No other thing in this uncertain world
Tastes sweeter and surer
Than your name on my lips

A grace, undeserved
Bestowed upon me
For all the times you've held me

And I do not know what I did
In this life, or another
To be blessed by the heavens

Unsure if I was chosen somehow
Or by some stroke of luck
Came out from misfortunes

Given the sweetest grace
I am still somehow in doubt
If I am worthy

But deemed so by your touch
Igniting everything in me
And I am alive, living finally

Maybe it is true
That mercy changes you
Because now I have been renewed

And if this is a mistake
Against the world and all of nature
Then it is one I am willing to make

You have been named after fate
But in my mind
I call you sweeter things

You say that you cannot see it
And maybe so, maybe it is me
Because lately I have been realizing

I am the one who is lucky

here i am again
reaching for hands
i am commanded not to hold
dreaming of just
a whisper of your touch
and again i ache
a hollow space in your shape

haunting everywhere i go
i try not to search for you
dreading my impending doom
the moment i catch
even a glimpse of your ghost
mocking my mortality
and yet possessing all of me

and god help me
because i cannot help it
a willing captive
fully at your mercy
and i am afraid for my being
because even ensnared
i wish not to escape you

blinded by your light
i mistake you for heaven
i am waiting at your gates
saying all the prayers
begging you will bless me
with an eternity of your love
if only i were worthy

and here i weep
because what use is all this
i see you and i sigh
keep myself at arm's length
because it is not enough
and it will always be like this
i'm too much of a romantic
to see things clearly

do you remember when we talked
about the capacity of our hearts
how it can be bigger
than our own bodies
capable of swallowing
entire galaxies
like a sun
exploding, burning
devouring everything
in its wake

when we wondered, desperately
where to keep all this love
inside of us
threatening to spill
everywhere
anywhere it could go
if it had a place to stay
and welcome it home

when we recounted histories
of loves lost and found
of foolishness and folly
of hearts breaking
with the magnitude of earthquakes
shattering into the debris
of our memories
only resurfacing if
they are dug up
with tender hands

when revelations were spoken
recognizing all the mistakes
naming all of the hurt
one by one
and saying,
"i've known you"
and it is beautiful
all of it, the whole of it
some sort of sobriety
after what feels like a lifetime
under the drunken influence
of our hearts

in another universe
there would be versions
of ourselves
who have chosen
to be content.
but here,
here
our hearts are bigger
than our bodies
and they can break
with the magnitude of earthquakes
and in our stubbornness
we will choose to hurt,
to ache, to yearn
and yet
we will always dive heart-first.

i'm beginning to think i'm more hurt than i've allowed myself to feel.

there seems to be no words anymore.
whether beautiful or painful,
they have all become a blur—
smudged ink on paper.
what feels like my own handwriting
i can no longer recognize.

when did i write this?
poetry—
i used to believe
was what saved me.
but what happens
when i run out of words?
and yet still remember
how "love" was spelled so similarly
to your name
that i could never have told
the difference?

i cannot hold a pen anymore
without wishing
it was your hand in its place.
but it's empty,
this page.
and yet,
somehow—
i'm still bled dry in the end.

i have saved a place
for you in my heart
and it may need
a bit of dusting
because my heart
was never clean
and it has long since
been empty
the day you walked away
but please know
that i have saved a place
for you in my heart
tell me when you're ready
because if i'm honest
you've been welcome
from the start

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a ****,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.