He wanted me
To keep loving him
Even though
It's against my will

So I kept
Forcing the thrill
In the concept
Of a wounding scheme

I told myself not to think about you again
I waited this long for my heart to mend
But when your eyes charr into mine
I fall
   fall
     fall—
treacherous.

And I fall
    fall
       fall—
precarious.

And i fall and fall and fall and—
I choose to be perilous
I choose to be hurt
I choose our love, incredulous
And I opt for the painful curt

I love science
But I wish I still wondered
why the sky is blue

I adore silence
but i wish innocence
can still be heard

In the serenity
I didn't choose
In the questions
i was forced to conclude

I write a song for you
So you could sing it for her
I pour a poem for you
So she would feel like the stars and oceans and thorns and thunder and earth and sunrays and moonlight and rivers and wind

What you ask me to do
My heart the ink
Of the prose you'll give
From me to her.

Indescribable, once again

The storm and monsoons and trade winds and fall and winter and summer and rain and rain drops and atomic theory and i

All at once
Beautiful and powerful and hurtful

All at once
Lovely, serendipity, a mix of desire

All at once
All the words

Give it to her, recite my scribbles destined for you

Give it to her, the envelope concealed along with my hidden feelings for you

Give it
All to her
Be happy,
be
     with
            her

Let her read
Let her savour
Let her love the words
That describe where I revolve

My forests my snowflakes the beams of the sun and the sun itself and typhoons that break people and the ineffable entirely

All the beauty in the world that illuminate you

sparkles and laces and all sorts of frills, my nail polish is still on and it all felt surreal.
i cannot suppress the way it felt to have my dress
perfect for me
like how the night would be.
for i've never felt this beautiful as the hairspray made everything fall into place, and the makeup that perked me up with whatever i would face,
through the night of waltz and dances and prances,
the music and flow as he froze me in trances.
someone, i can't believe, could tell you how wonderful you look tonight
just by seeing his eyes focused on you as if you are
the solely contrast in the one canvas where everyone is beautiful.
he will look at everyone but then not for long just to come back to you

Our souvenirs.
In a little box I've stowed—
a secluded veneer.
A lot of times you bestowed
The prettiest things.
A deck of just kings,
Lilac seeds.
An anklet
not a ring
with rolled paper
as beads.
A painted sycamore tree
and a carved partridge.
A butterfly, unfree
and a rusty London bridge.
Many more, I have burnt
A simple jewelry box,
a medical syringe.
A vintage, whimsical clock,
ripped pages, a stockage.
But this last one, I gave away
It wasn't mine for a keepsake.
The most special,
an epilogue; crucial—
the last smiling
photograph of us.
the last reeling
scene of us.
It was candid
it was real.
But look at what you've done.
Look at how all these objects—
merely flashes and ashes—
are perpetually gone.
Look at how you never
talked about leaving
but did anyway.

A shy, quiet girl inherits all her grandmother's vintage belongings. "Amelia," whispered the thinning, cracked lips of a loving woman. "My lovely girl. Have all my finery and jewels, for I've always known you're an old soul. Show them the other side of you. Get yourself out." Before Amelia repels, Lady's hand loosens against Amelia's grip.
This memory looms in her dreams, awake or not. She grows into an elegant woman, rich and not easy to touch, lonely and a doll. People adore her, but only her vintages and fashion.
Grandmother, she thought. I am in a trunk of old riches, but I have no one. Would I die an old soul by myself?
Maybe Lady's last words didn't mean she should've been born before 21st. Not even close. Perhaps it wasn't because of her taste of jazz and frills and laces and pearls and Audrey.
Maybe all this time, it wasn't meant as a praise. All the while her grandmother could see, even before: she would die an old soul, alone and no one to cry on her grave. A little luxury might make her feel better.
Dearest grandmother, nothing did.
Dearest Amelia, all I wanted was for you to step out.

Dearest grandmother, they only liked my facades.

Heights.
I used to be scared of heights, Tarver.
But when I'm with you,
I happen not to be.
I must have gotten used to your presence—
it lifts me up to the skies.
It must have been the meaning of safeness,
   security
     precisely defined in your arms.
It must have been our hands,
perfectly clasped like two human hearts stitched by a destructive surgeon.
Fingers that walked with me
in the zenith of all mountains
the cliff by the streets
the bay walk's beam
and every single ledge we wandered on,
where you
didn't
hold aback
to watch me fall.
So Tarver, I didn't fall for you.
It seems like you were the one
who did that for me.

Your eyes aren't the stars for me
But instead they're earth
Because I find life in them

I can show thee that you are the waters
Flowing freely of war and hunger
The seabeds emerging
as your swords begin to puncture
Into my skin, my breath, my sonic cries of death

I can show thee that you are fire
Cunning, burning, my mind's desire
Fervently aflame as you place me to shame
The heart taking space where my mind hesitates

I can show thee that you're everything combined
All the elements of danger together inclined
To break me while you pray for your powers to imply
Every force willing to take my blood and life

I can show thee that you aren't for me
Far too atrocious, knives for the ****
Shelves of metal and red-soaked silk
Hearts embedded with talons of guilt

Slow down, make time to see me
Carry, all that i gave you
Today
we ruin the weak ropes
that tied us together
to wound us forever.
This time
September, remember
The cold, we dissever
admit that i'd rather
break what we discovered

Cut the ropes
I'll watch you go
Snip the pieces
and let me throw
All the biggest
mistakes that we
should have mowed
awhile ago

Myriad of stars
are brighter. But still I find
this beauty in you

take me to rurality
no boundaries
when it comes to
the nature of reality.
take impressive—
yet not excessive—
pictures of what you see
we're to feel home anywhere
because it's you and me.
take me to rurality
we smile before
we're back to normality.
we'll be there ashore
overboard, we'll adore
the strangest things.
until our personal judgement
of what beauty is
wouldn't be
how is used to be.

perhaps you see these simple things
words beneath, trapped mysteries
maybe if you just dug deeper
instead of watching me wither
instead of sighting me drowning
instead of catching me smiling
instead
  instead
    instead
maybe someday ahead
you will realize i was trying
and rather i was weeping

I wish you were like verbs
Not just promising words but acting upon them too

Give back the time when I was longing for someone truthful.
Not a liar to pretend
that's everything's better.

Sadness, sadness
how lovely it is for you
to make happiness
realize
that you're a blessing too