The space between us is not just miles—  
it’s the ache in my ribs when I breathe,  
the way my hands forget their purpose  
without the weight of your hips to hold.  

I am a house with no windows,  
a room where the light refuses to stay.
  
The world feels like a poorly written script—  
everyone else is laughing, but I can’t find the joke.  

I want to kiss you so badly it feels like a crime,  
like the universe has locked your lips in a glass case  
and hung a sign that says Do Not Touch.
  
But I would break every rule,  
shatter every law of physics,  
just to feel the warmth of your mouth on mine.  

I miss the way your voice wraps around my name,  
how it sounds like a prayer I didn’t know I needed.
  
I miss the way your laughter spills into the room,  
a symphony I’d trade my silence for in a heartbeat.  

I want to marry you—  
not in the way they show in movies,  
with the white dress and the perfect vows,  
but in the way that feels like coming home,  
like finding the missing piece of a puzzle  
I didn’t even know I was solving.  

Without you, the world is a grayscale film,  
a song played on a broken piano.
  
I am a shadow of myself,  
a half-finished poem  
waiting for your hands to write the ending.  

Come back to me.

Or let me come to you.
  
Let me close this distance,  
this unbearable, infinite space  
that feels like it’s swallowing me whole.  

I am not whole without you.
  
I am not anything.

I used to cry when I was alone,
I was scared of people leaving me,
I was more scared of getting used to it,
I have to thank you though because now,
I have no reason to worry all of that because,
I have you to stay with me and you have me too.

Cheerful children stir

the cauldron, they are brewing --


bubbling happiness.

The wind dances through your hair,
your steps—light, effortless air.
Have you ever seen it?
The way eyes turn—
watching you move,
watching you twirl.

You sway like a butterfly,
spreading joy as you pass by.
A vision of beauty, soft yet bright,
your presence lingers in my mind.

But did you ever realize?
Beyond the glow of worldly grace,
it’s your optimism—radiant, rare—
that makes you truly beautiful.

Lord, so often I'm looking for the next thing
Believing that, happiness, it will bring
Then I find, to my dismay, it's not true at all
And, once again, my dreams and hopes fall
I'm looking for something to call my own
I'm longing for the feeling that I'm finally home
A place where I'm truly loved and fully known
A place where I never again have to feel alone
You say you have a plan for me: I believe it is true
You tell me that you love me: I believe that you do
You say you'll be always with me: I believe this too
You ask me just to trust, and I still hold back from you
The things of this world are fast and fleeting
But you love and word are forever keeping
When the affections of earth are cruel and cold
Help me recall love's anchor to which I must hold

Lord, teach me how to be wholly satisfied
Break these bonds of selfishness and pride
You are my shepherd, there is nothing that I lack
As I cast my eyes ahead, help me not look back
My eyes are ever wand'ring
And my heart, ever restless
But as I come into your presence
I am speechless, I am breathless
I stand amazed in wonder and in awe
As I see before me the very throne of God
The angels sing and anthems ring
Shouts of praise: Hosanna to our King
Holy, Holy, Holy saturates the air
Tears fill my eyes, and I don't even care
And now, like the morning sun, it dawns:
That this is where my heart belongs
The feeling fades and yet it lingers still
By your goodness and grace, it always will

The sound of our laughter is drowned out by the waves at the beach.
There is sea foam lapping at my feet.
Your socks are dry.
It takes some convincing, but I eventually get you to join me in the salt water, your socks discarded in some nearby crevice between two rocks.
The air feels prickly as you stare me down, with something indecipherable in your expression.
Oh, look.
The sun is setting.
When we kiss, I don’t think about how this could be the last time. The sky turns into a hazy hue of lavender, and mist settles over the ocean currents.
You dive headfirst, clothed and everything (except for your socks). I trust you blindly and feel myself dropping backward in slow motion.
All of a sudden there’s a splash in my ears, and my eyes are stinging from the water and the salt feels bitter on my lips.
You meet me halfway, underwater, and pull me up with the strength of a lover.
I remember this well: I’m clinging onto you for dear life, gripping onto wet cotton draped over your shirt, and my legs wrapped around your waist like some kind of parasite.
Later when dusk has come and gone, and all that’s left is us with wet hair at the dock, I’ll ask you the question that ****** us.

the tea in my bottle is never still.
in some way or another, the earth trembles.
this land has been wrecked with mother nature’s mood swings,
her earthquakes shaking us apart.
the crops tremor,
and the grass sways in the absence of wind.
maybe it’s the unsteady thumping of my heart.
maybe i mistaken the unsteady lines of its beat on the ECG machine
for that jarring feeling of losing my footing.
do you feel the way the earth shakes too?
do you hear the way my heart quivers for you?