get to rest my mind
I dream of lovely, crazy things, like when I called you mine
I can find our love again, every time that I find rest
Out of all the lovers I've had, I'd say you were the best
I still imagine what it'd be like
To grow old with someone like you
I remember when I truly thought I would
But seasons change and people do, too

Just know I don't regret you

my lips are aching for your lips
i wish to intertwine ours in the most romantic way
leaving both of us equally breathless.
i wish to show you in every way possible
just how crazy i am
for you.

So you keep excusing yourself
For being absent-minded and forgetting
Me at the back of your shadows.
Just because I’m dead it doesn't mean I
Do not starve anymore, you know?
My hunger feeds on your clumsy ways of
Unstitching me.

hours have been spent
hours of me, staring at myself
not in a mirror, not at a picture
but of my words

and,
i've come to realize that i have been wrong
and i have been wronged
emotion and pain are understandable but,
how can these words possibly explain how i feel

i've been thinking of someone else for too long
my problems aren't contingent on our relationship at the moment...
because that's pathetic and weak and it's not me
nor will i let it become me

i've been wrong
i cant blame you for not loving me
i cant blame the world for believing that my feelings toward you...
are unrequited
and i wont blame myself either

as a writer...
as a person...
the type of person i am...
it's difficult to call my previous prose and poems
"works of self victimization"
even if they are,
they're still art

**** what everyone else thinks
**** the world
**** everyone

but i will never say "*******" to myself

and that is where i have been wrong

it's going to take more than this
one, long, grievance
to mitigate...


NO

NO

NO

NO

NO

I changed my mind
I have the right to be angry and the right to be hurt
You hurt me and I won't let that go until you say "I'm sorry"

And I take back that comment about "self victimization"
**** that entire concept
If I am a victim of someone else's careless actions, I remain sane in writing it down
I can think of myself however I want to
I was NOT wrong
I was right in every sense of the word because I conveyed the emotion that will never slip through my mouth
It's the emotion that will only pour out of my eyes
and out of my heart
It;s the emotion that is surreal, yet my reality






























NO

My heart is cold. It had been previously overheated, by emotions that my mind took in like sweet ecstasy only to spit these emotions out like sour milk. My body learned to stare at the milk carton, and no longer have the urge to drink the liquid that is perfectly fine. Expiration date: five weeks from now. But no, ever since I drank that sour glass, I can’t be emotional anymore. I want to sympathize and empathize, but only with you. Because here, empathy could be easy and sympathy would be natural. But, all I want to feel is you. I want to feel the shape of your thoughts. I want to be constricted to you and only you. You’re the only milk I’ll ever drink. You’re today, tomorrow, and yesterday. You’ve told me that your father is an alcoholic. He would get drunk off wine, and you called him a “*****”. You always stare into my eyes before we conform to each other’s bodies and say “Why are you always so sad”. My response is never fulfilling, and I’m sure you want to know about me, but I’m not ready to tell me story, so tell me yours. Your father is an addict. He had a difficult childhood and grew up to be a man, both hated and praised. Your mother had breast cancer and back surgery, but why? Maybe I don’t even need to know about your parents, what about you? You stare into my pupils and question my ever-present sorrow, so, may I question yours? Why do you shut off your emotions, the same way I do. Why do you remain unaffected by the pain of others? I have tasted the sour milk on my tongue, and I vow to never taste it again. But, when our lips touch, I taste honey and I smell lilac, and I feel home. So tell me, what your story is, please… We feed off each other’s agony and cry in our beds at night, we meet up at midnight so that we don’t feel alone, we rest in the pain that makes us bitter and unkind. I need to know your story, because although I have seen bits and pieces of an overcomplicated puzzle, I need to see the whole picture, and you need to see mine. Please, you’re all I have. Let me taste honey and smell lilac and feel at home, because with you, my heart is warm,