[AS OF January 14, 2016, 1:45: I haven't finished any poem at all for the past months and yeah, I did attempt a few times but I've just lost all motivation to write poems and I loved writing poems but now things have just been so depressing that poems don't even really entice me anymore??? I don't know, it just felt wrong one day to write poems. It felt wrong to think of words to put together or maybe it just felt wrong to think of people then hurt. I don't think I will ever be able to write poems ever again, I've just lost all my will to, but I'll leave my poems here and on tumblr, and wherever the hell I put them, just in case people might come across them and read them and think, hey, I know this feeling, whatever.]

I know
it’s like getting hit at 120
waking up a week later
with fractured ribs,
a cut in my skull,
a feeling of uselessness in my limbs,
and a chronic mental trauma
meanwhile
all you got are
****** bruises
caused by the airbag that at least
saved you despite that,
a dent in the quarter panel,
minor damage to the bumpers
and it’s all ******* covered
by an insurance company
the headlines will be filled with something
like reckless imprudence
resulting to physical injuries
but you won’t need your lawyers anymore
because I promise you I will take the blame
anyway

Though you are
all the reason behind
this mess my heart is
enkindling in my
thoracic cavity,
you will always be
my only calm after
the storm.

Inasmuch as I want to
completely detach you
from me
I can not

the same way I couldn't possibly make
what we had-
what was there
down to the dusty pieces-
any less sweet
because when I opened the door for you
and I was greeted by gentle 7 am sun rays
that were all you
I knew starry nights couldn't compete

the same way I couldn't possibly make
you choose to stay

Now what of you
from a place in my memory
from a memory in the past
from the past I barely remember
anymore

Is there
any more you will be to me
than a phone number I cannot call
than a photograph in my computer screen
than a newspaper article I've read and reread again and
again

Are you more of a loss or
a gain- like the profit from falling for love
and the debt from falling apart
in love
and all its constituents from
butterflies to monsters
to daydreams to tear drops to
fireworks

Because this want works like
fire works
to burn then burn out
but never like the fire in your eyes
of passion and compassion
that builds fire then stays
burning up
unless in exchange of more
match sticks you have for
today

Will you forever be a thought from night
to day
from all the merriment I encounter
to all the melancholy after
a thought I'll remember
more striking than a bad news typed in
boldface

This might be like all the others where I put on a
bold face
to pick up one by one
the torn pieces of hope I set up way too high
but not to fix any part of my heart
fully secured
from similar events from before
tick tock tick tock
there, like time, like them, off you go

Off you go