I'm sorry
But this song will be
My deepest apology
From someone like me

I should've treated you better
Not that kind of girl who
Give thorns from words in my songs
If you'd read this letter
I hope you'll feel better

I'm your cactus friend
Who tries to hug you
But instead
Give thorns that made you bled

I'm sorry I'm waving good bye
But this will help you fly high
So go chase that dream
And forget that I have lived

I'm your cactus friend
Don't worry this soon will end
I'm sorry if I'd hurt you badly
You'll soon be sleeping soundly

I just wanna say I'm sorry
And thank you
My dearest friend
It's me your cactus friend

inamorato,

i often think of you during the nights before i rest soothingly, while i listen to the music of the rain until i fall asleep—with you occupying my thoughts which keeps me at comfort despite the drizzling weather. i think of you when the morning sunlight kisses my skin and i wake. i think of you during the time between day and night, and the spaces between the seconds that pass by so quickly. and if someone asks me what love is, my mind will be filled with your name—because to me, you are what defines love.

if these sea of thoughts could swallow me whole, i would've drowned; if one was alone, but saved by grace and i am accompanied by you in this vessel of love to crusade against nightmares. you and i fill in the gaps of tied chains, but it somehow feels like we’re untangling the impossible. you’re too far to reach, yet you’re here. with me. now i love you even more, and think of you more.

there’s not much to say now, and i don’t expect you to, you know i wouldn’t love you any less. i’d think of you still. and when you’re ready to hear these thoughts, i’ll be home. i'll wait for you, only when you’re ready.



her.

We talk in emojis
21st century style you know
Our conversation wraps
A few moments past dawn

He reports every second on the gram
Almost as if that’s his beau
Before exchanging good morning texts
He says Insta Fam hello  

And when we do get intimate
It just doesn’t feel right  
He goes on to publish
She’s my Aphrodite

Oh I want to be teleported
To the age of billet doux
Just two love birds
On a hilltop with a great view

So on a fine Monday morning
I told him what I really want
He said it much like a warning
That the Stone Age is long gone.

Love,

things won’t always go your way
skies will sometimes come in gray
and maybe you can’t even change anything about these days

It’ll take awhile for the drizzling to stop
and the colors to come again
A little bit of time for the smile to come
for these doubts to end

but I promise you, love

I’ll be here like the sun that hides beneath the clouds
I’ll be here like a punchline waiting at the end of a joke
I’ll be here like the comma you write whenever you need to take a break,
I’ll be here like the bookmarks you randomly used to make
I’ll be here like a song waiting to be sung
I’ll be here like a rhyme waiting to be rung
and you won’t be seeing me every now and then
but I’ll be there with you in the dark places you’ve made for yourself
in between the lies, in between the sighs, in between the “I don’t want to try”s , in between the

“I don’t need any help”

cause you do

you know that

and it’s okay

So please remember, love, from where you are now, someone right here is telling you she loves you, and she will continue to

So hang on

;

love,
You


p.s. take a break too

Many people spend their lives laying still in most abject- albeit veiled- horror, afraid to admit that they traded their personhood for a comfortable stance.

to you who i loved, now still do, perhaps soared, although vulnerable;
to you who refines a faint heart into a sweet growing garland,
your name echoes my thoughts and overflows my heart.
now, shall you whisper mine in one’s ear—
then i’ll hear the voice of the ocean
that speaks fairy tales and juvenile dreams.

to you who i love, always have,
perhaps more than a thousand times.
tonight, as silent as the wind passing by,
the night unveils once more, the enemy of anger:
a love that is safely kept in the wonders of the deep forest.
still, who is ire to interfere with two entwined soulmates?

my dear, the confidante of the moon,
i hear the hymn that you gracefully sing.
though love is but a triumph, too pure and fine,
your lips speak to beg; may this love never seek a forlorn goodbye.

but i know, dearest soul—sweet defeats bitter,
and my immortal soul does not age,
but instead, indeed grows love;
a love between us two; that, shall remain.

I once asked my mother, “Why are there tears in your eyes?”
She told me that she’d lost a good soul tonight.
I asked her, “Where do lost souls go?”
She replied with a weak smile, “To a land far beyond our own.”

Ten years hence, I knelt by a grave
Clothed in misery and wrapped in pain.
My sister, a girl of five, asked me why I’d cried
I told her, I was just too scared to be left behind.

Days were all grey, filled with a deafening silence,
Nights were the onslaught of the mind’s tyrants.
Weeks became months, months turned into a year,
Yet all the time in the world couldn’t heal the wounds in here.

I tried and tried, but I kept falling and failing
To discern the intensity of this morbid self-loathing
I feared that I’d forget, and I feared that I’d never forgive
And I feared that, with time, I’d rot until I was nothing.

And nothing I was, for a while. No joy, no face, no name, no grace.
My tears weren’t enough to warm his cold grave.
But with dusk, came dawn. A sliver of light, a ring of laughter.
I learnt to breathe easier, stand taller, be happier.

Like a child without her mother
Forced to fend for herself and no other.
I rose from the ashes of the one I’d lost.
A phoenix in every sense, a life brought back from the fatal frost.

To my dear uncle, whom I’d lost.
A good soul, a good friend, a piece of my heart.
I bid you a final adieu, for there is only now
And now is what I choose it to be.

I choose to let you go,
And to set myself free.
And thus the world moves on and time passes by
Your ashes amidst the trees you grew by and by.


I will sing your lullabies to the little one today,
And hope she turns out like you some day.

To my friends, who’ve lost someone close to their hearts,
Remember, their story has ended, but yours has yet to start.

So weave your words, tell your tales, and choose the life you want.
There might not be a happy ending for you, for death doth take us all.

Just listen to your heart and maybe you might stand a chance.
To find your beat, chain to the rhythm and maybe even sing along.