Why do you scare me?

I'm not sure
and maybe
I won't ever be -

I push the soft confines
of the blanket
to cover me whole

I just wish you didn't

I hastily turn the light off

Maybe the darkness could become light one day
Maybe the pain could be healed and we are all free from sorrow
Maybe the furthest of stars could finally shine with brighter light
Maybe be our efforts will eventually payoff
Maybe, maybe not someday
The puzzle of uncertainty still takes over
If only someone could tell the future

Cumbersome, I am
Under some profound stress, and
I'm clueless at best

wouldn't it be beautiful
you and i
together
(𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩!)

or.
maybe not
maybe a different story (poem)
will tell you some day later...


vargov

I write stories about love;
while you are there to read them.
I smell hard copies of bondpapers and graphite;
While your eyes were fixed on digital graphics
I’m obsessed on taking pictures;
While you are already contented by them on mind.
One day, Cupid take his role and
Our hidden strings started to connect
No one could explain the things behind this magic;
The love we both feel and its extremities--
The uncertainties despite of each other’s promises
Without our names, who are we?
Are we that Ying and Yang that are meant to be?
Or the typical love stories
Sweet, steamy, and paradise at first;
But bitter, regretting, and painful at the end?

standing, on the edge of a glass ledge
my will to live becomes a limiting factor
oh my mind ponders,
moments of laughter,
moments of wonder,
moments of my happily ever after
all of them lead to this one right here.
will I fall?  or keep soaring in vain
writing another piece.

haripriya

You told me
there was a certain beauty in the never-return —
cherries wither into whispers of smoke,
river shivers upon winter's stroke
sparrows mourn and sing and forget,
how we used to be strangers, lovers, then strangers again
deep in the darkness you stared at me, smiling
with a mouth of pearly teeth
crushing the piling blossoms underneath, saying
I better remember this fading fragrance, and
carry it to your grave,
for this is our last parade.