someday it will
come again.
someday someone
will come in.

a star
with the deepest depths in the eyes
with the gentlest of breaths
and endless soul in the smile

one day
i'll forgive this pain
not forget -
forgive.

I am fighting in a war
blood stain on my chest
the battle front  is empty
yet the field is a grand mess

and in this war, I stand
with no partner, king or hero
only pierced pain on my stomach
from a straight  cut bullet arrow

and this arrow had no bow
just soft hands that plunged my death
and I tell myself, enough
while I lose myself and breath

I am fighting a war
and in it, I fight alone
for  the enemy is me
with myself, I can not atone

I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because the last time I opened up to someone artistically they told me it was pretty dark and I should keep it to myself.

I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because I was raised in a culture that was anti love and pro meaningless ***. I saw endless commercials about movies that glamorize a lifestyle in which your body is fulfilled but your heart is ignored and at that impressionable age I learned my heart came second but my allure came first and the less I cared that happier I would be and I carried that belief around with me the way I used to carry around a Bible as a child.

I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because of the time that I opened my father’s phone to reveal a family secret I would hold to this day against my own moral instincts unraveling miles of insecurities wondering if I’m not a good enough daughter or if he stopped loving my mother or if true love was never real and although I had been taught marriage was my purpose, it was what I believed would make me happy, maybe rings aren’t enough to stay in love and maybe people’s feelings change and maybe no one actually has a “one true love” and that this purpose I had been taught was really an endless wild goose chase that only lead to broken families and lost souls.

I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because sometimes I still wonder why I fell into an abyss of toxicity at such a young age. And when I say wonder I don’t mean a trivial ponder, I mean I contemplate every possible reason why the person who I once believed held the universe in her eyes would lie to my face, why she never kissed me in public and our love was always a secret, why she valued girls with blue hair but my blonde hair was not good enough, why I had to hide bruises from my family when I was still in high school or more importantly, why at the time, I thought I deserved them. These thoughts, this lingering paranoia that I am undeserving of healthy love, they muddy my interpretations of real life and distort reality and effect my relationships. My doctor would call these intrusive thoughts, my best friend would tell me they’re symptoms of PTSD, but I have come to realize that I’ve been burned and I am damaged and I hope to god I can recover.

But you,
Oh god, you
You can write this poem. You can be my safety net while I’m free falling in love. You can be the one to listen to my mental tilt-a-whirls, you can be the one that introduces my body and my heart, you can be the one that calms the storms in my mind when I’m questioning the love I’m deserving of. You are the one who makes sure I fall asleep in my bed after drunk nights, you are the one that still sees my value after acknowledging my flaws.
You can write this poem.

there's a sense of loneliness that creeps up my heart at 2 in the morning. it is the loneliness that i have felt since you left without any goodbyes.

i look up and see nothing but the emptiness of a dimly lit and cold room - shivering, not because of the cold breeze the air conditioning blows but because of the lost of the warmth from your words and presence. maybe, you can drop a message or a note? something that can remind me of you, oh God, who am i kidding? everything reminds me of you.

it is the stuffed toy that still lies on a spot beside my pillow, hoping that somewhat it can give me comfort.

the glow in the dark stars on my cabinet; because you've always loved science, the stars and space.

my brother's bedsheet; just because coincidentally, he had to have it in your favorite character.

some poem that i've scrolled through; just because the words fit you like a puzzle.

just like that, everything is all about you.

you always seem to find a way to make it back into my life without knowing it, nor wanting it. because in reality, all these are just my excuses to remember you, even if you don't remember me at all.