At first her mind may seem to be a clutter of astronomical objects
with planets sprawling all over,
nebulae birthing everywhere,
stars tossed in random directions.

But in truth, it is not.
Staring into her eyes is like drowning in the vast galaxies,
suffocating due to the lack of air,
but doing so voluntarily.
Her mind is a beautiful collection of constellations falling into place,
with perfect planetary alignments,
completed with the most beautiful nebula that God handcrafted himself.

You see, she is just that fascinating,
you just need to look a bit closer.

We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.

You started an insatiable fire in me
that burned so bright
being fuelled by feelings and emotions,
causing the stone cold,
ice hard frost that previously encompassed
my heart to melt.

But oh my god,
it hurts.


( v.w ) 760°C

The moon cannot shine in the dark
without light from the sun.

And I really hate to depend on you like this,
but my heart is left in little fragments,
and my mind is a tenebrous void
which I'm subtle to falling into anytime.

So please come back
for only you can null this feeling,
for there is no me without you.

do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.

MY EYES ARE STILL BLOODSHOT SINCE THE DAY YOU LEFT.
AND ***** STILL BURNS AT THE BACK OF MY THROAT
FROM ALL THE FUTILE ATTEMPTS TO DROWN YOUR SWEET NOTHINGS THAT I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON.
YOU WERE MY MAP AND NOW I'M
HOPELESSLY LOST WITHOUT YOU

It's not much of the
missed calls and unanswered messages.

It's just that at 7am,
when the birds sung,
it was almost as if they were mimicking your voice.

At 3pm,
I was searching for your face
in the oceans of people.

And finally at 2am,
instead of drifting to sleep,
my mind drifts back to you.

Then I thought,
missing you is the most divine way of obliteration.