They say that over time, it dissipates -
it will drain from you, evaporate like smoke.
It will descend upon you, destroy you;
but will soon release you, and fade.

But with time it instead grows stronger,
demanding to be felt.
It knocks on the doors of my soul,
its urgency to be let inside unrelenting and ruthless.

Like an unpredictable storm, it lands and ravages,
leaving just fragments of a heart already rebuilt.
What is gone is the will;
the resiliency dulled, the courage spent.

It's a deep-rooted ****, an unrivaled opponent;
It's a malevolent fire that refuses to be smothered.
The Hurt:
a wound that permeates, and remains.

The hollow in my chest expands
with every shallow giggle
with a moderately funny punchline.

The hole where my deep breaths do not reach
becomes harder to feel reflection of air in,
every time I remember you
and realise something I feel in the marrow of my bones.

I can memorise every centimetre of your face
keep myself busy for 10 hours
and sleep for 8
I can hang myself in textbooks for centuries
but there will never be a portal to a world that I am with you.

Forget dying for you,
I sm living every torturous, second, hour, minute
for you;
the fact remains -
I will never see you again.

zh(28/19/16)

Seas that have earned their sparkle from the sun, at its picturesque potential
perhaps something you know as your eyes
and a heavy overflowing jug of intelligence, wit, charm and understanding pours out at a waterslide's rate within your mouth
spikes of subtle sexiness
grow in your cheeks
topped with a tidal haircut
just so I can appreciate the rest
is what keeps me distracted
in the most interesting of classes
and gossip filled television shows
perhaps even xanax wouldn't be enough
I am yet to find the worst quality in me to cancel out the best in you.

zh (26/09/17)