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Lunar Oct 2017
I've been wishing for you,
wishing on you;
Is this the reason why
my dreams don't come true
because they don't need to?
When you're here
dancing as the pale moonlight
across my shadowed skin;
it's only in the dark
when I can let you in,
and we can see each other
best and in our brightest.
So paint yourself on the canvas of my thoughts;
allow me to be the blank pages you need.
I'll empty myself for you to fill me whole
with this dance of the thirteenth month—
a tribute birthed out of this tune.
When it ends I'll never move again
the same way I did before:
because now you are the echoing pulse of my bloodstream,
and I'm completely anew like the full moon.
Inspired by SVT's Performance Unit's song 'Lilili Yabbay/The Dance of the 13th Month'.
I love the theme of the song, the dance's choreo, the genre; from the scenery, to the fluid movements which flow between the dancers' extremities and the fabric that wraps around their skin.
Ever heard of a song that's part of a dance, not just a dance that's part of a song? This is one of those rare kinds of songs.

Faye May 2017
It was in the 26th of May
When thirteen stars became one in the galaxy
Among the stars that light up the dark sky,
They shine the brightest with their own light

More were enticed by their brilliant colors
With their own flare that never wears out
In the sky, we watch them dazzle
They will never lose that spark

Others might try to dim their flame
But they only blaze up with more energy,
Enchanting the whole universe
All eyes and ears; mesmerized

Though we're skies apart,
Our hearts are just a beat away
A promise to always protect the glow
Of the thirteen stars that made us dream again
was supposed to post this on the 26th of May ;-;
Lunar May 2017
Like the switch button of a 90s television set, the echoes of a knock and a dead bolt’s lock pierces the static air of sharp breathing.

“Define stay, in your point of view, when you can’t even be here to explain its meaning directly to my face,” she pleads with glassy eyes on the verge of breaking down.

She silences a sob with the tearing of handwritten letters and the burning of old photographs.  She won’t need them; she already has every word bound and every pixel branded onto her memory, as much as she tried to annihilate it all.

Behind the closed door, his eyes mirror hers.  His tongue was dry, but careful enough to select the words that would quench their parched throats and hearts.

Will she open a new door? Will he face a new destiny? Are they even in the same corridor, the same floor, the same building?

They’ve been roaming separately, unsure of their directions if one is following the other’s path. Or are they just traveling in circles of pure coincidence?

He knocks again.

“Stay is when my hands or eyes are unable to hold you close, yet you know you’re home.  Because of the way you are anchored to my voice when I say your name, or the way my heart keeps you with me.  

Stay doesn’t always require physical presence.  

I know you are already decided on staying whenever I enter your mind, whenever you think about me. And you know I can never leave your mind, much more your heart.”

She stays put where she is.

The only thing she leaves is the door—open—for him.
to, for, and inspired by wjh

you're always making me write the best words. i still hope you realize this one day. in the future i will leave, but my words will stay with you.
Lunar May 2016
I tried to leave
but his hands held onto mine,
like a lost traveler,
kept in an ancient city.
He asked why
I had to go.
And I told him,
"I want to go back home".
he looked up at me,
with eyes like attractions,
which I want to visit
and take snapshots of.
My fingers traced his face
one more time,
like I'm tracing a map
of unvisited destinations.
Then he pulled me into
a homely embrace.
With his voice like a warm
and protective blanket said,
"Stay with me.
I'm your home,
And I'll be your vacation."
to j x s!
please drive safely and stay in your lane!
home is where the heart is, and it's with him.

— The End —