You were never mine,
but you made me feel as if I were
in your arms,
my hands fit so right with yours

You were never mine,
but your songs seems like we once were
By the melody, we are deep in love
With your words of parting
of a meeting that never once occurred

You were never mine
But sometimes I wish you were
Always but I keep myself hidden
I knew—
from the risk of falling
It just cannot be—
So I fall back
Even if I knew it was a moment too soon

You were never mine,
I knew from the start.

You were never mine.
My love, you were never mine to keep

But you made me feel
like I was yours
And you were mine

— la douleur exquise

“Why is it you always write about the night?”/ he asks as he sees her scribbling down her thoughts again late at one in the morning.

She turns to him, unfazed and gives him a smile meant for the sun to shine down on.

“Because I feel there’s more sense into them. The night and us have something in common— something only the two us get.”

He lets her words sink into him, now looking over her shoulder with wonder in his eyes. He touches her ink stained fingers, pulling it close to his chaste lips.

“I do feel it.” He nods wholeheartedly, letting his eyes flutter with the beating of his heart echo in each other’s mind. She do hope he feels hers, too.

This is what she meant. It’s the silence and wishes that surrounds them. It’s the serene feeling, the stillness between them, that’s meant to be under the stars and the moonlight casting over their skins.

She finds comfort in the stars as it reminds her of his bright lit eyes. As he feels safe under the moonlight every night; it’s her softness that draws him the same with the moon in the sky.

The moon and the stars will not bat an eye as they just continue to look after you.

It is the night that hears the most silent and powerful prayers from the heart.

And I do hope at some nights, no matter how far we are, he would be awake as I am not visited by sleep— he would think how somewhere out there, there’s someone wishing to be a moon to another like him. There’s also someone wishing to be closer with the stars.

— ironically, I wrote this at dawn.

Are you somewhere sleeping, or wide awake?
Please look up the night sky
think of how I— someone is occupied
by the thoughts of your sharp eyes
Be as is with the dim lights the stars are bringing

These summer nights never seem to play
the cold melody of the air
I am used to hearing
as I let my heart resound your name
Here I call, waiting for the echoes;
any signs from you— where are you now?

My dear, do not fret
You’re the only one I find endearing
Please pass on your worries onto me,
pour out your thoughts
until you’re left with none
Let me seep onto your skin,
play with the soft strands of your hair
Let me whisper you comfort
until the buzzing of the tiring white noise
after a long day from your ears reside

Darling, you are no less than any stars
laid onto the deep velvet sky,
Don't think otherwise
as you’re worth palaces
above the clouds up high

Do not listen to the shadows that tell lies,
just breathe onto me,
let me comfort you with smiles

Until then at least look for me in your dreams
If you’re needing comfort,
or just in need of a shoulder to rest
You can always lean on me

The sound of the pouring rain from the roof woke me up.

I got myself a chair in the patio of our house. I sat there comfortably, sitting in silence for a good whole minute.

I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the pouring rain immerse into me. Imagining myself getting soaked, as if I really am in the middle of the pouring rain, drenched, and laughing carefree in the distance.

"Being outside is nice huh?" I heard a pleasant voice behind me. I let my eyes stay closed for a moment, letting the cold wind meet my face to wake me up. I also welcomed his words, nodding at him with acknowledgement. I was then met with a chocolatey steam; he prepared us two cups of hot cocoa.

"Figured you're a bit cold." His voice sounded raspy, sleepiness still evident in his tone. I turn to him as he got himself another chair close to mine. He looks up a bit, seeping the rain onto his porcelain-like skin. He doesn't go out that much to get some sunshine as to why.

I hummed absentmindedly, warming up to his presence. There was a small smile across his lips, his eyes warmer than the hot drinks he have at hand.

I mirrored his smile, getting my cup from him.

"I kinda like the cold feeling but I wouldn't want to waste your effort." A chuckle escaped my lips, and his crescent-like smile appeared before me.

He drank from his cup as I sipped on mine, letting the vibe from around me flood my senses.

I love these little instances he would think of me. Slipping a thought into his tasks, gestures that show that he does take effort in remembering things I love. Like how I prefer hot chocolate over tea in rainy days, and how I love seeing his smile on early mornings. Even as he loathes waking up and moving off the bed so early. Oh how I love this man before me.

And we sat there in silence, side by side, letting the sky pour out its rain. Our cups at hand, the aroma of the cocoa steam over our senses, full to little to none, with the cold wind howling a bit in the distance.

This went on for an hour or so; I still couldn’t wrap around the idea of how much I love these instances. I had always found comfort in him between our silences and exchanges of glances. Just in him in general; he’s my blanket, my safety— the personification of home. My umbrella; my shade to my blazing sunny days and cover to cold rainy days. I looked over his broad figure from the back, I sigh in contentment.

And as if he heard the drizzle in my heart, he gave me a faint smile; a radiance just enough to soften the hues all around us. But just enough that he stands out amongst the drizzling rain over the sunlight peeking through the clouds.

I could see the raindrops wash over the dewiness of his skin, and it looks like it's starting to show signs of stopping. But I just want to stay, stay out here a bit longer.

If I were to be honest,
I'll be called "mad".

— 'it is you that I love'

I might not be the one
who will tuck you to sleep
But darling I assure you
I will be there for you
the morning you wake up
Warming up your sheets,
only if you would let me

I might not be the one
To intertwine fingers
with your calloused hands
But my dearest, I'll be gentle
I can keep you warm
Holding close onto you
Even if it's us against the world
I will be the one here to stay

I might not be the one
Who will be chosen by you
But my love, I will choose you
And only you still
Over a thousand lifetimes
In the end till forevermore
Even so, my only dear
I'd choose you

I only pray for you, and only you.
Is that too much to ask?
I miss you so much that it actually physically pains me to know how far apart we really are.

My love, how long must I wait? – I long for your touch, I want to see your face. I just want to pull you close. Let me hear your heart beat and let me calm myself with your voice.

I want you to nuzzle softly in my neck, and gently press your lips on my cheek — can you feel them burning from your touch?
Let our lips dance, and let our hands roam – North, south, let us move to the rotation of the coast.

Will the universe align itself for our meeting?

Please let us be tied with destiny, let fate be at our stead.

Maybe the fact that this place is so familiar, it gives me nostalgia.

The consciousness that you were once present in this place hurts; it brings me an ache in my chest — like a hole ******* through me — a piece that's been missing.

Because here, it just reminds me of you.

I am looking for a sign of your touch between these spaces. Tracing every edges. Through the hard wood, the dim lit wall lights, through the white sheets of the soft bed.

I am longing for your scent that I haven't even grown to know.
I am looking for you even if it has been a long while since you've been here. Your scent's no longer lingering here...

It's been long gone, you're far from here now...

Why do I even go looking for something that I am not familiar with? Why am I even searching for something I cannot reach?

So you continued on living within the pages, tucked hidden in the stories I create. There are signs that dimly represent you in the scenarios conveyed, or can be oh so overt on the characters I portray.

I still can't help but slip you on the pages, love.

It can sometimes be involuntary, but it's not that I take dislike on it. Even if I say I want it to stay hidden, this love still show through. So I try to include you in my narratives, and tell the world around me how much you mean to me, one way or another.

Nothing can compare... to what I feel for you.