I'll probably be asleep when you get this, when you wake up**
I'll probably be starting class when you get out
I'll probably be at lunch while your at dinner
You'll probably be asleep when I am,
Getting ready for bed when I get out of class

I hold out pens like cigarettes.

I sent an old friend a "Happy Birthday" text and then deleted her number.
I like to think that she never replied because I blocked her number,
But I don't remember

I want to know if she wanted to forget me.

I never want to forget again.

I've drawn your face with words
I've drawn her's with tally marks,
Counting all of the of the times that I thought back to that mistake

Words are forever,
And I hope you are, too,
But in case you aren't,
I never want to forget

I am holding on to every second I saw your face
People try to take that from me
That's one reason I have no friends:
Your memory is a better friend than they could ever be
So I hold on to you, instead.

I need to hold your hand
And let go of her's
But yours is just out of reach
And her's faded years ago.
I have fallen in love with holding on to nothing
To no one's hand
No one can be my best friend when they have to be
I wish I didn't have to be alone

I hold out pens like cigarettes
Because I hope that my words can leave permanent marks.

Do you close something in night?
And sprout them in dawn
Or you are just balancing yourself
Between white and black,
Covers blue sky with your clear cloth,
and from red sun you absorb opposite of drops-
Photons by which it create garland for earth.
In evening you replace hot sun with cool moon,
O, wizard of universe I bow down in front of you.

It is not sun but night who decide day and night
We all learn about sunset and sunrise
Who knows it is sun or night?
For them it is Sun who radiate light
For me it is darkness radiated by night
The night which never reflect light
Both are bright, right above infinite height.

The trouble with Hello Poetry
Is that I fall in love daily
Held under so many captivating spells
moulded and crafted by all walks of life
I find myself longing for all of you
the broken, the fallen, the bruised
the saints, the sinners
the righteous, the dispossessed
the holy, the unholy
all meet here
to speak of life
as they feel it
as only we know it.
Onwards, upwards
Downward spirals
kindness, cruelty
crashing through boundaries
bounding across oceans
carried on wistful sighs and broken dreams
The trouble with Hello Poetry
Is that it breaks my heart
Then brings me back to love again
All within an hour.