Underground in a mining town
All he needed was some light to see
He was accustomed to the supernatural darkness and low-visibility
No stranger to the dark
He had never seen the light

He was simply akin to his mining work
His father did not like his bright son working
Raging in a madhouse, he never saw his son again
Fathers lose their son to disease, and sons lose their fathers to dull madness

Underground in a mining town
It was always dark and many hadn't stopped dealing slaves
Sunlight was scarce, and he wiped his eyebrow sweat
The boy's shadow never saw the light of day
It was always scared and the brave boy never saw his spirited shadow again
Until he came out only for midnight-schooling and cheap women in neon streets

He was simply akin to his mother
If someone had told him to stop digging, it was her
It was his shadow, that took after his father
The boy hated his own shadow, a solitary light flickered in the coal mine
Not a shadow in sight

I think we call relate to drowning
even if you can swim ,
even if you love water,
even if you feel dry
even if you feel nothing but and endless ocean of nothingness.

if you’re human,
and even if you are not
You know what it is be surrounded .

you know what is to be consumed

to feel like a god
to feel like a mortal
to feel like prey
to feel like predator.

if you’re human,
And even if you are not
you know what it is to drown


and not want to come up for air .

Side by side.

Hand in hand.

Dancing under the Eiffel tower at midnight.

The ultimate love story a dance of wind, ghosts at night slowly

intertwining with each other as if the kiss of death is just one moment

away.

Whatever song you'll hum
while you drive is like a rhapsody
to my heart.
we'd have our fingers interlaced
and our hair
feeling the caress
of midnight breeze
as we speed at the highway
looking our way
to forever.
-Ikigai Poet

I told you I didn't want to be alive anymore. Maybe not death, but the way I was living wasn’t for me anymore. You held me close while I was fighting back the tears and demons. That night, you got me to sneak out, you didn't want to be alone either.
That was only a few weeks ago, do you remember it? Can I have that lovely, midnight boy back? Did I ever even have him?
That boy is who I think about when I speak to God about love. Although whenever you talk about love, you really mean lust or your blessed ex-girlfriend who is stuck in a long term relationship (****** buddy, really wish I could help you out here but I’m selfish. Why can’t you like me like that?)
You asked me to hang out a few days ago, I agreed, of course. I miss you more than I can admit. I told you, no ***. You texted me back, “what’s the point in hanging out if you are going to be boring.'' But what’s the point in falling for a guy who’s an ******* half the time.
Honestly, my version of the “good” you is pretty *******. I mean I wonder if my friends truly believe that you could have said half the **** you seemed to have genuinely meant. I always, always, present you like the best guy you could ever be. Here I am, once again, not even attempting to badmouth you. You really know how to work my mind. I give you props for that. Midnight boy, the one I admire the most, where did you run off to this time? I miss you. Come back.
Somedays I fear you only lived in my mind. My dear, I’m going crazy. I can’t sort what is real and what isn’t. Did you really say all those sweet things to me, darling? Or did I picture you saying that?  I wish I could get out of my head. Usually, I rant to you, but ranting to you about yourself would just simply be obscured. So maybe you can read my poetry someday and realize every verse on every poem is soaked in you.
The real problem is you never truly wanted my love. Maybe it made you feel better, maybe you felt powerful with it. Knowing I would do anything to be with you. Really it should make you feel like a ****** person, leading me to believe you really wanted me. You made up things to ensure nothing came real between us. Parents, sports, lust for any other godforsaken female on this planet. Hell, once you told me you don’t know why I even stay around. That if you were me, you would have left a long time ago. That made me think. Would you really? You told me it was a sign we always ended back in the same position. Underneath the stars on your trampoline. The sun would be coming up and I would curse time for still moving in a time like this. A time where everything was so peaceful and lovely. We would distance ourselves for a month or so. But, we would return back there, spilling out our souls. Or at least I did. You told me I knew everything about you, yet you feel like such a stranger to me.
God, please send this boy some help. I tried, I really did. But as the saying goes, you can’t help someone who doesn’t want it. I want all my prayers about him to be granted if that isn’t much of a hassle. I’m wishing you could hear this all. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried over this boy, yet I only want the best for him.
I’ve cried and cried. But he doesn’t shed a tear, for anyone.