I feel like I must confess,
I owe it to my readers...

To tell you the truth,
I never really know what to write about,
I could write about a summer day,
Or autumn and it's dismay,
I could paint the colours of spring,
Or the bride who lost her ring,
I could write about the lovelorn youth
Or the pain that laughs can sooth,
I could tell tales about the moon,
Or the serpent behind the dune,
Perhaps I'd write about the sky,
Or about wanting to cry.

In all honesty I don't know what to write about,
I could write about not knowing what to write about,
But I just close my eyes and let the hand write what it will,
I trust the pen,
I trust the hand,
I trust my readers' taste :)

Dear Past Self,
We're in the same boat.
You worked hard
To keep us afloat.
What if I
Put your work to waste?
My blood is
All that I can taste.

Dear Past Me,
We're in the same boat.
You rowed far.
You kept us afloat.
I won't fail,
Won't bow to the knife.
I owe you
The rest of my life.

Dear love,

When you feel like, you can no longer love me,
Write a letter to me.

Your love.

No one really ever sees you,
No one really ever realises your might,
No one really ever cares to ponder about you,
No one really ever realises how interesting you are,
They all see you as just a shadow,
But I am here,
I see you,
I understand you,
I am you...

I think I gave myself away, with a musician and, the name and the data
this world gave me and by which it holds me by.
Thought the clock struck midnight and the spell broke,
thought we’d return to the measly grey resuming.
As one deems things too good as untrue, the bitter more reliable despite its fake,
I scared myself that name would take my truer life away.

Yet then it came to me through
that whilst among these
trash bins we live in
things may work this way,

in a greater dominion and
our hopes, talks,
we know it is our will
and creation of our wonderland that
makes the reality and true identity.

There, I could have spilled
“Juliet” once,
but it rests as mere
fog under “Dante” I
gave space to
to be found and born.

There,
No harm done.

To whom it may concern,

I will still be here
When nobody else is
Do not give up
Do not give in
Do not forget
These few words;

I       Love       You

I remember the smile you made,
When you tousled my hair,
Matted them in tiny braids,
And patted my head
With so many words unsaid.

I remember the time,
When you taught me to make,
Tea for everyone in the evening break
Little spoons of sugar
With ginger, boiling milk
And messed up kitchen
Waiting to be cleaned.

I remember the time,
The honey you fed,
From the fresh gardens,
Narrated the stories,
As I drifted in my dreams

I remember all of your presence,
Yet fail to collect the last,
Of that sparkling eyes n welcoming face
Were you happy to come back,
Or distressed to rely on us
Were you glad to know that we love you,
Or sad to know that we pity you

Sometimes it's best to know,
The unknown emotions you made
As deep down the memory lane,
When I comb my short pigtails,
Or breathe the aroma of tea
Or narrate the scary tales
Closing my eyes in anticipation,
Waiting to see your face,
And the delightful smile
That crept mysteriously

dear atlas,

don't forgive,
just forget.

love,
atlas