i talked to you in my dreams
you went over and you came to me
told you words i didnt get to speak
when you were here
but i knew you were listening

i didnt know that was the last time
i was angry and i made you leave
you were only sleeping next to me
so peacefully
it should’ve stayed as it should be

and i told God that you're a good one
and you should be with your family
run around the clouds so happily
and blissfully
like how it was supposed to be

i’ve been okay for most of my days
oblivious to the happenings of yesterday
but there’s a lingering thought and i wonder
about my roots that have far wandered

scrolling through a random page
i saw a man who shared my name and birthplace
a poet, a father, a scholar in time—
could he be the ghost in this blood of mine?

and i think about what he’d think of me
having the same interests and drive as he
would he be proud, would he be happy
knowing about his blood and legacy

i wish i met him and the ones before
at the least, i wish i knew about our lore
46 years gone, but you still linger
in the winds felt by your great granddaughter

so charming and charismatic
best in science and mathematics
and he’s good at making my head spin
he’s magnetically electric

red plaid shirt and levi’s jeans
he knows just how to get through me
hair tossed down, eyes lazy
he looks so good, but better in my sheets

i wonder if he knows his hold on me
every encounter, i fall so embarrassingly
when he says hi or waves goodbye
it’s enough to keep me ‘til the next time

laughs so loud, but he’s so quiet
we joke around and i really like it
my heart pounds, it’s automatic
no doubt, he’s electrically magnetic

is this what it feels like
when you’re the oldest in the room
and you feel so uncool
hearing names you haven’t heard of
cause you’re no longer in school

doing dares over drinks
and you care so much about what they think
i’m so scared of girls who are nineteen
what do you do when you feel like you’re not part of the scene?

they walk on eggshells
and i dont know if i should take offense
cause i think i am the same as them
only with a full-time employment

god i wish i could be much more
than a girl who’s already twenty four
they shared stories of nights they won’t remember
and i just listened, quiet, a little envious, tender

i wish i went to parties,
and mixed tequila with martinis
stole a bottle of whiskey
and did other stupid things

but here i am, in bed by 10
writing another badly written poem
could i still live the life i lost
and if i did, at what cost?

take me back to that moment in october,
when we first met and everything was newer.
and if it wasnt for the situations and orders,
i knew we could’ve, would’ve been something better.

and take me back to that moment in july,
under the streetlights, there were stars in your eyes.
exchanging stories and banters and smiles,
i haven’t felt like that in a while.

i wouldn’t want to go back to october
because that’s when i knew that it was over.
i didn’t have vices, i never was a smoker,
but you had me wondering if i’ll ever be sober.

and now, it’s july.
and though you didnt say goodbye,
and although you’re long out of my life,
you still cross my mind from time to time.

four white walls and a crooked ceiling,
there’s nothing more than a comforting feeling
all alone, inside my room,
with nothing but me and my favorite tunes.

in this room is an archive of my existence,
from my clothes and random collections.
where i felt peace, chaos, and sometimes both,
where i felt company while being alone

and i love my color coordinated closet,
and the curtain that was once a blanket,
i love my frameless bed,
and my white makeshift desk

i might be in another side of the world soon,
and this will be just another room,
but right now, there is nowhere else i’d rather be,
than inside these four white walls and a crooked ceiling