The fear of you noticing me
Noticing you
The fear of you leaving
The fear of you merely passing by
The fear of you disappearing so suddenly
After coming by so often
Catching me by its anticipated yet still tragic
Surprise
The fear of you being annoyed by my uncontrollable infatuation
The fear of your smile fading little by little
The more you see me
The fear of you evading me altogether
The fear of never knowing you

The fear of my regrets
The fear of my loneliness
The fear of my hollowness
The fear of my fear
The fear of living so empty
When once I was so unbearably fulfilled
Though even those happier days were spent with a fear of
Losing
Still I have to live with this fear of bareness
Of a soul
That once adorned a jewel
That was so wonderful
All it did
Was to incite fear of its loss
And in my foolishly tight
Protective grips
It has shattered completely
Leaving only a naked melancholy
reminder
Of a fear of love that once were.

The worries
come on the walk
back, melting
together like ice
in the glass:
I'm missing
something,
& what pieces
remain
are broken,
& that I am
never in control
of it.

The sidewalk is one shadow
on top
of another,
on top
of another,
all the way back.

No, you don't
see a thing,
I'm sealed,
a sarcophagus,
a remote satellite,
the flood
is put away
as neatly as
a magazine
on the newstand.

I make another
oath, to pry
open the tomb,
to speak with
a mouth
like a glen,
to accept
that I am not
my parents
nor the drift
of their silence.

The sidewalk is one shadow
on top
of another,
on top
of another,
all the way back.

Silver-sided rattle,
a humble streak climbing
the hill in small doses.
Blue teardrop seats,
steel and yellow poles,
broad-eyed windows that offer
the view of things that the subway
will never give.

I've seen fistfights,
a baby born, overdoses,
old women falling asleep,
old men screaming wordlessly,
junkies scrambling for pills
dropped underfoot,
tourists grappling with the geometry
of this unknown language,
all of it.

Vibrating with a menacing stumble,
it attracts everyone. It promises
a view and a destination.
It's better to go through the world
than to sink below it.

As I look into your eyes
I see sadness from within
I want to drift it away
cause I wanna see how bright it could be  

I know your happy now,
but I want to do something to make it happier
I wanna stare on every laugh you make
in every time you blush without noticing it

In every stories you wanted to unfold
I will listen little by little
because I wanna continuously hear your voice
without thinking that I might fall deeper

I wanna endure everything
no matter what will be the consequences
I'm willing to face it
without doubt

I wish I could tell you this things
but I'd rather be unspoken for now
until time is ripe
and till then, please don't hurt me.

the most frustrating thing
when it comes to a writer
is when everything
every word, every letter,
isn't enough to give justice to
the captivating picture of you
in the afternoon:

soaked in sweat,
grinning foolishly,
striking up a conversation
about coffee,
and how unhealthy it is
for me to drink
three cups straight,
to stay awake,

yet the bittersweet taste
stains my lips.

it spills down my throat,
covers my lungs,
and drowns them
with the addicting aroma
of coffee beans
and lazy dreams,
until i cannot seem
to breathe,

and the only thing
i can ever do
is to spill ink
for you.

Hold my drink as I take the stage,
I drink too much, more than I gauge-
Hold my lighter, cigarettes,
I'm dancing for the strangers' gaze
Watching me, watching them,
Throwing my head for a good time
Only a good time

Before we leave, slow dance to Bowie,
You don't know the words but I
I know every instrument
Could that be what you meant
When you said "I love you"
And I'm freaking out on your
"I love you"
Because

I get it if this night was enough to
Throw you over the edge into
but I'm still stuck on a preface,
Preface, intro, first chapter
Did we even open the ******* book, dude
I just want to
Fall into the music and I
Can't back out of your confession so I
Said I love you back. Before you could ask.
If I really meant it, I'll just pass out and

Then you can't ask me to say it again
Maybe I can just pretend it never
Will happen again.

Noodles and broth swirl
With specs of oil and vegetables
Around with a turn of my fork

The air is stale and stagnant
Only an occasional rush
Of a breeze comes down from the entrance

There was no one else in the shop
A small ramen pop up
On the edge of the subway platform

People walked busily
Back and forth, up and down
To their trains and cabs above

I couldn’t say who any of them were
But I was fascinated watching them
As I sat and waited for her

I’m sure she never even left
She was probably still in the keys
On a pontoon below the afternoon sun

With the wind in her hair
And some one else’s arms
Wrapped about her