The sakura whispers
with the softness of first light,
but it burgeons,
as all brave hearts do,

it drapes its limbs
in the tender cradle of the breeze,
sending roots deep
to clutch the heart of the earth.

And when it blooms,
oh, how it blooms,
with the ferocity
of a love that refuses silence,

as if it alone
were chosen to guard
the fragile blush
of dawn,

its petals holding
the light,
infusing its essence
as it reaches for the sky,
yearning for the sun's warmth
and the rain's solace.

Sakura hesitates
in the moment before unfolding,
for it knows
that beauty unfolds in its own sacred time -

Life is a tender whisper
in the vastness,
and to blossom at all
is an act of divine grace.

And oh,
the season of oblivion
ascends like a thief,
swift, silent,
deadly.

a breath in the vast emptiness,
a universe yawning wide
to devour every decibel
a void wide open
engulfing every sound.

And in my dreams, I swear,
your laughter was a revolution,
the earth halted its hustle,
and in that fleeting heartbeat,
there was laughter,
there was a ceasefire,
and we were its sanctuary.

And when I woke,
your absence was a canyon,
a shadow once more,
I fought for air,
fingers trembling for solidity.

I faced my shadows,
whispered, "Not now, not now,"
and cast them further into the abyss.

I anchored myself to this planet,
stood, knees quaking like fault lines.
I moved,
with a heart dense as a dying star,
and I stumbled into oblivion,
oblivion,
oblivion,

conceding that all we've amassed in the end,
signified
nothing after all.

Hello, my friend,

They say life's what you make it
But I swear, sometimes it feels like
Life's nothing more than a canvas
Painted by every heartache and heartbreak.

You've got these hands that shake like earthquakes,
And a heart that's been through wars
More times than you care to count.

And you don't know if you're a mess or a masterpiece,
'Cause every stroke on this canvas
Feels like it's come from someplace else.

You've got treasures buried deep inside you,
But sometimes they may feel like gilded garbage,
And you can't tell which is which.

You've been to the bottom of the well,
And you've looked the devil in the eye,
And you've come back with nothing but your poetry,
And the rhythm of your aching heart.

Sometimes, my friend, you wonder if you're anything
But depression, and a lifetime of grief,
And you don't know what sets you apart
From the agony that surrounds you.

But even when the strongest souls
Start to lose their fight,
You're still here, reaching for the light.

So if this life is what defines you, then let it be known
That you are a survivor, a warrior, a force to be reckoned with.
You are the sum of every joy and every pain,
And every moment that has brought you here today.

And when the darkness threatens to consume you,
Remember that you are not alone,
For your poetry and your heartbeat
Resonate with so many others who have fought this battle too.

And even though the road ahead may be uncertain,
Take comfort in the fact that you are not your sadness,
You are not your suffering, you are not your mistakes.

You are a masterpiece in progress,
A work of art that is still unfolding,
And your story, your voice, your heart
Are all essential parts of the beauty that is you.

So keep going, my friend,
Keep fighting, keep creating, keep living,
And know that no matter what comes your way,
You are loved, you are valued, and you are enough.

Today, I tended to my tulips,
Uncertain if they would bloom,
Once, I planted their bulbs with care,
But now, with labor, I presume.

When I was healthy and whole,
I sowed these seeds with grace,
When I could rise from bed with ease,
And greet the morning's face.

Not truly happy, but somewhat better,
I watched them grow with care,
Their petals the color of the sunset's ember,
Or the golden sun's fiery glare.

Instead of my apathy,
I must write with a softer hue,
Perhaps this is a new beginning,
Or an old one, anew.

I strive to be strong and sound,
Ate breakfast and took a walk,
Though the battle within still goes around,
And my arms remain locked.

The urge to harm myself, a foe,
But my tulips may yet bloom,
Perhaps this means I can let go,
And let old wounds resume.

I fear to reveal hidden scars,
But today, I tended with my all,
My tulips that I thought might falter,
Perhaps I can again stand tall.

Tick-tock, time flows,
And winter, soon departing goes,
Or has it gone, already flown?
Tick-tock, time marches on.

But I, I've lingered long,
Like a statue, not so strong.
All bones and skin and agony,
Pouring into itself constantly.

Sleep eludes my weary soul,
But worse, I've forgotten my role,
Lost the penance I swore to keep,
Left alone with a cost too steep.

My soul, not worried, but I'm concerned,
For the price of redemption to be earned
Is insurmountable, so high,
The greatest suffering, nigh.

Tick-tock, time moves on,
Soon I'll be gone, long withdrawn,
And none will notice, I've disappeared,
For I, never belonged here.

And, oh, this heart
Bears an abundance of sorrow,
While my soul is left
With pockets barren and void.

But, alas, that proved our undoing, my love.
When the hour arrived to bid you farewell,
And consign you to an earthen crypt,
I could not bring myself to release you.

And so, I descended to the underworld,
Where I offered my soul to the grim reaper,
In exchange for a reprieve from your loss.
He accepted my offering without a second thought,
Devouring my essence whole, without a shred of mercy.

Yet, through it all, I felt not a single twinge of pain.
For the agony of losing you was far greater,
Than any torment, the reaper could inflict upon me.

The conclusion of our world, my love,
Does not meet its end with a faint sigh
Nor a resounding explosion.

Instead, it fades into an unbroken hush,
As the cosmos is interred in peaceful stillness.

The gods ask me,
As to how I have persevered,
And I share with them my secret.

For even in the face of everlasting solitude,
The void resounds with the melody of your name.

my friend,
in the morning
the sun might not
reach your floors
but it will still shine
outside.
bright, and blazing
as it always will be.

and the flowers
might not bloom
in time to greet you
but they are growing
and growth takes time

and the coffee
might not be enough
to wake you
from your slumber
but it will belong
in the palms of your hands.

i cannot promise
that life will soften
at any point,
or that the world will be gentle
enough for you to live
without bleeding,

but i can promise
that if you keep breathing,
you stand the chance
to change the life you’re leading
into a future you can call home.
you deserve that life ahead of you.

and even if
you do it all alone
the world is made better
for harboring your heart

that loves all things
life has torn apart
and gives them the peace
they have been dying for.

you are the healing
that comes after the war,
the strength that helps
others rise from their knees.

you are the heartbeat
amidst the suffering,

the humanity itself,
amidst the stone.

it is you who opens the blinds
to let the sunlight in.

it is you who reminds the birds
that it is time to fly again.

and i am sorry,
we could not be the same for you.

my friend,

if you were afraid
of dying alone

of having lived
without purpose

of staying
of leaving

without anyone
to recall your name,

rest easy, rest easy,
rest easy.

we will remember you,
i will remember you.

in another life
we are in your heart
and you are whole
and you are home

and you recognize
the love everyone has for you
and you don't feel alone

and you do not break
where you stand

in another life,
you would not be the person
you thought you became

and the sound
of the names of your failures
does not bring you
to your knees.

they do not wound you
or make you bleed

they do not destroy
what we held so dearly.

in another life
you choose to stay

and
you do not disappear.

you kiss me the way nobody ever has before.
not without expecting something in return.
and here i am sick and runny-nosed and you love me anyway
you love me in a whole new way,
but it is honest,
genuine.
you love me, hesitantly at first
and then you threw yourself into it,
and so did i.

and suddenly i am looking at the stars
through light polluted skies;
suddenly i am finding you in all my favorite songs
suddenly,
you are my favorite song
and my favourite eyes,
my favorite,
and you feel how i imagine what home feels like.
baby, i'm home.

darling, no,
the coffee
won’t keep you and i
awake

and the breakfast you just had,
will not fill you.

the sun itself will still shine
but it will not reach
your floors

and the moon
will not win
over the shadows.

it will be striking silence
that greets you
when you make it outside,

and you will find,
the world still turns
without you.

and you'll know that if you love,
sometimes,
you will lose.

prayers will fall
on deafened ears,

no hands will rise
to dry your tears

and life
will keep marching on.

it does not end
when you are gone.

but wait, darling,
a moment,
before you leave.

do not abandon me
to grieve,

do not leave me behind.

because even though the world
might be fine
and all the stars
will still inevitably,
shine,

i cannot attest
to what will be left
of mine.

it is you who have kept
the beats in my chest
and finally,
gave my soul a home.

i know,
i cannot possibly do this
on my own

so stay,
i beg of you,
please stay,
with me.

baby,
without you,
there is no poetry.

i love her,
more than i ever
will be able to quantify,
and more than she will ever know.

some days,
i need a pair of arms
to fall into,
that feel more like home
than an open door

other days,
i want to be kept
the way the devout
keep their prayers

or the way sinners
keep their forgiveness
pressed in their palms

i've always wanted to belong
to someone
who didn’t need to stay

someone who chose me anyway
in spite of the mess i carry,
and the disarray

this time,
i need this girl,
her,
to be okay
with my weaknesses

And i promise,
i will love her, still,
and i hope,
she loves me the same.

i kiss her,
and she whispers my name
as i do so,
and i hope it won't ever hurt her
to say it

when i pull away,
her eyes glitter
and shimmer
and i hope it stays that way
for always.

she holds me close,
and it feels like home.

please,
go slow, go gentle,
learn to hesitate,
before you let yourself fall.

before you risk it all,
on someone else,
you must first protect yourself
before you let it all go.

you'll never know
how they will choose to hold your heart.
it could all fall apart
in the palm of their hands.

and then you will not be able to stand
again.

you will be on your knees
begging for their mercy
or reprieve,

you will once again
succumb to your grief
as it carries you home.
you will be left alone,
yet again,
to your own suffering
and there will be nothing
to dry your tears.

you will dissolve,
and disappear,
into your despair,
a penance you will have to bear
as it swallows you whole.

so please, my dear friend,
protect your soul
because it is too precious to break.

i cannot bear to know you ache
deeper than everyone else,

you do not belong on the shelf
i reserve for those that are broken,
as another poem for the lost,
that is too great a cost
that i cannot dare to pay.

go slowly, my friend,
hesitate.
stay.

do not jump and fall away
if someone will not become your wings.

you do not deserve the ending
that comes from the far fall.

you do not deserve to be hurt
at all.

baby, it is two in the morning
and i have seen every hour
since the beginning of the week.

i no longer sleep,
because there’s nothing left
for me to retain
except for the memories
that ruin me like ghosts
and i am now the building
they haunt.

i am no longer a home,
because home is where the heart is
and mine is where i left it,

in your hands,
broken and fallen apart,
in the spines of books
and the spaces of my letters,
in everything

just so that it isn’t in me anymore.

i can no longer bear it, really.

it is two in the morning,
and the ghosts are stirring
from the shadows of my walls.

i do not miss you at all.

i think.

you don’t need a drink
but you pour it anyways.

you watch as it pools
in the bottom of your glass,
grimace as the ice cubes
clink together in laughter

it is mocking you,
this drink,

your weakness humors it.

you swallow it angrily
hungrily

it bites back at your throat

you scoff at the burn
and smile around its relief.

you don’t need this drink
but you enjoy the penance
that follows,

it almost condones
your sins,

you almost forgive yourself
for your failures.

you traded your demons
for ones that are easier to hide

you wanted to get better
and i know, you valiantly tried,

but you also offered them a home
in the hollow of your chest,

you gave them the darkness
and let them rest.

and when they woke
and gnawed on your bones

you fed them your heartbeat
as if you could atone

for all the wreckage
your hands have wrought,

as if you could find the peace
that you have sought.

but they knew, i know,
and they grew in size,

now they live under your tongue
and tell your lies.

i know you are not strong
you are not brave

you grab your shovel,
you dig your grave

and you crawl right in
and close your eyes.

they can keep a secret
and so can you

as i peered into the darkness
it stared back at me

and in that moment,
i felt everything
and nothing of my apathy

in that moment,
i learned that the void
wasn’t empty.

it just echoed
around the absence
of what i missed the most.

can you imagine my surprise
when i yelled your name
and it replied back to me?

my darling, you are the enormity
of my universe.

you are my end
and my beginning

and everything else in between.

so come home to me, my love,
come home to me.

and darling,
i buried a entire lifetime in you.

all the what could have beens
and should have beens

and what was
and what could never be.

the entire story of you and me
read just like poetry.

it is beautiful and broken,
and both silent and spoken.

our story,
lived on the tip of our tongues
and then afterward,
haunted the hollows of our lungs.

our every kiss was a saving grace
and for every touch, we carved a wider space
between our beginning and the end.

my sweet, you taught me how to love again
in a wildly fierce and fragile way,
and i loved you even when you could not stay
and turned me away.

i loved you,
even though it destroyed my heart.

i know that we cannot go back to the start
and rewrite any part of our story,
and read it some other way
we can’t forestall the wreckage
or heal the wounds that still bleed.

all the ink to our story
has already been spilled,
and all the what might have been never will,

but darling,
to me,
there was an eternity in loving you,
filled with hopes and dreams anew.

i lived them all within the time i was given with you,
and though it goes against all reason and rhyme

i swear,
i buried a lifetime in you.
i buried my heart in you.

and oh, i'm sorry.
its all coming back again,
the sorrow
the hurting
the caving in

as if i was a monument
that still had a long way to fall,

as if i had not already
lost it all
to the fissures
that broke beneath my skin.

i am no longer the moss-lined ruin
where the sun still meets
the stone,

i am sharp, i am broken,
with dark bruised bones
that would definitely crumble
beneath the touch of your hand.

but i will still leave
a wound that bleeds you
right where you stand.

that is the price
of loving me.

to be haunted by the memory
of everything i used to be
and everything that i became
and will be.

not even the ghosts
dare to whisper my name
because of the way
it disturbs the hall.

there is a reason
the demons
are best left sleeping
beneath the walls.

but oh, i'm sorry,
it all comes back again,
the sorrow,
the hurting,
the caving in

as if i still had something
left to lose.

the ghosts,
my ghosts
bow their heads to you
as you slowly take your leave.

take one last look at me
before you go.

do not flinch as the shadows
fold me away from your view.

there is nothing left here
for me to turn back to,
and for you to return to.

i wrote this poem
before I even knew the words
that i wanted to convey to you

that is how beautiful
you are to me -

you give purpose
to fifteen letters,

you give reason
for broken lines,

you give hope
to this poet

that maybe one day
i can write you

in all the ways
you deserve.

and love you,
in all ways you
want and need.

darling,
if you ever come home to me,

your favorite meal
will be on the stove,

your tea will be cooling
on the counter

and the windows will be open
to let in the light
of a fading sunset.

when you come home,

your favorite blanket
will be freshly washed on the couch

there will be fire
sparking warmth across the tile

and the music that will play,
will soothe to your soul.

when you come home,

i will bring our cat to greet you
and a smile will startle across your face.

when you come home,

the world outside will be hushed just enough
to remind you that here is where you belong.

so i hope you come home to me,
someday,
one day.

my sunshine, if you are reading this,
i love you.

its the kind of love
that grows from kindness,

the love that lets you look
at another human being
and smile

my darling,
i am asking you how your day went
because i really do care
long enough to stay
and wait for your answer,

and i will listen
because i am here
to do just that.

i am asking how your heart is
because I know sometimes people
forget to check-in,

and i am offering you a shoulder
should you feel the need to cry,
or feel the need to lean on something
when the world gets tough.

i will wear my heart on my sleeve
so that you feel less alone
and see that i, too, have wounds of my own

and love,
i will always,
always,
make the time for you.

so come with me,
sit a while.
if you do not want to talk
about what hurts
we can talk in hopes.

it is high time the world
becomes less lonely,

so i am extending my hand
and reaching for you.

i love you,
i love you.

you can be anything
they say

as if in encouragement
or judgment,
sometimes i cannot tell,
sometimes i cannot decipher.

it is as if people forget
that being anything at all
is exhausting in itself.

that simply existing is not at all gentle
but a fight and a battle cry
and a call for hope
all in one.

i am sorry if my progress
is slow,
if my wounds take longer to heal.

i am, first and foremost,
just trying to learn
what it means to be me.

and maybe, just maybe,
for now
that is all i want to be

i want to explore myself
and finally,
be proud of my victories,

i want to carry myself home
to my skin

i want to belong again.

darling,
i will always miss you

the way you laugh
in a freefall
eyes,
your beautiful eyes,
too brown,
too full of life,
too wonderful

lips that are too full with laughter,
and mine
your words that are too
**** kind
and open arms
like something out
of stained glass

a mirage,
something finally correct
after thousands of years

a
smile

kiss

whatever
you’ve
got

i miss it,
always.

i believe,
even the stars
get tired.

when the night sky
had folded them away
back into the darkness

and the moon,
that lonesome thing,
has doused itself in shadows.

so will you too, my friend
shy away from the light
as if it would burn
if it reached you.

maybe you feel,
you just are not strong enough
to face the day.

that the midnight hour
is a broken thing

and oh, the silence
is deafening.

and you and i know, even the stars
are tired.

you mourn for them
as their light expires.

it’s not difficult to love
someone like her

it’s as if every particle of mine
is yearning to rip itself to pieces
just to crash into hers

it is both agonizing
and the sweetest relief
when she holds my hand

and when her lips finally met mine
i felt all the known universes collide
and realign
to keep the two of us
in the center of the fray.

she stays,
the way nobody else has before
and i want for nothing more
when her eyes meet mine
except for maybe just a little more time
to drown in those earthen hues

and if i am to spend the rest of my life
loving her as ardently as I do,

well, i will press a kiss
to the pulse of her wrist
and thank God every time,
that she exists

over and over
and over again,

i will trace every ounce of her skin
with gratitude.

there were times
when all you needed
was a soft place to fall
and nobody extended
their arms to catch you

but i hoped,
a blackbird would startle
and flap her wings
and bunker further
into her nest
and the sound of her chicks
whispering back to her
was enough to keep you going.

and there were times
when you needed a hand to hold
but all you could grasp
were the shadows,

but then the moon
would pour liquid silver
to light your way
and it was enough
to make you stay.

and then,
there were times
when you were so alone
that the ghosts in your chest
felt more like home
than the people around you,

but your cousin’s laughter
would echo down the halls
enough to suspend your fall

and though you are aching
and though you are breaking
the way all things do

i'd like you to know,
that this life is worth living
in spite of it all.

the hard part
about being in despair
is it’s infectious

you speak of it
and all of a sudden
all the others carry the burden

as if it is their fault
that you are unhappy.

sadness
is an isolating thing
that tells you to reach out
for someone else

only to realize
how damaging it is

and so you cave deeper
within yourself
as if your ghosts
could fill the place
your loved ones used to be

it is a lonely thing,
your sadness, my friend.

it tells you that you are no good,
for those around you,
and that you are unworthy
of their help

so you cave in
to yourself,

and find your ruin
in the silence.

the hardest part
of loving you,
will not be to let you go,

it’s holding on to you,
when life rears its head
and threatens to tear
the two of us apart.

and in spite of the wounds
on both of our hearts,
we must keep a grip
and not let them slip
away,

we must stay
and weather the wreckage together
as if destruction
is kinder when it is shared

and baby,
even if you’re scared
of bearing the scars,
you must not let them mar
the sanctity of the love
within the hollow of your chest.

the hardest part of love
is not knowing when
we will fall to ruin

but still choosing to stay
anyways.

and I know,
every time i will hold your face,
it will feel like i am holding treasure
caressing the jewels and golden riches
i don’t want to slip from my fingertips

when you rise in the morning,
i promise,
i will lay roses at your feet
and line the pathway to the door
with tulips

i will press a cup of english breakfast tea,
into your palms
and place a sweater around your shoulders,

i will wrap my arms around you
and guide you outside,
hold you close
as the holiday winds greet us

and i will press a kiss to your temple
and catch the tears that linger
on your eyelashes.

we will do it, my braveheart
we will survive a year.

and i will be so proud of you,
of us,
for making it through.

my love,
i had dreamt of you,
my entire life.

i wished for you
on every star,
11:11,
and dandelion puffs.

i worshipped you
in the prayers of my every poem.

i loved you
with the entirety of my existence
from the moment i found you.

i believe,
that the universe reoriented itself
to keep you at the center
and it was the first time
i had known peace
and belonging.

your departure from me,
would untether the planets
and misalign the galaxies.

your eventual absence
will catapult me
into the darkness.

i am a ghost
without a home to haunt

a heartbeat
without a chest to belong to.

i will know nothing
except for the loss of you.

i know it will consume everything
i will ever have known.

it will sound like a goodbye
and it will feel, alone.

so don't go,
don't ever go.

you are the ghost,
and i am now the home that you are haunting
to this day.

i am all empty and quiet,
the wreckage,
devoid of sunlight.

i still keep you
as if it serves a purpose

i am not hollow
if i nurture you,
if i allow you to linger
amidst the darkness.

there will be no healing,
no rebuilding.

i cannot make a home
out of a ruin.

but perhaps,
i can make a grave
and bury in it
all the memories of you i’ve saved
as if they were a lifeline
to the time
when you were still here,
and i was still there with you

and i can stay forever
with you

i took only a piece of your heart
and made a mess of things

and all that followed
was a wreckage

i had meant for us to heal
and instead,
i carved deeper wounds

please forgive me
for my transgressions.

i did not know how to love you,
i was even worse at losing you

darling, i didn't need you
but i ended up loving you more
than words could ever hope to hold

and that's when i lost you
but i’ll pen you as if my poetry
could salvage a piece of you
that i could somehow keep

and i am truly sorry
for everything i meant to do
but failed to accomplish,

like loving you
and keeping you
and writing you back home again

my darling, my sunshine
you are to me
what the rain does
to wilted things.

you pour unto my cracks
scour across my hollows
and you fill them instead
with a selfless abundance of love

how fragile I was
before meeting you,

how resilient i am becoming,
in order to keep you.

i am more tree now
than weedling,

more flower
than thorn.

i am beautiful
for loving you,
and for continuing to love you.

and i know
i will be stronger
for having you by my side.

my friend, i cannot promise,
nor guarantee you
that this life will ever get easier.

this world is a cruel, broken thing

when you fall to your knees,
she will not rise to stop you,
nor soften the impact.

if you press your forehead
to her ground,
sometimes she will roar
and start a riot.

she quakes in her agony
and rages in her fury
as she tears open the skies,

and you and i,
will weep for her
when everything falls apart.

i cannot stop the ending
that comes with heedless abandonment

i cannot alleviate the hurt
or heal what’s left of your heart

but I can promise i am here,
and i will be here.

for the pain
and the healing,

for the numbness
and the feeling,

i am here, my friend,

And you will never
have to suffer alone again.
you will never walk alone, again.

i asked you to be mine,
as a frail joke,
and you told me,
i knew the answer.
i did know the answer,
i just wanted to hear it from you,
even though i knew it would break me.
for you to want me,
but not give it to me.
it almost brought me to the brink of destruction.
how could the best person to have arrived in this gruesome life that we all lead,
be not allowed to be mine?
i tried to laugh it out,
to not be bothered by the circumstance
i am presented.
you told me to ask you again,
and i was puzzled.
why would you want to hurt me again?
but still,
i did.
and this time, you said yes.

i asked you to be mine,
and you said yes.

i will always need you
and want you.
i imagine lifetimes ago,
it was you,
and now that i've finally met you,
its still you.

and now
i’m afraid of you
of how much i love you
of how much you mean to me
because i’m afraid that you’ll get tired of me
or decide i’m too much to handle,
that you'll one day wake up and think,
i’m not worth it anymore
i’m afraid that you’ll realize
i don’t deserve you
that you can do better than settling for me
and even though i want you to be different
i’m afraid that you’ll end up like everyone else
that no matter how much i try to keep you,
i'm just not it for you.
i’m afraid that you’re the best thing to ever happen to me
and i’m so afraid of messing it up.

i finally met you,
i'm afraid of all there is about this.
i love you.

i know you think you are forgettable.
that you are what is left after all else is gone.

you are the moment that held on
for a little too long
before everything finally concluded.

you are the wound
that never mended
but perhaps,
during those times,
you healed just enough
to stop the bleeding
and stop the pain.

you are the fall
that never bloomed,
and never rose again.
the petals that never grew.

you are the girl
who loved,
and eventually lost.

the girl who did not matter enough
for her to remember your name.

maybe you are the same
as the dust motes in the dying light
with their fragile flight,
hopeless,
as they disappear.

you never quite belonged to where you are now.
so you feel, the place never reaches for you.

there is nothing this place,
and maybe she as well,
wants to keep from you,
and you are not permanent enough to be asked to stay.

not even your words can fight to be permanent,
and she will forget all the letters you've written.

but you've done what you can do,
and you've done it all too well.
you've made your own path,
even in a place overgrown.
you’ve changed the
morning and the
mountains for her.

you've done what you can do,
and you've done it all too well.
i'm sorry,
i'm sorry.

if you are to leave me,
my darling,
then do so.
leave.
escape.

do not close the door
on your way out.
leave it open.
let the world
pour in
so you can see the ruin,
you left in your wake.

let me hear the sounds on the outside
making noise
so i can drown out the ghosts
you've created,
who can no longer breathe your name.

open the window, my love
and allow the sunshine to seep through.
slowly touching and soothing
the shadows in every corner

please don't turn around.
don't you dare turn around.

i want this new existence
to begin
devoid of you.

you do not have the right to see
what is left of me
after you are gone.

i am at home in my grief.
i will breathe in
the spring breeze
and eventually the summer air
and allow new life to grow.

i am a lot stronger
than you will ever appreciate,
so please, walk away,
you do not get to see my fall.

no,
you do not deserve
any part of me,
at all.

if you are to leave,
my love,
then leave.

i will not be in despair,
and grieve
for long.
i swear,
i hope.

i know,
i know.
the weight of my soul
is much too heavy to hold.

my spirit sinks beneath my bones
as it pulls me down,
further,
deeper,
i drown,
i drown
i drown.

forgive me if my name comes with so much weight,
that perhaps it makes you hesitate
before you inhale,
and breathe.

and my darling dear, i mourn.
i grieve, every time my name leaves you weak,
fallen, and on your knees.

my heart was meant to love you,
but instead,
i hurt you.
and my ghost built a home in your head,
and destroyed whatever was left.

i regret it fully, my sweet,
oh how i regret it.

i was much too selfish
to set you free.
so i took you in my arms
and you drowned with me.

perhaps,
some people will never truly leave.
they'll always be inside of you,
crushing your bones
and
setting your very heart on fire
whilst their blood still courses through your veins
like kerosene.

my darling,
there is nothing
i can offer
but what's inside my hollow ribs --
a paper heart filled with words
so endless,
yet
so easily burns.

please,
don't go,
no,
not yet.
not just yet.

i still carry so many regrets,
so many things i have yet to confess.

my chest is still filled with buried apologies,
ones i meant to press
at the palm of your hands,
and into the hollows of your heart.

i meant to patch up whatever i broke,
tore apart and ultimately destroyed,
but in the end,
there was nothing i could do
to end the pain,
yours and mine.

since then i have not mustered the strength
to stand again,
when i had already fallen to my knees.

you once tried to reach me,
but i was irreparable,
i could not be saved.
i tried to let go of all the love
you once had for me
and now,
i've created ghosts from our memories.

you once tried to heal me from my sufferings,
but i only inflicted more wounds,
even on you.
i could not find a way to love you,
without wrecking everything.

in case you're wondering,
no,
i don't expect you to forgive me
i don't expect you to love me again.

but please,
don't go just yet.
i cling on to so many regrets still.

i am sorry, i am sorry,
i am sorry.

if you do decide to leave,
tread slowly, my love and my dear.

give me a chance and room to breathe,
before you walk away
for i do not know when i ever will again.

desolation comes in
with such heedless grace.
please,
allow me to memorize your face
one last time, before you turn away.

i won't ask you to stay this time,
but i'll ask you to hold on,
just for a moment,
one more moment,
before you're truly gone.

let me steal a souvenir,
a memory,
before i set you free.

with you,
so too goes my words,
my letters,
my poetry.

i am not ready to say goodbye.
i will never be ready to say goodbye.

but oh,
even the ink has to dry.

little by little
i saw your fire dying.
i kept looking at your direction,
kept igniting myself,
whilst i ignored the fact that you voluntarily allowed yourself
to cool down,
and be doused.

what happened to our fire, baby?
you told me you'd love me not until the stars die,
but until they fade into nothing but darkness.
a scenario that wasn't going to happen,
not in our lifetime anyway.
but here i am, my hearth and my love,
still burning so feverishly for you.
whilst yours died,
reduced to ashes,
blown away.


tell me,
what happened to our fire, baby?

my friend,
you belong to the sun, I say.
come to the light,
and bask in the goodness of life
in all its beauty and colors.

but you stay in your corner,
and tell me,
but I cannot outgrow my suffering

you could not hold love
without destroying it,
piece by piece
attacking it at its wake .

you tell me you are nothing without your despair
you are at home in the wreckage
and that perhaps,
you belong in all the messes you have made.

your peace only comes when your memory starts to fade,
and the ghosts of your past return to their graves.

you've never seen yourself as someone that could be saved,
for you have surrendered yourself
and have fallen on your knees, arms to your side
begging to be taken away.

you tell me to understand when you say,
there is nothing worth fighting for left in me

and i do, my friend.

i know you struggle to tell yourself that you belong in the sun,
in the light, and deserve all the good things in life

but i also know you do not feel at home in the garden.
you are their loss,
you belong in the wilting.