there she goes.
a visitor in a dream.
a pinch in the heart.
a blur to the sight.
the air i can't breathe.

we were never introduced.
but i watched you.
beautifully.
adoringly.
in my dreams vividly.

ah.
i observed you.
like the way you drink your
coffee.
the way you sipped.
i noticed every bit of it.
how you enjoyed it.
how you stirred clockwise
with a spoon.
and like crazy, going zigzag,
with a stirrer.
its like an addiction.
my addiction?
still you.

you see i am no stalker.
im an observer.
maybe an admirer.
a lover? im not sure.
but this distance,
this rather short gap of
affection you own
but is unnoticed.
if only i can spit it out
and let it crawl towards you.
but i find it gross.
hahaha.
plain stupid.

you own me.
with every stare,
unintentional i know,
with luscious smiles,
i melt.
i get unmolded.
i morphed into something
really unknown.
oh you my trickster.
how you do that i do not know.

i hope i get the chance to
let you know.
to hold your hand,
even if it's just from a
friendly shake.
oh the joy it would bring.
days of uninterrupted daydreams and
nights of being wishful.

how you make me write
from poetry, to stories.
how you wanna make me
carve your name on
a tree.
cliche.
but still i wish you know.
how i dreamed of flying kites together.
my way of trying to reach heaven
with you. :)

but you are just a dream.
and i am still a dreamer.
i am still dreaming.
of you.
and me.
but not of you and me.
oh mournful reality.

-end-

the heart is the most deceitful thing there is.
the brain knows that.
we just find it hard to understand.
  
what we generally perceive as love is nothing
but a mere illussion of what we're missing,
what we want.

the rush of emotions we suddenly experience
is so overwhelming that we can't grasp
its true intention.

we are building false hope in ourselves,
and we feed the thought
and excitement.

when we deeply think about it,
we are just inlove with the thought
of being in love.

it's more of a feel-good trigger
we unleash if we lost that
adrenaline.

it's that fairytale ending we have in our
imaginations that waters the seed
of romance in our hearts.

sad thing is we don't live in a fairytale.
i might insist pessism in your thought,
hey i don't write your love story.

blame it all in the confusion and lies
about love and your fairytale dreams,
your ever-after might not be within reach.

love is an illussion.
a trickery even rocket scientist can't explain.
mind boggling fantasies about prince and princesses.

but there is hope. ( an accomplice)

hope that even if you don't live in a castle nor rule a kingdom
believe that someone will treat you as the princess
far better you imagined yourself.

and when that day comes you might want not stay in neverneverland.
you don't grow old there.
what's the point of i-wanna-grow-old-with-you line?

love is a dangerous and a beautiful thing to enjoy.
its like sinking in a quicksand of bliss.
or swimming in a sea of chocolatey sea of tears.

but remember that in the midst
of everything you
beLIEve
in is a
LIE.

be careful.

Tonight,
watch as the stars fall
and burn everything
in its path.
feel the twinkle
in your eyes vanish
as you feel its wrath.
like stars, love will enchant
your eyes and heart
with a promise.
a promise of a beautiful night.
but behind its grandeur
is its nature
to engulf in torment
everything it
touches.
if only you can get closer
and experience its deceit.
then you'll wonder
and question,
if it's that beautiful why is it out of reach?

if love cannot be tamed then let the
heavens unleash it.
like a raging chariot to the sound
of a trumpet.
like a hawk soaring down on
its prey.
with claws grasping the heart and
devouring the love.
like a shamans chant.
hypnotic and in trance.
a hearts dance is mysterious and
captivating.
but not like dust that
rain can wash away.
not like lust,
can be satisfied.
like thirst,
can be quench.
but love is insatiable,
everlastiing.
it ends not in death
nor sleep.
for in dreams love can
be spoken with a purpose.
a purpose one is fearful
enough to share
in reality.

behind the movie screens,

behind the fall of the curtain,

behind the defeaning screams,

behind the fame and the dreams,

behind all this glory,
   an actor fell on his knees
      and brokedown.

behind the limelight is a stage that
   doesn't require any set ups.

behind the character is a story
   that dont have a script.

behind all this drama and chaos,
   the Director says, "Cut!"
      and says, "Take Two!"

this is the story of an actor in his make believe,
   temporary world.

and the Director who gives second chances and
   many more chances.

in this stage called Life, may You focus
   Your spotlight on me Lord.

your name alone is poetry.
immaculate is your stare.
your eyes.
sacred.
black pearls from the depths of your soul.
ever whispering the wonders it brings.
divine. so underrated is the word.
to describe the sensation of your touch.
your skin so supple and tempting.
ravishing.
its radiance. blinding.
delectable.
luscious.
indulging.
a sensory overload of emotions.
an aftermath of dreaming what your
lips taste like.
succulent?
heavenly?
i am lost for words.
let the gods utter reasons so
distinct i might get the point.
pleasant but dangerously addictive?
just maybe so.
but not even close to obsession.
just the mere sight of you makes
the view grand.
a spectacle to behold.
in awe.
for you are my poetry.
gratifying.
just full of mystery.

empty expression on your face,
a weary traveler with untied shoelace.
you look years way off your prime,
now a remnant left by time.
where were the vultures who preyed on your ****,
who stayed with you for they scavenged your meal.
now you solely walk the streets,
glancing at the faces of people you meet.
life gave you so much then,
you have everything except for a queen.
but you lose yourself and went astray,
overdosed and overused you went the wrong way.
you stayed on that track for years,
cause you can't escape the devil in your ears.
finally you saw your reflection on the water,
a blurry image so clear you staggered.
what happened to me? you asked,
and shook your head as you remembered the past.
tears trickled down to your lips,
where you taste your own anguish and the nightmares
from your sleep.
your heart cried out in agony and pain,
for you left behind those who waited in vain.
you washed your face and turned around,
walk the opposite direction,
you're homeward bound.

you're all grown up now.
look at them staring at you.
desire. envy. lust.
you can see it.
their intentions leaking out through
their eyes.
they trace your skin and draw you in
their memories.
oh poor mongrels.
inch by inch they get closer.
you can smell the foulness of their
being.
the stench of pure malice fuming out.
like predators.
and you are the vermin.

you're all grown up now.
but your past is catching up on you.
you cant erase the scratches of your misfortunes.
the wailing sound of agony in your voice
as you struggled to get loose.
it still haunts you.
the ghost of your past.
the ghost that defiles after a deep slumber.
a memento.
not a worthy one.

you're all grown up now.
but nothings changed.
you are still a shadow of your old self.
a victim of circumstances.
thats what you are.
you embraced the tragedy.
no tears can cleanse the guilt you
hid inside.
the anger in your voice,
the remorse,
the denial.
overshadowed by the pleasure in
your moans.

Behind backs that would snap if their heads were to turn
Between stucco walls, under creaky floors, secret cigarettes burn

Giving fate back to god, allowing time to just roll into smoke
Despite shouldnt’s, besides sorry’s instinctual thoughts provoke

Earth shattering, nothing mattering, death dawning kind of kiss
Heart racing, breath pacing, bodies in an endless ocean of guilty bliss

For-shadowing risky statements, stuck on tongue, never to leave my lips
Dodging probing questions, when’s, where’s, why’s and if’s

Awaking eyes, empty room, slept away the whole afternoon
This day is dead, gone forever, put to bed by the moon

Pounding head, restless mind, only smoking to pass the time
Only lost until I find, only want what should be mine

Secrets kept are secrets rare, haunting, taunting me to share
Should I, could I, do I dare, why the hell would anyone care

In corridors, behind desks, over pots that boil
Around a small table, beside barrels of used cooking oil

Adjacent sideways glances, words burn backs that don’t hear
Whispers gain pace and reach solemn ears
Mean while nothing has felt so good for years

Between sheets and douvet, lungs rise and fall
On clean white pillows, eyes close and thank the stars for it all

Yearning hearts beat next to decent tunes, in a pristine room, a calmness looms

Inside secret moments unspoken words pour from finger tips,
Lightly, only slightly tracing neck and cheeks and jaw and lips