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Yani Nov 2019
Nothing good ever happens after 2 AM.
You should have gone home,
Poured a glass of wine,
Listened to Ted Mosby
As you watched HIMYM.

You should have refused
That cup of coffee,
Exposing your heart out
In the process of enjoying
Whatever ‘that’ you have.

It’s past two in the morning,
Hug that pillow, go to bed.
Sleep now, peacefully
And rest well my heart.
When the clock struck two, you should have gone to sleep.
fray narte Sep 2019
When I meet the one, it won't feel like a
fairytale laureled with happy endings
walking out of a book and coming to life.
It won't be cherry-kisses and holding hands
while sky lanterns ascend from the ground.
When I meet the one, it won't be about that
"I know that they're the one" the moment our eyes meet;
it won't be it's-worth-writing-a-song-about kinda romantic.
When I meet the one, it won't at all be
about spark and fires
or skipping heartbeats
or slow-motions
or soul recognitions
or true love.

For meeting the one —
it's watching everything we had
collapse into a sinkhole of memories,
and down, down they go — each and every one we made.
Meeting the one —  it's walking away
and away and away, and risking a glance
at your fading silhouette
It's knowing you'll meet yours too,
and knowing it's not me.
Darling, it's coming to terms
with the thought that
the future we planned
is now reduced into a television blur
and spilled beers, drying up way too soon,
and in the end,
it might have been you.
It might have been me.
It might have been us.

And, that's all we'll ever be.
fray narte Sep 2019
There were midnights when I could still tell you about my dreams. Of course, they were always about us — marvelling at the colors of the sky. With you, standing under the sun and getting lost in the afterglows and collapsing with the black holes sounded romantic. One night, I would dream about reading the books we collected together. Other nights, I would dream of kissing the tips of your lashes inside our blanket forts in terry cloth robes and Birth of Venus and Starry Night socks. Regardless, we would be up at 5 am — you with your whole bean coffee, listening to the tales authored in my sleep.

Except that in my dreams, it still feels like her instead of you. It always does. So tonight, I hope you keep yourself warm and touch the dream catcher tattoo on your nape and not think of me anymore. I know that I'm the reason for your sleepless night and memories dressed in nightmares, but tonight, I hope that you go back to sleep and no longer dream of the love I fabricated. And when it's 5 am, I hope you realize that you need something a little better than my dreams. I hope you brew your coffee to the right strength and no longer look at where I used to sit to tell you my daytime stories. So go back to sleep now. You'll be okay — without the what if's and the dreams and the happy ending written in our name. You'll be okay, darling.

You'll be okay without me.
kristina Jun 2016
how to be like Barney?
how can i stop being sad
whenever i'm sad
and be awesome instead.

— The End —