I cannot help myself to put it all down
On a piece of paper, on the palm of my hand, I just don't know where to put it,
I cannot keep it all to myself,
This is the only way I know,
My kind of way,
Writing all our pages, beginning to ending
Every single thought, even the tiniest thing i love about you
The things i hate about you but makes me
realize how lucky I am to have you.

I know you do not like when I’m nostalgic
Digging up things about stuff, from past and to the future,
Or repeating same topics or words over and over again,
Knowing everything about me was nightmare, I couldn’t disagree with that.
Maybe it is worst than you could’ve ever imagined.
Fighting our own demons and conquering every places we explore every day.
But I think it all matters, to Us.
Because everyone knows about You and I,
But nobody knows about Us, but Us.
The protagonists in our own tale.


I can't wait for you to recognize these stories
I wonder how will you act as if you haven't even heard it.
These scenarios like the first time you said you loved me,
or remember that time on the rooftop
As the moon smiles,
We drank wine and had good laugh.
Or that day when everything falls apart,
The day I lost you.


Sorry for writing poems about you
The happy ones,
The melancholy ones,
The ineffable ones,
I know that you hate it,
that I got more to say
But I had to and I
Promise no one will ever know that every moment with you was real,
That are love was true,
That once we are called lovers,
All the mistakes we made
And why you ran away.

I should’ve done something,
I should’ve stopped you that time,
I’m stuck in between:
“Fight for her or let her go,”
Maybe it’s inevitable,
So I pour my heart out with my pen,
Endlessly, sleeplessly, hopelessly
Until the ink runs out,
Until the coffee gets cold,
Until the idea of you became extinct,
Until then,
I’ll just be here in my unsubstantial world.
Without you,
My unending tragedy.