I am trying to let things off my chest
It's about time i realize
not all of us are mean't for true love and all that.
I read somewhere "
we define love
by what we experience."

It's safe to say,
What has been so clear so far
is that passionate love
That i used to dream off
Doesn't apply to me.

Nor the kind of soft love
that can exist between two people
who want to share their lives.
I don't have that either

What i do have
Is a list of rejections.
All this time ,I've been blaming myself
Thinking I am the problem
But not anymore
I am a totally awesome person.

I just wasn't meant to share that
Romantic passion with anyone.
I am making peace with that.
I really am.

I'll divert all that energy
That was seeking and looking around
for "Real Love",
To things that will build me up
or help me achieve my dreams
Be a blessing to other people.

Not all of us
Are destined for romance
Not all of us have that One person
We are waiting to find.

I just wanna live my life happy
Doing all the things that are necessary
Having an impact with the world.
I'll share that passion.
That,I know I can do.

This was written in the dark.
Whispered in the night.

It was wished upon a rising sun,  
Released in morning light.

Less a poem than a prayer,
A whimper more than scream.

Born as naked hope and watered,  
Grown from faint idea to dream.

Now the sound of summer coming;
Breezes rustling greening leaves,

Leaves us knowing things as growing,
Be it flowers, crops or trees.

Painless birth from earth to air,
Summer; springtime's daughter

Laughs and sings to sunkissed things,
Wet with broken water.

When you're fast asleep and dreaming
Head lain upon my heart
I feel our beats and breaths together
Like they were right at the start
It's just us two in this moment
Bodies, hearts and souls entwined
I'll hold these moments in my heart
Keep them treasured for all time

I sense my heart is getting heavier and heavier as the sun rises higher then dips down to the horizon. I really don't know what to do. My mind is stuck. I wish I could be selfish about where I go and what I do. I wish I could let go of this burden that is sitting inside my ribcage. I wish it could speak aloud, and someone would get ahold of me, and all I'll do is cry and cry and scream until my voice becomes throaty and hoarse, inevitably losing to nonexistence. I wish I could just escape from education without actually leaving it. I wish I could postpone life. I wish life would just stop for a moment so I wouldn't worry so much and I wouldn't claim to have anxiety. I wish I could just do all this next year. I really need time to be my friend. And I wish my voice was here. Because it was never here. It was always too stuck up to speak. I wish I could talk to my mom as honest as I would talk to my best friend. I wish I could just tell her what I really want. I wish I wouldn't worry so much about what people thinks. I wish I could be careless and careful simultaneously. I wish when I lift the corners of my lips, it lifts the heavy weight of my heart, too. I wish people would just stop. I wish I wouldn't stress so much even though I haven't really started anything yet. I wish I know what I really want. I am wishing a lot of things. I wish I didn't wish for a lot of things. I just wish I was satisfied with life for once.

The day after I got rejected, my dad called me out of my room and I knew what was coming. I wrote him a note. When I finally saw him sitting on the sofa, he told me to sit down. He began with, "Son, what's your plan?" I mumbled bluntly, "I don't know." He scratched the back of his bald head and continued, "You know, you need to find your passion in life. You might have thought that mechanics was your thing, but maybe--" he yammered on and on, about how to live life and what to live for. I handed out the note to him. He paused. "What's this?" "Please read." On the paper, I'd written, "I know, I know. This whole thing might just be a hobby after all. Yes, I have to find something that I'd be happy to work on. But right now, please let myself be delved in the sadness, so once I get out of it, I won't ever look back."

I'm a wordless poetry; inexplicable
and unwritten
A blank space after a finished sonnet,
just waiting to be scribbled.

I hope she doesn't ask,
"What if?"

Sometimes I stop and think
You're so young, so full of joy
What would you know about
The bitterness of this life

So carefree you
Sway as you walk
Never doubting the dark corners
Barreling your way through

Then I stop and think
Are we meant for each other
Or will we break together?
Floating around in pieces?

What would you know of hate?
You've barely learnt to love
Who's to say your patience won't wane
When the moon shrinks smaller?

is there a reason why I can't imagine my life ten years from now?
people know what they're passionate about
I used to know what I was passionate about
until real life hit me like a truck
and shattered my dreams into fragments on the concrete of my self-doubt
why am I so afraid of my future yet so unsatisfied with my present?