when we first met
I finally understood
what all the songs, movies,
and stories tell about love,

but only now that our
paths may never
cross each other's,
I finally really understand.

These songs feel so familiar
These songs feel like death
I remember when I listened before
What they meant to me then
On nights covered in blood
From dozens of self-inflicted wounds
Depression a heavy fog in my head
Suicide in every thought
When my body felt foreign and strange
Nothing mattered
I just wanted it all to end....

So why... why do these songs...
They bring me comfort
I feel safe in their embrace

Perhaps I finally feel heard
I’ve acknowledged what I’ve felt
Accepted its existence
And I feel a bit more welcome
Living in my own mind

Or perhaps... it’s all happening over again

I am playing songs reminding me of you
I can't help but feel blue
How do I move when my heart is not fine
How do I forget when it's you I can only think about

I wish,
I can stop the night,
and wait for you,
when the day comes,
with cheering songs,

I wish,
I can stop the day,
and wait for you,
when the night falls
and stars kiss your lips,

I wish,
I can stop the light
chasing darkness,
and wait for you,
in the home of Gods,  

I wish,
I can stop this life,
and wait for you,
when my heart is a new,
in every birth to come,

I wish,
I can stop time,
and wait for you,
when our souls meet
in the Elysian Fields,

I wish,
I can stop the sea,
and wait for you,
swimming in the mystical
waters of eternal love.

MY INNER SELF. I FLOAT. I USED TO SEE YOU ON SOME OTHER SHORE. IT IS NOT ONLY THE VIRUS THAT ERODE OUR TOUCH. IT WAS ALSO THE MOOR OF YOUR EYES..."BE IN THE NOW" THEY TELL ME... CANNOT, BECAUSE THE NOW IS ME, WITH A BUNCH OF FIREFLIES INSTEAD OF A HEART.

all my blackbirds sing for me
and all my friends arrived
roses bloom above my head
a fine place to reside

lacrimal gush under vails will remedy
promises always lie
pain will tell the journey
trenched the soil to reach the sky

all my blackbirds stopped to sing
for they are no more
all my friends left the same
and all the roses wilt in dirt

I've been reckoned as a coward
they will never see what I saw
and all my songs will stay unsung
and all my songs will stay unsung

even listening to songs
at 3 am in the morning
doesn't help me forget you ;

there are just some moments in your life,
so irrelevant
yet so vivid in your mind.

a different person,
a different sofa.
singing while sobbing;
tears raining over skin like falling stars.

clueless about everything,
an empty ache lingered.

still.