i've heard of leaving pieces of your soul
at places, with people, in memories and in hopes
and i think i did leave a quiet few of my own.
just a day ago, i left a few pieces of my soul
up there, when we began the trip—
went to a place that resembled a heavenly dip.

i wasn't alone, with two certain someones i'd grown
to like, in a while—
and no, let's just keep it romanticized.
we'd walked throughout the destination,
it wasn't our final,
and i'm sure they'd see through the above line
to find the name of the movie we'd watched together.

the walk, the talk, the silence, the show—
entirety of it, i just wondered one thing:
will i forget this,
or will it be engraved
by the time it's night and i move to a  new tomorrow?

the car rides,
to the movies,
the desi rickshaw and the tell-tale sign of a bonding—
i don't know if we're close enough.
surely they are—i admire them so.
didn't get it filmed for way too many reasons,
but i wish i'd done them both:
recorded the way they were,
just existing, unknown to the storm here within.

while one thought, the other said.
while one fumbled, the other bled—
out words and emotions,
way too direct
for someone like me,
who chokes on a mere breath.

if it were possible to engrave it to their souls,
tell them how till the end—
i only hoped.

we'd eaten,
and it didn’t feel the way it does with people
i'm new with.
i wonder if they felt it too.
it was more than just fun or something worth remembering.
so much more.

and that thunderstorm—
the way the dust carried through the winds,
and then i saw the sky burst
into a million little streams of light and of thunder.

the rain fell, and it lingered—
the feeling to cherish,
to live,
to breathe,
and to exist—
in that very moment.
to open my heart
and pour out all the blood it carried,
to open up and let the world consume—
as i lay down and relished
all that took place around me:
their voices,
their laughter,
the dreams i had
once i was in a disaster.

i've only wanted to perish away before,
to hide,
to be thrown in a current so deep,
i need not float anymore.

and yet, somehow i found
something akin to glitter
underneath my skin—
as we dashed through the wet steps of the temple,
barefoot,
each pair of eyes shadowing a glimmer.

and as i wished in front of all the lords,
"i do not know how to do this—
i haven’t trusted you enough in a while,
but i'll just ask,
like the greedy little thing i am—
keep the ones around me happy and safe,
and i shall accept you,
and want for you again."

and i had tears gathering in my eyes.
for a second, i thought i'd cry.
"please don't make me speak."
but they did.
and the tears got replaced by a smile.

i've smiled a lot,
in their company.
i don't know—
all the way back,
a smile that seemed to last.

and we settled outside the temple,
sitting,
breathing in—
i watched them.
watched the way their eyes swam,
watched the way the sky held
all those streaks resembling the roots of a tree.
and i realized,
my roots now went too deep—
and i couldn't move,
couldn't speak.
wanted to say so much,
but i held it all within me.

there was a lot that i felt in the moment.
as the wind grazed my skin,
felt its caress leave a warmth at my feet—
"oh, but i love you so."

too protected to be seen as vulnerable,
couldn't hold it as well as i usually handled—
it must have shown,
the silence that i got on.

we walked through a route,
a secret garden
resembling the world of nowhere—
and for the first time that night,
i didn’t want it to end.

we talked,
i heard mostly—
all i had to share was how disintegrated i was.
(please hold me.)
didn't say a word along those lines.
the newly found hope had me positive,
and i let it cover me whole.

forgot to test out the theory
of whether "do shadows turn darker when they overlap?"
a line from a favourite movie.
oh, it was a perfect day.
how i wish i had more of that.

sitting, breathing in the moment,
walking beside,
behind,
in between—
i loved all that.

i don't think i'll persist in their memory
(lord, i wish i do).
for they're stuck in mine,
and i can't seem to move on.

and yeah, this is kind of a confession,
but no, it isn't that of love.
i barely know what love is,
but i want to,
just because.

heard this man say,
"you live only for four days—"
the fifth, he asked from beside.
i looked at him,
and then at the one who was in front of me.
didn’t see his expression,
but i know he'd gotten hit too.

"the fifth is for the lord.
the world loves you,
and there's nothing that you can grip onto."

but how do i accept it,
when it's all i've been searching?
in the middle of an ocean,
i didn’t even realize i was floating.

the chains seemed heavy,
pulling down in that second—
yet i didn't let go of that invisible string.
let the man say,
"there's nothing from people.
you come, and you leave.
if you've got money,
they talk and they preach."

what of hope?
and what if trusting you is my choice—
keeping it is yours?
what of love,
and what of bonds?
i’ll take those to my grave.

please keep away the suffering of the world,
and i'll rest indefinitely,
despite what's at stake.

the car ride back was enlightening—
it was so dark,
the air conditioning turned off.
i sat in the front,
listening to music they played from the back.
heard them laugh,
smiled to myself.

looked out the window
and hoped perhaps the wind would carry me now.
i felt so light,
so heavy at the same time—
the irony,
the metaphor i can't admit.
i like being tangled in words.

second time,
i didn’t want it to end.
and he said so,
and i know the thought so.

from listening to music that spoke
more than the tunes did,
i looked all around,
taking the beauty of destruction after the storm—
and hoping perhaps that they will too.

could we enter a time loop
and have the day play out on repeat
for the rest of my life
and forever, if more?

near to my place, i got out.
missed out their words yet again.
wanted to say,
"love you, take care—see you both—let's do this again."
said,
"enjoy, don't die, good night and sweet dreams" yet again.

and i walked the length back to my apartment.
saw the dark—
it felt like comfort,
reminding me this was my place
in the world.

it's my pov,
the third person in the room
floating somewhere,
watching it all take place in a loop.

i didn't want the night to end.
but it did.

and so here i am,
sitting the next day with tears in my eyes,
holding this newly found attachment
to life and a certain few—
about whom i ain't so certain
whether they'll hold in the long run.

but here i am once again,
hoping there'd be a repeat.

because i did comment to his,
"what if this is the last time like this?"
and i said,
"the next one will be better then."
can’t say i believed in it much myself,
but i'll keep hoping—

because hope and love can't be killed.
love comes easier than hate.
the former, we're born with;
the second is fed.

hope comes from love,
and i just love to hope
and hope to love.
so i hope you do too—

something better,
something in the future,
something—
even just once more.

maybe it'll be a repeat of the day yesterday,
or even a better one
to remember the day after.


i couldn't bleed out to death
to prove the amount of laughter
i've carried etched in my skin.
i've got it crawling up my shins,
couldn't admit till the very end—
i left a piece of my soul,
perhaps a few more.
up there, everywhere,
all all the places i'd gone to.
but especially,
the highlights of it all—
with them,
both.

i didn't really want the night to end,
at least, it seems so after all.

At mercy's feet a coward came
Revoke the spell that brand me shame
Immortal cloak, With cold embrace
Preserve this soul unlinked from grace

Confess thy struggles says the thought
A thousand deeds undo no drought
To wash thy guilt complete with haste
Anoint with almond, pray no waste

(Urge)
A past repeat, if time recall
Invoking every shameful fall
Controlled by lust, my handy deeds
deny this groin, its pleasure needs

(Thought)
Your reckon day, awaits its fate
To settle heaven's pass at gate
by night, an hour of death will prey
it's waste of time to weep and pray

Everyone thinks I’m an idiot.
Even me.

My friends think I’m funny
but not smart,
not sharp.

I got a certificate to belay while rock climbing
just so I could be like my friends,
but Ryan wouldn’t let me belay him.

Claire thinks I’m not good enough
to teach others how to climb.

Mira told me,
“you’re the last person I thought would know the answer,”
while we were studying for a final.

I felt unsteady afterward,
like I was winded.

My mood sank fast.
There was a pressure in my abdomen -
like I had to take a ****
but I was holding it in.

And on the same note,
I wanted to run
away,
out of sight,
so I could **** in peace.

But instead,
I laughed it off
and smoked cigarettes on the porch
when I got home
because I’m too stupid
to read the label.

I am convinced by my own actions, too
although I can’t decide
if it’s my forgetful brain
or just my personality:
aloof,
head in the clouds.

I remember walking through the halls of high school,
friends passing by, trying to get my attention
but I was staring at the ceiling again,
at the scattered marks, how they had no pattern,
and how that somehow made me uncomfortable.

Either way,
the stupidity sticks.

I wore apathy like armor
but cracked every time you looked at me
like I was worth being seen.

Even now I blamed timing.
As if clocks are crueler than my own hesitation.
As if love didn’t stand right in front of me
and wait with open hands
as mine stayed tucked in pockets.

I convinced myself I was unworthy
before anyone else had the chance to.
I set fire to every almost
just to say “see, it was never going to last”
like that made it less my fault.

Still, I write this like it matters—
like this confession changes anything.
But all it does
is remind me
that I had everything
and still chose nothing.

you, serendipity
i didn't expect you
but you're the best birthday gift i've received all year
and mind you, my birthday's a long time from now.

i didn't know you've waited
since middle school, for this to all work out
but i'm glad you did
so glad you did

we officially met...maybe a week ago when you confessed
so then why do you make me feel like the one having the crush?
so many things i won't understand
but so many things i hope we'll figure out together, levi.

there was never enough paper
never enough books
the pens contained me
the key clicks asked to trace back too much
the paint had its own stories too
the dance was too visceral
the film was incoherent
and so i lived and died into them all
the masterful rebellion

and then your skin, when it was my paper
my canvas, my strings, my music
every flinch and gasp and breath was like art complete

You smell like summer
You taste like moon
Till my eyes opened
It's almost june

You hunt like runner
You run like rust
Till my skin
Turns to dust

So call me drunk
Three am
I will pick up
What a Shame
Then I'll cry
Whom to blame?

I lost my way
As ocean stray
May locate stars
But as it rains
All my metaphors
Slips away
Whom to blame?

some days i mourn the death of stars,
some days i forget to mourn the dreams i massacred
both days i tell you nothing about it

somedays i mourn the death of stars,
some days i forget to mourn the dreams i massacred

both days i know i can tell no one anything about it
and i didn’t, but it seems like the end

so what if i erupted out all my infections.