it's complicated
i tell her
as i grip on to
the same coffee cup
i've been drinking from
for 2 weeks straight
because i wake up tired
because i don't sleep
because it's not complicated
that you just don't love me

I love you like I love fish
I catch it in the open ocean
Bring it to kitchen
And cook it with such devotion
Then eat it with pleasure with no end

Though it sounds wrong to love fish
By killing it
By boiling it
putting seasoning on it
And swallow bit of pieces of it

So, I can't say I love you like I love fish
"I love eating fish" would be better to say
Though I realize its egotistic
That I indulge myself eating fish everyday
What about the fish that I picked?

The fish that I picked have feelings too
Did I ever asked for its feelings?
I need to feel the fish
feel the fins that clings
And try to fulfill its wish

Blub blub it says
Blub blub it cries
Blub blub I reply
Blub blub till the morning rise
Blub blub don't know why

It came to a point
where I don't know what to do
To The fish I'm holding
What should I do
To the fish I'm not eating?

I will tell you
We shared an amazing moment
On the open, sea the fish and I
On this ship event
Saw eye to eye

The eye that stared back
Never once blink
Tears filled in my eyes
And there's no more time to think
The calm weather cries

I put the fish back to the ocean
Its body waddled about
I slowly looked away
And tried not to look back without a doubt
It was a very emotional day.

Overcomplicate me.

Make
Mountains
Out of my dust.
When I inevitably go,
Don't let me
Go easily.

This planet can trek around its star a thousand times
And this will always be true:
I didn’t ask for you, I didn’t pray
I’m not asking for anybody else to save the day,
But I may have to settle for somebody else.
I’m not asking as a favor, I’m not asking the universe,
“Can I have this one thing? This is all I ask.”
One doesn’t ask for something that’s a given.
It’s more productive to say,
“Where are they?
Can I have a clue?”

I wasn’t expecting to find you.
Likewise, I wasn’t expecting to find
so many of you, and I wasn’t expecting
to throw one of you away.
I’m not expecting to find somebody else,
Nor do I think I never will.
Mother Earth will complete her journey
at least fifty times more in my lifetime,
and I may never be able to steal
that profoundly steady heart
from your high-security prison.
I’m not predicting our fate--
the stars are just gas,
the universe just organized chaos--
I’m just saying I might have to find somebody else.

The milky way doesn’t know
of its own existence,
a cat doesn’t know of the sentience
we’ve given it. In almost the same way,
we don’t know who we are.
We are opinion, and opinion is relative
My magnificence isn’t relevant to you.
I’m something to admire from a distance--
apparently too chaotic
to see all the details up close.

I don’t remember what I thought of you
when we first met; all I know is
I like holding your hand
whether I want to or not.
Interpret that you want.

Your eyes are like supernovas
When certain lights hit them
Once they caught my attention.
I was a photographer for the National Geographic
capturing a solar eclipse, a comet, a meteor shower
every time you talked about something you loved.
An ash cloud from an excited volcano,
your eyes made a natural disaster of my heart.
Except, well,
it turns out everybody’s eyes are like that.

The year of HD colours
and endless mind-
rewiring sessions

I blink once, twice
hold my breath
zone out
slip to the nearest galaxy

I look
again
and still
you're

a Black & White complication
thousands miles away from
a grey and colour palette situation

Relived
it's a wrap
between the lines I drowned
sometimes I laughed
many others I cried
you were heavy to carry around
you weren't even mine

Today I read the last few lines
to relaize there is
an ending to every beginning

So the last page I turned
and the borrowed Book
I returned

We smile into our text messages after planning a day to see each other. My fingers hovering over my phone in quiet hesitation. Any misplaced word could demolish the delicate balance we have established, "I can't wait to see you," I type. Anxious at his reply, wondering if I stepped too far over the line, I wait. I stare at the three dots, the endless three dots. Finally, I get his reply after about ten minutes, "Yeah, me too." I know, his fingers lingered too. He is afraid of throwing us off kilter too. Of making things messy. Of risking what we have so carefully built for just a single misstep of feelings.

It is hard to be just friends with someone you are in love with.