"We became everything we said we would never be."
What a cliché saying.
But those nine simple words hold more truth than our relationship ever did.

Hi,

You've already forgot my name,
but I'm selling something!!!
I don't know how it works, but
It's really great!
It'll rock your world,
change the game,
and make you rich.
You'd be crazy not to try it!!

Plus what I'm selling
is better than what he's selling.
Why? Cause I care about you.
He doesn't care about you —
he just cares about money.
Buy what I'm selling
and you'll see the difference.

Trust me. I'm your guy
and you NEED
what I'm selling.
It would be a great fit.
And once you have it
you'll never
have to imagine
yourself without it
again.

You know, I'm pretty sure
I could watch you for just a minute,
     the most fleeting of moments,
and find a hundred reasons more
     to fall in love with you.
I catch myself staring all too often,
eyes tracing over your features
as I try to understand,
     even just a little bit,
this spell you have over me.
I'm not speaking of swooning
     over the curvature of your clavicles
or tumbling down into the depths
     of your green eyes.
Though if I'm honest,
     I love all those cliché things too.
                                                                 No, baby, you see,
                                                                        I've fallen quite madly,
                                                                             for you, wholly,
                                                                                  mind,
                                                                                      heart,
                                                                                           and spirit.
                                                                 It is the very essence of you
                                                                     that causes my ardent adoration.

She danced with death.
At times they would wait on opposite sides of the room,
Stealing glances of each other around the other guests.
At others, they would stand so close
Their breath intermingled like the winds in the trees.
They held each other gently,
Both afraid to hold too hard
And have the other shatter into scattered fragments.
They would twirl and sidestep gracefully,
Making others yearn to watch
Yet afraid to do so, for doing so
Might upset the magical balance they’d set up.
And so the two dance on—
Waltzes, tangos, ballets,
Separating briefly to catch their breath
And to let the tension build from across the room.

i can never really organize my thoughts,
so much to the point that
at one moment
i might be thinking that nothing could be worse
than it already is,
but at the next,
i might be admiring the beauty of life,
and how everything is grand,
and how i can almost see the sparkles that emerge from the stardust in your veins.

i can never really stick to one thing,
so much to the point that,
at one moment
i might be writing lines of poetry about veins brimming with stardust,
but at the next,
i may be considering what an utter cliché
that line is.

i can never really make up my mind,
so much to the point that,
at one moment
i might be intent on the idea that stardust as a whole
is a cliché, cliché, cliché,
but at the next,
i may not care at all.

who gives a ****?

it's not about what's cliché and what's not.

it's simply about the thoughts,
the words,
the beauty.

all at once.

but the problem with me is,
i can never really organize my thoughts,
so much to the point that
at one moment
i might be pouring my thoughts into this poem,
but at the next,
my mind might be frozen.
e m p t y .
bare.

sometimes my mind
doesn't like to cooperate.
but as of now,
it is.

and i've decided
that stardust
is a total cliché.

i do not doubt, though,
that it is one hell of a beautiful cliché,
perhaps much like my mind.

(a.m.)

Girl, do you want a bad boy?
Warning:
if you can't handle the heat,
get off the stove.

Know them:
Bad boys are bad
not there to put up some suave show
they do bad stuff with ill intentions
not just some petty mean stuff.

Identify them:
They may not even look like one
cue the handsome look
they may even act like angels
it's really hard
differentiating them
from their goody two shoes counterpart.
How i find one when there's no archetypal look??

Game plan and execution:
1. Do something to blend in,
   not asking you to dabble in crime.
2. Make them feel at ease with you
If you're hot, you can opt to skip to step 2. You can be rest assured you won't blend in like the normal plebeians.


     So open your eyes wide
you might strike the lottery!
  if you're (un)lucky you may score one
          real bad ***.
Good luck in your pursuit.

P.S: They are not a species near extinction.

It is a growing issue
that the amount of metaphors
never used before by the hand of man
is decreasing significantly
and needs to be addressed soon
because the number of poets appearing
out of nowhere
is increasing exponentially
because we all want to
compare our love to the wind
forever competing
for self entitled originality
and instant gratification
until all we have left in this world
is cliche
after cliche
after cliche.
Where will we find ourselves
when we find out
all the words are taken?