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Am I beyond saving?
Is this silence permanent?
Is this pain just penance in disguise?
or is it the weight of change dragging me forward?
The truth is—if I change,
I want it to be for her.
Not for the next empty word called “love.”
I want it to be real this time.
Not performative. Not reactive.

We were passionate, raw,
a force to be reckoned with.

We waged war with hearts still tethered.
Fitted like puzzle pieces carved in chaos—
Two magnets caught in a dance of push and pull.

Still, we were a team. A twin flame.
Bonnie & Clyde.
We loved with force and vibrance.
Peace, and malice.
Wicked and delighted.
We were not the calm,
but the storm that washes away the pain.
So, I pray in the quiet corners of my mind
that she’s somewhere, doing the same—
growing, healing, hurting, hoping.
That this is the cocoon phase.

Before the miracle of us begins again.
Countdown
It’s almost as sure as the apocalypse, or centennial planetary alignments, as old as time and as sure as the sun setting, its rising, it’s within the air, waiting. An ancient curse spelled on us ever since the dawn of the day, ever since our inceptions.

Yet this second, all of that doesn’t matter.
When my pink nail beds, shone under our dimmed, warm, bedroom light.
As my fingers races each others all over the warm surface,
the trails I left on you are beaming, you’re incandescent.
Almost looks like cracked earth’s surface with lava underneath.
The true you peeking through.

And when you sighed the deepest sigh,
I can almost hear primal bellow ripping through,
the hunger, the thirst, the longing, the glistening molten gold,
ready to drench and mold me into one of your statues,
and with your faintest lick from my collar bone to my left earlobe,
in between these sheets and my moan you whisper,
“Nothing is permanent, my baby.“

And I think it’s safe to say that I am about to burst
my bubble. As I burst under you, with my half-closed teary eyes, blurry,
And my longing mouth opened, looking for yours.
And you keep thrusting me even after, spasm-inducing ******,
like running through the rain and got drenched all over,
water is seeping in to my shirt, my undergarments, absorbed in to my pores.
Its coldness is almost deceiving, contradicting itself when warmth appears gradually.
Enveloping me. You’re my hypothermia.
The pain I embrace, the pain I wore with pride, the death I welcome.

Acknowledging our fate is the beauty, of cherishing what we have deeply.
The fear of losing each other is nothing, compared to our rendezvous,
we have endured it again and again, to even notice how hurtful a good-bye is.
I am left in smug, knowing that even though, your touches will forever perish soon,
I would still find you next time.

and as much as I wanted to curse our fate, thinking that we’re ******,
way too deep, the trench of Mariana depth,
the footprints we have left,
breaths we let out,
sounds we made,
dreams we dreamt,
words we've spoken and written down,
all through times,
are all true and I am here because of you.

my love, if forever we need to run from fate that seeks to claim,
and forever we have to endure until there’s not enough to maim,
then I don’t mind,
they better have a good aim.
28/01 – 04/04
2022
About a Muse,
South Tangerang, Banten
rk Jul 8
the first time we met
a chance encounter
on my way out the door
yet something
held me in place
your eyes keeping me
in your rose kissed grasp

we met
and i wondered
how i could already
have so much love
for one person
it was as if we'd fought together
on the same battlefield
swords clashing
shields in place
fighting for each other
again and again

maybe then
it's not too much to hope
that there is another world
in which we made it
choosing each other
above all else
a place
where roses bloom
on the bloodiest battlefields

we met
and i knew that i had loved you
in every lifetime.
You crafted a shrine for me,

adorned me with wings,

elevated and sacred, untouched by your secrets.

Your last chance at redemption,

a sanctuary where you hid from yourself.

Your perfect lie—

an illusion of salvation.

Once shattered, your adoration

twisted into disdain.

The hand that shaped my wings,

became the force that broke them.

And now, you watch me fall

from the heights you once placed me upon.


Yet I release you, I forgive you,

Love, a quiet thread that ties us still,

A spark woven into the fabric of time,

Never truly gone, but transformed,

gently fading

into the glow of what we were.

I return sometimes to those moments,

not with longing, but with reverence—

like that stolen kiss—

unexpected, breathless,

the words "I love you" spilling from me,

uncontainable, truthful,

your arms, holding me,

an electric hum between us.



This is how I'll hold us—

in the warmth of what we were,

not in the sorrow that followed.

When you remember me,

let it be the quiet depth of my love that remains,

the warmth of my hand resting softly on your

cheek,

the steady, unwavering gaze that held you,

unchanged by time.

Let that be what stays with you—

not the deafening silence that followed,

not the weight of what we lost,

but the light that we held, even just for a moment,

so close to perfect but fragile.

Not perfect enough.
Oh how we love the ones who can teach us both heaven and hell…
Lyteweaver Jun 19
We're running on a borrowed memory
of fading energy
that's losing its fire and desire to burn.
Strike a match next to
my heart
to
ignite the wick of serendipitous
romance
as we catch flame together
incinerating
stored pain and trauma
until we combust and turn to ash
in a dusty pile on the earth
swirled
together
for eternity.
Stephen Knox Mar 27
As best friends go, you really weren't great.
Much like my wife, who was also an eight.

There were times that you fumbled and bumbled some care.
The whole time remaining, not really there.

I miss having someone, to show myself to.
I keep it inside now, not sharing with you.

Why does it bother and hurt me so much.
To not know the reason, to why we lost touch.

Now I just move, from one moment to next.
Since looking behind me, just leaves me perplexed.

I still want for you, all the things you may need,
Like abundance in wealth, or a buttload of ****.

Now when I think of you, once in a while.
Remembering things, that you said, makes me smile.

If you don't see me, only message I send.
Notice the things, that don't break, instead bend.

These words that I've written and needed to say.
Repairing tomorrow, through feelings today.
I don’t wish to close my eyes
while you sleep.

I don’t wish for time to slip away
while you smile.

I wish to fall asleep by your side
if one day it rains.

I love your white essence,
and also your dark one.

I love when you give yourself in parts,
and also when you give yourself completely.

I love your tenderness,
and also your hardness.

A tiny body,
but a soul of greatness.

A dark past,
but a radiant present.

A deep toughness,
but an incomparable kindness.

A little shy,
but of immeasurable courage.
I wrote this text addressed to the universe months ago. When I gathered all my poems together, I realized that this person had arrived. The universe had granted my wish.
He is her mirror,
The one she stands before
Whether things are good or bad.
Until she walks away,
She doesn’t understand
The cracks spreading
Across her face,
Ignoring the obvious
She applies more makeup.
Though she’s gone,
Her presence lingers,
Soon to follow.

In front of her mirror,
She could speak as freely
As she wanted,
Be seen for who she is.
In front of family and friends,
She’s quiet,
Acting out of appearance,
Ignoring the space, she thought
Was empty.

She doesn’t think about it
Until a friend brings it up.
Talking about her own love life,
A place she feels secure.
Her friend’s smile, big and bright,
While she speaks.
She thinks of him,
Her mirror.
No matter how bad she feels.
He finds a way
To make her feel better.
If something is off,
He’s quick to point it out.
He’s always there when
She needs him.
She never had to speak
To be seen when he was around.
The only place she only felt whole.
The cracks on her face shows
rhyme weaver Jan 16
My divine love, so unconditional and pure,

A truth eternal, steady and sure.

There’s no need to change, to hide or pretend—

You are enough; there’s no need to bend.

I know fear whispers softly, its shadow unfurls,

It’s casting doubt in love’s precious pearls.

The mind replays what the heart has known,

A cycle of lessons, seeds once sown.

You cling to her like I clung to the vampire,

A fleeting comfort, an ember’s fire.

Seeking to fill what feels like lack,

So afraid of solitude’s cold; the fear keeps pulling you back.

I know this place, this hesitant ache,

The ego’s hunger, the heart’s mistake.

It whispers softly, “You’ll never be enough,”

So we have always settled for fleeting, afraid of love’s rough.

But love’s greatest test is not in the fight—

It’s in the courage to step into the light.

The toxic was “easy”, familiar, and clear.

Patterns repeated, year after year,

Familiar ghosts, always so near.

Comfort in chaos, masking the fear.


We choose the “easy”, the well-known pain,

Hoping for joy, but finding only strain.

We cling to the past, though we yearn for change,

Fearing the unknown, reluctant to range.

The familiar wounds, though deep, are safe;

So we self-sabotage love, fearing it’ll break.


Our hearts know better, yet our minds rebel,

Telling stories where only darkness dwells.

But growth begins where comfort ends—

In the unknown, where true love mends.

We search for solace in what we’ve known,

Afraid to leave what we’ve outgrown.

Though our hearts long for something more,

We continue to hesitate, fearing what’s in store.


The past’s grip is a haunting guide,

Whispering doubts that we try to hide.
But love’s power is found when we finally let go,

When we dare to trust and let ourselves grow.

It will be a whole new world, with you by my side,

Where love flows freely, no secrets to hide.

Like Aladdin and Jasmine, hearts bound in grace,

Their souls connected in an enchanted space.

She saw the goodness, the strength in his eyes,

Beyond his station, beyond the disguise.

He saw her spirit, fierce and untamed,

Not just a princess, but a woman unchained.

On a magic carpet, their worlds intertwined,

No walls to divide, no hearts left behind.

So rise, my phoenix, from the ashes of pain,

Burning away what no longer remains.

The chains of old stories, the doubts that bind,

Are fuel for your rebirth, and with peace you’ll find

Mindful whispers and tender care;

Self-love blooms in the open air.


You are worthy—right now, as you are—

A radiant soul, your own guiding star.
Our union can heal what solitude hides,

Opening spaces where real love resides.

No need to change, just let love flow,

For in this moment, you already glow.


Together we learn, and together we will rise,

Healing the wounds and claiming the prize.

Two phoenixes reborn from love’s holy fire,

Awakening truths and lifting us higher.
1.16.25
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