they say
love cannot be measured
with money;
nor can you put
a price on it;
yet it feels so cheap
when you fall out of it

don't love me for my nice;
love me for my ugly

love me when I transform
into a monster
with the power to
drown everyone with
my tears

love me when I have
claws as my tongue,
even when the words I say
might stab your heart

love me when I lose control,
and start staring at you
with my crazy eyes;
the kind you experience
when hurt is in your sight

I wasn't ugly before;
rather my nice couldn't
mask itself any longer,
and decides that it is best
to let loose by destroying itself,
leaving room for nothing else
but whatever niceness that's left.

I didn't realise
it was temporary,
or perhaps it was
always sympathy;
either way
our love was unhealthy,
and my heart is now
left empty

she said
I should suppress
my feelings for now
and she is right;

deep down I'm just
too tired to fight;
sometimes I find myself
walking further from the light;
and for that I feel like
my life can never be bright

the memories of us
induced my insomnia,
and the tears on my pillow
became my sleeping pills

the truth is I can do
a thousand and one things
with him,
that reminds me of you,
but he's just not you

I wish I wasn't the one
you wanted to see change;
I wish I wasn't the one
who'll change herself for love;
I wish I wasn't the one
with the feelings you
don't love;
I wish I wasn't the one
for you

I can't afford to
hurt myself anymore;

my heart shatters
into tiny shards
each time it breaks;
and I've lost
too many pieces
to mend it again

my heart
no longer has a place
in my body;
it always chooses
to come and go
to find love
with pain

I've spent hours
waiting for it to
skip back in glee;
but my heart
always returns
with nothing but
sad, sad memories

when my
heart breaks,
my soul does too;
and I can only afford
to lose one,
but not two

I learned
why clouds
sometimes rain
on sunny days;

it's hiding
sunbeams that light
the days away;
because when people
get too comfortable
with warmth,
they'll forget
thunderstorms exist

not only did you break my heart,
but also my writer's block;
let this help me tell our stories
in the form of scattered poetries

How can it be a white Christmas,
when my feelings is blue,
And my eyes,
all red from the crying;
the room emits sombre greyness
just because you're not here ,
to tell me how pure today is