These words are just a continuation of one long poem that shows no signs of concluding any time soon, another similar entry into this diary that has an unfathomable amount of pages. If only the subject matter was ever positive, I wouldn't mind reading these repetitive entries every single day. If only my poetry was beautiful then this absurdly long poem which I live through would be a pleasant read instead.
we were body to body my head on your chest was my favourite hobby until it went cold like hockey how can something so intimate turn into just another thing? another place, another time another day I write my feelings inside the colourful pages of my diary wake up after dreaming of you with anxiety my passion is fiery but the coals are growing cold your hands I cannot even imagine anymore your touch cannot activate me anymore we cannot restore what we had before sure we were body to body and my head on your chest was my favourite hobby but I deserve more, I cannot settle we were golden but now there's rust in the metal
The light of the bank makes me think I'm out of money why is it so bright the light of this consignment shop the glow of the shampoo room surprisingly reddish street lights are okay a little blankly and silly car lights are too bright speeding in the night too much lights i can't read them all i look up half a moonlight indistinct the rift between something and nothing moonlight tumbling from high places sprinkled on rice stubble and haystack on river water and mulberry tree on the secluded dirt road there's something hauled into someone's dreamland.
Some say little memories die soon So I kept a little diary with me But recently I burned it For you became the bookmarks of my life Some say little memories die soon But I remember these 20 days I've spent with you
From seeing you in my cashmere dreams To in real life in front my weaving eyes Little do you know, I write poems about you ‘’Sagittarius’’ as I called you Now on the tongues of your friends A love story never told But nothing changed between us I felt so lonely being alone with you
Where’s my darling on phone? Where’s my darling on the paper? I hear your name out of the mouths Of these men, such popularity Your own friends became your paparazzi In this city never sleeping yet always dreaming You were the only I could hear and see Expectedly you became my swivel
I judged my day, by how you talked to me that is If you talked for such a loud one in your twenties, with me; you are silent as little flame on the wick leafless branches swaying in the wind
How much changed in these days Expectations hurt, so I kept them low Yet I am still in agony How little changed in these days Now I am back in my room Still writing about you
That year we met watching you smile from afar i dared not look back that month we started getting used to texting on a daily basis exchanging stories and banters encouraging each other to go through things we had to go through that day you said out of the blue you decided to stop talking to me cold turkey i could not that night i saw some of ourselves in some Makoto Shinkai movies you and i we could not go back it seemed that moment i let it happen you and i became sudden strangers.