Souls do not weigh much.
Not at all-
that they can outdo the lightness of a feather
and even the barest of all wrecked hearts.
Souls- too delicate,
that they stray upon vibration of the thinnest air.
You see, I have a soul.
It will take me.
And I will let it.
And as for you,
who is a soul wrapped within a soul-
if the air takes you,
then I shall let you go.

I won’t turn off the lights for you.
Because that is what your eyelids
Are for.
Some darkness in this world
Are made from the layers we put
Before our sight
Whenever we close our eyes.

I look at you as if
I am looking at a photograph,
knowing exactly what place
and season it was taken.
I look at you as if
I know exactly which parts
of your face get to be touched
by the light.
I look at you as if
my old capture of your smile
hanging bloodless
on my wall
is not the only role
you'll ever play in my life.

When will you understand
the concept of my being here?
That I am here,
ready to interpret
your random glances
into dying for help.
That I am here
if you need someone
to lace up your shoes,
to dry away your tear-laden tissues,
and to save you from all the rules.
I am here. Notice me.
Walk upon the shelf
where I sit nearby and see me.
See that I am here
–looking past the people, promise,
and warmth just to snuggle my sight
unto its righteous home- that is you.

Still I ask, when will you understand
the concept of my being here?

I hope
you remember yourself
well-enough tonight.
Because we all know
how fireworks are proud,
and loud and glittery
while sadness is illuminating
at its own sky,
somewhere in the
year-long night
living inside you.

We were younger than our feelings.
We were far behind the perfect time.
We were searching for that hour
between midnight and the next minute,
only to know that there is no such thing
- not even a lie.
They said
"True love waits"
-but they didn't tell us
what will happen
after all the waiting.

I stand here too still
Like a tree in a meadow
Though trees are alive

When this world has deprived you
Land beneath your feet,
Air for you to breathe,
Hope to grant you sleep,
I will be here.
And I will write
Of you,
For you,
To you-
I will write a world
through and through.
No matter how all edges
has pinned my arms
on the tamest grounds,
still I will write
of one true wild.
I will write a world made
For you, especially for you-
To survive.

You need to get out of bed.
You need to get a life.
They said.
Yes, I do need to get out of bed.
All these lying in bed without
Winking a **** sleep
Is mocking my sheets
To shame.
I do need to get out of it.
Also
My pillow
Almost
Smells like the sea.
Salty drops of moisture
Wasting themselves in the sponge
That is my pillow.
And it’s like the sea to me.
The sea and its lust in drowning me to life.
The sea I always create.
The sea that dries up
Before the morning light.