this life tells me i have never known you before,
but your face is already an image i have seen,
your voice is a resounding song in my head,
your speech and your thoughts feel so familiar
as if i have already spent time talking to you
until the wee hours of the morning,
and our thoughts seem to connect and weave into fabric
as warm as the blankets that cover me at night.

it is strange, isn't it?
the way a stranger could feel so familiar?
i do not know why,
but i believe that we have met at some point in the past,
perhaps we already knew each other
when we were living previous lives
we cannot call ours at present.

but whether it is fate or coincidence,
i am glad our paths have crossed again.

I let my hair grow long
until it's brown and thick
we're sitting on the floor
wine on our lips
the records playing
we're both getting lost
you've become so bored
of the place you once called home

you no longer smile
when you see the city you once loved
there's not as much comfort in the shades of blue
little do you know they're all shades of you
i wish i could get lost in your shades of blue
i just want to get lost in you

you're becoming bored of yourself
and the places you used to go
I wonder when you will get bored of me
and my hands you liked to hold
or the shades of blue in myself
i tried to hide
but they couldn’t help showing the times i  held you
when you cried

i don’t want to admit it
but i know you will go
because with people like me
what is there to love?

I’m just this crumbling sidewalk
you avoid on your morning commute
i’m the car in the junkyard
with bullet holes
my arms are rusted shut
but i will still reach for you
after it all

i’m not sick of your shades of blue
when i wake up to the curves of you
in the morning
the familiarity does not bore me,
it comforts me.
but it’s not like that with everyone
i get bored easily sometimes
but not with you.
my favorite city remains my favorite.
no matter how much I'm in it
I want to see the shades of blue
every day,
in your eyes, in your hair, in your lips, in your arms
I want to get lost in you with every step I take
on my crumbling sidewalk soul
These roads lead to you,
Always.

I like you because you are inked with the pain of the past, and while the past (a lot like a tattoo) is something that can't be erased you never stop trying to scrub it off of your skin. When I'm in your presence I can feel the butterflies that once resided in the deepest pit of my stomach trying to claw their way out of my throat. You are a wildfire and should never tell yourself otherwise. I would pay all the money in the world to sit in your lap and listen to your entire life story (start to finish). I know you think me falling asleep on the phone every night before you're even tired is me being uninterested but I fall asleep because you're a beautiful lullaby singing me to sleep with no words. I want to help you find a way to disregard the darkness that clouds your mind and retain all the light there is in the world because you deserve it. I do like the idea of you. But more so I like the idea of us. Of what we could be once I'm released from these shackles I call parents. I like the idea of how happy you could be. Of how just a tad bit of light could change your life. That day in your room watching A Nightmare Before Christmas you kissed me and it sent ripples through my skin and it scared the hell out of me because it made my feelings even stronger. I like the fact that I'm able to get upset with you and let you know when you've upset me because trust me that takes extremes comfort. You arrived in my life in the summer. An entity from thin air only visible to my eyes, and for some reason you've chosen to stay.

familiarity is
knowing exactly where you are
just by looking at the tops of passing trees

familiarity is also
knowing every line and crack in his lips
even in the dark

Our favourite diner
closed its doors two years ago
we can no longer walk in from the cold
feeling the warmth of syrup and coffee cups

Our favourite diner
closed its doors two years ago
and that server we liked so much
we haven't seen him since
and no where else has real carnations
in milk glass vases on every enamel table

Our favourite diner
closed its doors two years ago
it smelled like a Church basement,
felt like my uncle's house
and it was our place, it was what we did

Our favourite diner
closed its doors two years ago
and so we stopped going out for brunch
on Saturdays
we made new traditions
but they were never as good
And we both knew it

Our favourite diner
closed its door two years ago
and so did we.

I feel the breeze brush my skin.
I feel nostalgia begin.
And I just want to sit awhile
And let it all sink in.

Sit here with me
Under the shade of this oak tree,
Whose branches we would climb
When we were younger,
Long before we lost the hunger
To go beyond the world we knew.
So what do you say
We pass away the afternoon
Just staring up at the sky?
Finding pictures in the clouds
As they go passing  by.

We can talk of days long gone,
The things we've done,
The roads we're on
And people we use to know.
Discuss all the little things:
Family, friends and enemies,
And see where the stories go.
We can let the day fade
As we sit within the shade.

I can feel the night time cold.
On my memories it pulls.
And the familiarity
Has got me feeling old.

Lean against the bark with me,
Where we once carved our names for all to see.
Etchings that have long since faded
Through the battering storms.
The same clashes and bashes and lighting flashes
That left us all weathered and worn.
We can name the constellations
That our memories still retain,
And make up our own
For all the stars that still remain.

Let's discuss the existential questions:
The meaning of it all.
Embrace the cluelessness in
The conclusions that we draw.
And when there's nothing more to say,
No more answers to be reached,
We can pass away the darkness
In the silence finally breached.

These whitewashed walls scream out my discontent,
The faces of inmates line the corridors, impassive and unimpressed,
I bang on steel locker doors, but I hardly make a dent,
My words are not replied to, and my screams go answered,
It doesn't matter though, they are silent screams of aid,
They resound through these hallways like the echoes of a gale,
The cold of locker steel is an ever foreboding constant.
They line the hallways, like the vigilant sentinels of a jail,
And I can help but think, how familiar the two seem to be,
And how in one a perfect illusion is created, of being free,
These whitewashed walls are filled to the brim,
With students and inmates, angels and demons alike,
Teachers and wardens stalk these halls, hidden behind their hollow faces,
Bullies and inmates swarm these halls, hidden behind unfamiliar faces,
In these whitewashed walls, there are blackened souls and empty holes,
Holes where hearts used to be, and coal where souls used to be,
These whitewashed walls are alive, and they bear witness to it all,
And here these whitewashed walls remain, through our rise and our fall.

You once asked me why I never left.

"Familiarity" was my answer.

I often answered my phone without looking who was calling me but once I heard your voice, i already knew it was you.
You had the habit of sneaking up on me, but even a couple meters away I already know that you're around. Your scent that smells like coffee and cigarettes with a pinch of lavander lingers through the air and I already knew that you were there.
We used to stay all night on our rooftop just to see the stars I loved. I counted every plane that would pass by and you would count the hours of sleep you get from then on. For a moment there was silence and I knew you fell asleep, even breaths and slighty snoring, but i dont mind. I loved the way your face's calms when you sleep, your lips curve at one side and your eyebrows not scrunched up like always. From then on, i knew i would love to wake up everyday to your view.

After a couple of months you asked me why I was leaving you.

"Familiarity" was my answer.

Days would pass and you seldomly call or text me. The only time i could hear your voice was when I look through our old videos.
Time was never on our side, we suddenly had no time for each other. There were no more time for making out, no more time for some warm hugs, no more time to share how was our day. No more time to say and let the other feel loved.
It rained and there were no stars in the sky that night. I fell asleep on the window seat, watching every raindrop fall on the glass. The next morning when I woke up, it was like you were never there.

In the lightly lit path in shown by the moon
I sauntered forward to face my doom.
I walked through the pond
Shallow water swirled against my ankles.
The water that lay below splashed
With every step I took.
Every drop was something I left behind,
Something to say goodbye,
Every tear I bared.
The familiar path I once knew,
Was now the mystery of the new beginning.

i'm no stranger
to bathtubs and sinks full of red water
to red-stained sleeves
to blood loss.
no stranger
to losing people,
no stranger
to wanting to go home.