I am a gypsy wanderer.
The only home
I have ever known
Is my body.
And I destroy it.
Those like me
Can never have a home.
So I fill my lungs
With cigarette smoke,
My skin with scars
And my blood with *****.

Why do people
Always leave?
Like how stars die
After lighting up the
Night sky.

I am the moon and he is the sun and when we get together we have bundles of fun

He doesn't read the newspaper or drink caffeine 'till he dies while I cook breakfast and fix his tie
I don't clean the house and ignore his lies while he's upstairs in bed with someone else's wife
He does however like to go on long drives, surf through the desert with wide amber eyes

I do conclude that I enjoy this as well, being in the passenger seat as the radio tells:
  Of the news you can't read in the newspapers
  The health hazards of drinking too much caffeine
  And the scandals that go on beneath politician's sheets

We like to feel free for a moment
Away from the commotion and buzzing omens
The people that say "It will never happen, you're over and done"
But I am the moon and he is the sun, and when we get together we have more than just fun

The first time he fell,
like a tree, he was felled, with
a strong tug, and, a light push.

The next time he fell,
from great heights, he was felled, by
hands, that lifted him.

The third time he fell,
into flames, he was felled, though
hopeless, but hopeful.

For he shall be a Phoenix,
dying in the flames,
and rising from the ashes
Refreshed, Renewed, Revived.

For Love, is but falling, rising
and falling again.
And again and
again.

Do you know of
the nights when
I cried myself to sleep?
Alone. Empty. Helpless.
With you still in my mind,
stuck in my heart, that same spot,
(Bull's eye!)
refusing to go.

I hope you know,
but
you won't, for you
didn't care anyway,
but
maybe you did,
maybe you know,

Do you know of
how chests burn and
how hearts freeze?
Hot and cold I am
everyday.
Everyday since you
left.
Cold eyes, cold heart and that
empty space.
****** away my soul and
left me drowning
the very place we used to
say that this would last
forever and
ever.

I hope you know,
but
you won't, for you
didn't care anyway,

Do you know the

No you don't. For you
never cared.
Even though like
suit and tie we paired
you
never cared.

But I still
do, even when
you don't.

And so you shall
remain stuck at
that same spot
a year ago when you
left
without saying a word.
Forever and
ever, you shall
drown
within me.
And never get out,
forever and
ever.

1. Perhaps you should reconsider wearing your heart on your sleeves- it is not an accessory. You are allowed though, to hide other things in its place.

2. Some were in it just for a good catch. You could let a heart slide out their hands like a dying fish, but never know if a tendon ever broke.

3. Do not use the term: bull's eye. You never could stand loud noises. You were more of a hunter, than a guns man, surviving on whatever spoils that crosses your path. Please do note though, that one man's meat may be another man's poison. Don't just stomach whatever you find.

4. But then again, a single bullet is all it takes to **** a person. I guess you liked it when these bullet fragments clung onto your insides like a barb, as if you were a lethal weapon to begin with.

5. Are you sure you want to investigate crime scenes? You might find his fingerprints everywhere.

6. Do not look for company. Misery loves company.

7. You are not a gemmologist; people aren't diamonds. Don't treat them like one if you are only going to end up looking for faults within them.

8. Never fall just because someone offered to catch you. You are not going to like the way he touches you. His hands will feel like a million ant bites digging tunnels under your skin; and you might just tear your veins apart by mistake. You will think you jumped into a flower bed but all you can mutter will be “rose with thorns rose with thorns” all over again.

9. When you find yourself taken aback by what you see in the mirror, do not shut the windows to your soul. They said to love yourself, but you can’t love something as hollow as those eyes- there is nothing to fall for. Pick yourself up before someone falls off the windowsill again. How long has it been since you washed these curtains? These cobwebs spelt out really bad memories that you do not have to be reminded of.

10. Do not try to play god. You can’t immortalize. You do not have that big of a hand to hold on to everything that ever passed by. Don’t tire yourself out and tear yourself apart. There are many things that you can hold and break. And if you are going to hold someone’s breath, don’t let go because they might never breathe the same again; the feeling of shards in your lungs should still be as vivid as the road signs that read “U-turn” before unfulfilled promises crashed down on you.

11. Do not take him as another one of your proses. He is not made up of words. He is a person. Remember that.

12. If you love what he loves, you will never love those things the same again when he leaves.

13. Get your feelings clear and save both parties the agony. It should not satisfy you to watch him **** himself while he lights you on fire; these stringers that says “be like drugs, let him die for you.” is just another bunch of filthy decoration.

14. Never. I repeat, NEVER see someone else in him. Never take him as a replacement.

15. Clench your fists till your knuckles turn white and your palms sweat out. Pick up these sands desperately as you might. Never stay with someone you never really wanted to be with.

It is out of habit for a poet to personify the oceans.  Write about how the waves kisses the shore each time the moon tried to pull it away; and then remind yourself how when hot meets cold, they're disaster-bound. Playing pretend was a habit of yours. After all, it was a form of survival- where you get the change in your pockets.

You were fascinated by how the conch seemed to speak in waves no matter how far away you were from the ocean, as if it never depended its beauty in the place it finds itself. Its emptiness allowed itself to echo its surroundings. And if you'd uncover what was buried, you'd think it be a chest- an empty one that will finally be tipped full.

When you mimicked the sound of the ocean, it couldn't lull me to sleep. It kept me awake every night for fear that I'd drown; see, your promises came like waves, with nothing in between. You gave your words away like the weight you had been carrying in you; and I almost thought you had spat your heart out in the process of cleaning your guts. There is so many things you poured out, and I guess I managed to save some- sorrow.

When it stopped, you spoke in hushed tones and it sounded like canon shots in a distance. They say you are a product of your surroundings and you are filling yourself with everything you can find laying around, stacked so precariously high like a game of Jenga- the thrill was in watching it topple and fall. These pieces never belonged to you and you still have nothing to give when you are growing close resemblance to a shrapnel shell. When you are at war with yourself, there is no refuge: dig a foxhole until it blows over and that'd be your grave. How do you hide from yourself? Scream when you listen to the conch again- it's the sound of war.

Break your habits before they break you; times like this, I wish you were an empty shell.