Within these four walls
I befriend the darkness
and my shadow is
no longer an ally.
Fifty-three minutes
and twenty-seven seconds
later
I burst into
broken butterflies' wings
and deafening screams
to keep the light away.
"Solitude is bliss."
but I find my
disturbia and bravado
*within these four walls.

Why do you sleep with your eyes open
and why do you breathe out sighs everytime?
Do you still feed on
worries and uncertainties,
my love?
Are you still having the same dream every night
and will your shrug be a satisfying answer
to my otherwise unimportant question?

Your hazel eyes are now
almost a vessel
not quite empty
yet not quite filled
for it contains nothingness
and it holds them with care
as if nonexistence is fragile

But I want to stare into those eyes
and drown myself in the depth of that gaze
Once again

But I refuse to be strangled by guilt
Because darling from now
I'll stop sugar-coating words
Reading you make-believe allegories
Or sprinkling fairy dusts
of empty promises
I have ceased to be anything like you

Now,
why do you stay silent,
my love
when you can tell me to stop?
Is it because
you, too
are losing hope?

She laughs, he smiles.
The black forest taste he could only taste at the peak of light beams
Her laugh seems similar, quite similar.
Her haha's outcasted the glooms and dooms
Just as the black forest melted on his taste buds when sun rays streaked upon his shoulder blades.

She cracked a joke, he laughs and nods
Intellectual is what they might say
A brainy maniac she is, who could co-host a sitcom
His Friday nights would now only be filled with her wits
Replacing all the beers and stouts for a while
His once bumpy and rocky throat is nil compared to the highly raised cheekbones visible during a good laugh

But one day she cried.
The guilt he carries overshadowed his sympathy.
Her big swollen eyes
Her pinkish and warm face which was covered in dribble
Hadn't he known?
All those time he made somersaults, he was drown deep below
He could breakthrough,
but was too mesmerized by the mermaid's blinking fishtail and scaly skin.

And she saved him
From being turned into a merman
Only then he was back to square one
Where her laughters, her jokes and her sobs are actually his sugar crush, his Gatsby gold
As always, she was after all, his soul saver.

but
the skies aren't always blue
there'll be days where the flowers don't bloom
and the grass isn't always greener on the other side
but
the milk spills
and you get blamed
and you'll run out of cereal
but
everybody dies
and nothing lasts forever
but
it's a secret
you should not know
but
you won't walk this pavement again
because everyday is a bad day

but
you know happiness is a choice
- and that you need no reason to be happy
for reasons may leave
or be taken away -
amidst the buts

Why haven't you been writing lately?
Because I miss walking at the park
Passing by your house
Looking at you through the window of your room
So preoccupied
So absorbed.

Your soul is shrunken
into the end tip of a pen
and you let it dance on the paper
to the rhythm of your words
and later
fathomed into magnificent poems

But I've found the reason
on a yellow Post-It
in a secret compartment
of a music box
left at my doorstep

It says,
"Pardon me
but you've been interrupting
my train of thoughts
quite often lately.
How about scones and tea
after three,
just you and me?"
with your initials signed

The reason is me*
and somehow I'm happy