Absence is to love as wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small and kindles the great
— Roger de Bussy-Rabutin, Memoir of Roger de Rabutin


Four thousand meters above the sea, I breathe without air
I feel the same when beside me you are no more
The black, the void chokes me in the moment’s despair
And The Scarlet Fear runs inside me with a thunderous roar

My aching marooned heart bleeds from behind
Of the darkened soul that consumes me at each stride
But love is the golden aether of my troubled mind
An oxygen supply brought to this confusion tide

Without your presence, they were icy nights
Though knowing your fire ignited with my fuel
Is a mild treat, a promise of a beautiful sight

Kindless trouble, is it all in my imagination?
And is the love I feel a mere foolish incantation?

I will never know until she answers my soundless voice

the pulsating rhythm feels dead
it moves and yet it stops
it dances and yet it cries
it sways and yet it breaks

the maroon skies and sunflowers
the one that i always dreamed of
how can i reach you?
how can i be with you?

the yellow seems bright to me
i am with you but i realized i don't want you
my heart feels so far when i'm with you
my dream is far when we are together

i just want to be free here
i want to chase you, badly and endlessly
even if it pains me a lot
even if you reject me

i want to be there
i want to see the sunset with sunflowers at my sight
i want to feel the euphoria in my eyes
even if it is a deadly sight

if you are not for me
remove the thought of you in my existence
please leave if we will not meet each other
because i always want you, even at the ends.

Ink is spilling
From my skin
A melancholic signature
Of me abstaining
From free will

You left in the brightest of greens,
And came home donning maroon.
How long has it been?
Eight months.
Eight months of your unavoidable absence.
Yet, while you were gone,
I continued marching on like a valiant soldier should.
I’m fighting to be like you,
You who is kind and funny and smart and undeniably beautiful.
One day, I hope, you’ll tap me on my shoulder
And say, “I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

She was painted so beautifully.

With little specks of crimson like the fire that burned in her heart.

Dots of pumpkin and persimmon dancing on that one patch of hair she never died back.

Drips of amber and daffodil seemed to glow around her body as she wished to feel happy again.

And a shaded emerald painted like bars which contained her jealousy because all she wanted was to be perfect.

Swirls of cerulean and teal like the tears that dripped off of her face.

And the violet dashes were her moments of tranquility where her hands created magic out of papers and pen and her mind was finally put to peace.

The magenta smeared across her lips, making her feel a tad bit prettier.

Dabs of maroon like the blood that was shed,

When she used the silver blade to pierce her golden bronze skin.

She was a colorful girl behind the grey mask she hid under,

All to avoid the threats she received in black and white.