In my world
Your absence is an offensive crime
As my heart is under arrest
And only your presence can bail me out

Our last day together, we’ll sit
at the edge of your car,
right above the hood,
overlooking the night sky in the empty
Walmart parking lot.

You don’t know it,
but a year from now, we’ll be torn apart.
We might not see each other again—
not even at all.

But that same night, we’ll recall
old memories from the past,
lingering in our minds
for the longest time.

We’ll laugh at the time we both got
in trouble for breaking the clock.
We’ll smile at the time
we tried to cook
but ended up burning the food.
We might cry the moment
we have to say goodbye.

Just know, every moment since birth…
it has always been you.
I know how much you cared…
just know I did too,
even if I didn’t show it as much as you.

From the moment I took my first breath
to the day I’ll take my last…
you were always my twin at heart,
not just in mind.

Love you,
in every universe
and in all
timelines.

I hope distance doesn’t make us strangers,
but if it does,
I’ll be happy with the fact
I once got to know YOU.
Even if it was for a limited time.

To be loved like a poem not a song.

With carefully picked out words,
thoughtful actions.

Not a fast rhythm,
but a slow gentle pace.

Maybe some people prefer that swifter pace,
with straightforward love.
However,
there is such an elegance
to the complexity
of slowness and quietness.

There’s a sort of peace that comes with
patience.

…

Love doesn’t have to be hidden,
but it isn’t also meant to be announced like a firework or wildfire.

I don’t need an instagram bio to make it “official”.
No need to publish anything,
or make a big debut to label it
as “real”.

Not because I am ashamed of being in love,
quite the opposite.
I care about it too deeply
to let it get ruined by the toxicity of people.

I also don’t think love should have to fit in a mold.
It doesn’t need to be the typical online love we see on our screens daily.
Understanding that each person loves differently
can bring together distinct personalities.

Maybe it just needs time.
The right soil
to grow.

Walking down the lane, I saw—
A withered stem, struggling to grow.
Amidst the dust, I took it,
And gave it to a child, as I deemed fit.

It's been weeks since that normal day.
I went out and heard them say,
A fragrant flower has bloomed.
I followed and found what loomed.

The stem I'd found, now grew with dignity,
It found its place and a gardener,
Who nurtured it with benignity.
Through storms and wind, it now stood brave,
No longer in future would it now fall or cave.

I am the afterthought.
Not the friend they call just to talk,
Not the person they’re excited to see,
Not the thought that lingers when the room is empty.

Am I at least almost?
Almost important, almost wanted,
Close enough to matter,
But never enough to stay.

People care, in passing.
A kind word, a fleeting thought,
But never the one they miss,
Never the one they need.

I wonder what it’s like to be chosen,
To be the one someone can’t bear to lose.
But I am only here when it’s convenient,
A placeholder,
A second choice,
A name they forget until they need something.

The Redhead Beauty
That i know from across the street
loves pink flowers
and giving stray cats a treat
Her hair is like cotton candy
and her smell is sweet
i wish i had feelings for her
i wish that i cared
at least i hope she's feeling something
not like me in despair
i hope she takes care
of her red beautiful hair
the redhead beauty
loves ice cream