When you see him, don't be surprised when he doesn't notice you
You see, He used to believe in wishing stars
He used to believe in the magic of the moon
He used to believe in the words of love
He used to believe in love

But a something or someone broke his heart and left him for granted
Now, his smiles are the fakest ones
His heart crushed into a million pieces

So when you see him, don't be surprised when he doesn't notice you fast
Instead, be there for him
Hug him and if he lets go, hug him again tighter
If he runs away, chase him over and over again
Make him see that in every "I love you" there is pain but there is also happiness

You have to make him believe in wishing stars
You have to make him believe in the magic of the moon
You have to make him believe in the words of love again
You have to make him believe in love

Love him, and he will love you back
Never give up

I never liked begging for attention. I swear.

But if I don''t, I would feel hopeless, unwanted, hurt, dying.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry if it's that stupid.

I never failed to start up a conversation with you but if I did, I was probably swallowed by my demon.

"You don't need another friend." is what it would say. But I actually do. I really do.

It's stupid for me to feel this but how can you exchange words with my brother because of the message he sent an hour ago but you don't with my messages I sent days ago.

I'm sorry if I'm annoying. I'm sorry if you don't feel comfortable around me. I'm sorry.

But I will not stop asking how you are. Because I promised to stay.

I told you I never leave and I never will.

Unless you tell me to.

I don't remember the reason
I just passed through the question
And found myself

Listening to the advice of a poet
I dare
Follow his footsteps

He introduced me to the quiet,
To the space and to the words he's saying in between
the words he says and chose not to say

While listening, I noticed
that he criticizes himself
Stopping for a moment.
Taking a deep breath
And continued

I observed him
Finding myself following his sad eyes
Those eyes that avoid others'
To meet mine

And once I again
I fell in love
with the beauty
of the stars

It shines constantly
above me
while I gawk
in wonder

How much pain do I have to endure
to get close
to touch
to make it mine

You're like the stars
Beautifully shining
However, so distant
And so painful to get near

And when I thought
everything was going
to be fine
It didn't

My pillow now serves
as a shoulder
to cry on
for comfort

My blanket now serves
as a hand
that muffles
my screams of agony

My cries of sorrow
are kept
by the four walls
that surround me

And when I thought
everything was going
to be fine
It didn't

It still isn't.

It's there on the untouched piece of paper; a single line

It's not just a smudge
But a trace of what could have been

I was fond of you, how was it?
Rejected, my subconscious mind was weakened by an everlasting wonder
Having paid the price for holding you down
I deeply grasped what I knew would set you free
Unbearable, you found me and have known that
My eyes were set on the only thing that held a candle to you

3 floors up
A bevy
Of opportunity was seen

Waiting to be conquered

And in the span of a lull
As the whisper
Of chance
Whispered playfully
In her ear

She wept

Besides,

What is
A friendly caress
At the departure

And strawberry lips
Refusing to reveal
The ultimate mystery

Compared to
The faint smell of cornstarch
Lingering on crumpled sheets?

A frail girl carrying the world in her hands; wonder in her eyes.

A boy as strong as the typhoons came along and chose to carry it for her because he loved her

But did he really?

The fact that he was the typhoon itself was undeniable. When he chose to carry it for her he just wanted to see her suffering as her world gets destroyed by his strong winds and powerful rain.

And then he left.

He just left.

Now the frail girl who used to have the world in her hands is now just a frail girl; no wonder in her eyes.

Just sorrow.

And so she never puts her trust on anything and anyone. But I hope someday someone will notice the tiny spark within her heart because in reality she is still waiting to be fixed.

She was never frail to begin with. No matter how devastating the calamity was, she still stood still.

Empty

But standing

Waiting

This is what feeling is like
in his hands, his fingertips;
holding on to concrete
and the wind

That must be what sadness keeps
in his clothes, his body
Colors of gray, of white
and never-ending light

This is what future understands
in his eyes, his soul
Solitary wisdom
moving without seeing and believing

This must be what
This must be
This is
This

Flight of paper thinness
Board and covered
Thoughts
written, felt, forgotten
by everyone

But me