It's really strange,
how your heart could make you feel so deranged,
it's a fist-size muscle,
yet it can give you so much trouble.

I felt the world go silent,
somehow, inside me my heart's defiant,
I touched my chest with my palm,
I can feel it shouting, it is never calm.

I closed my eyes to feel its rhythm,
waiting to understand its symbolism,
And when my eyes were awake,
I know then, that my heart is an earthquake.

It was on September first,
when I first listened to your voice,
It made me feel an overwhelming thirst,
To feel the heat, I didn't have a choice!

You started out slow,
talking as if we're centimeters apart,
Then you suddenly Growled,
the desire scattered in me like abstract art!

I didn't fully understand it then,
How I reached for my shirt and then lower, near the hem,
My skin looked like marmalade,
Your moaning voice is a bittersweet crusade.

I felt like you were whispering in my ear,
making sounds that I didn't know I wanted to hear,
you then shifted your pace,
it took me awhile to realize that this was a chase.

It felt like both of us, together,
soared high, into the sky,
making thunderstorms and any other weather
not knowing that your last moan was actually Good-bye.

I thought
every word
every phrase
every thought
that got you amazed
set your heart ablazed

was written for me.

I guess
I should've read further on.

I want you to remember me,
not just as a Memory,
but as Poetry.

No, I don't want you to only remember,
I want you to feel me,
feel the curves of my free verses,
listen to the rhythm of my sentences,
see me as well-written images.

Touch my soul,
decipher my core,
Grasp my all,
Tell me that you need more.

More of me,
More of Poetry.

I get all overwhelmed when there's too many people.
There's too many feelings, too many thoughts,
That I wish I could feel, I wish I could read.

Too much voices, forcing their way in my eardrums,
demanding me to listen.

This is why I hate crowds,
This is why I value solitude.

My heart can never contain too much of things,
It just doesn't know what to do with it.

My palms, aren't wide enough for something too monstrous.
My lungs aren't big enough for your tornado,
instead of filling me, you're actually suffocating me.

I'm not asking for everything,
But at least, give me **something.

Then he said,
"You don't have to restrain any of your thoughts from me.

We both could be Victims of the same sin."

I either love
with so much
Intensity,

or
I don't love
at all.

I cried when they said,
You are carrying something special.
Inside you is something,
Someone, who'll be someone's
Best thing that's ever happened to them.

But I am crying,
looking at you like lost potential,
looking at you like a pathetic failure
looking at you like broken futures
like a bunch of black holes, instead of dazzling supernovas

I am crying,
shouting at the world,
thinking that this is sin, since it's not
the right timing.
You promised me a future,
of success, of diplomas,
of infinite careers,
but then they said you are,
carrying something special.

I cried,
I thought it was for your mom, for your dad,
for you little brother who looks up to you.
But then I realized that it was for myself.

I am a selfish *****, I knew that.
But it never felt more real,
than the time the first drop of tears crawled into my cheek,
then unto my neck, and slowly disappeared into my chest.

Dear, you're not
Lost Potential
A Pathetic Failure
Broken Futures
A bunch of Black Holes

You are a Dazzling Supernova.
And inside you,
is a surprise, but not something to hold you back,
I'm sorry if I made it feel
Unwelcome-d

I'm sorry if I made it feel unloved,
unwanted.

The sun in the back of my body,
filled with warmth and loveliness

The moon in front of me,
filled with light to guide me in darkness

The Oceans of infinity,
filled with life and mysteriousness

The Air that I can hold on to completely,
filled with fantasies and much dreamed sweetness

The Earth beneath me,
filled with purity and calmness,

The Fire inside me,
filled with passion and radiance

I love you,
the kind of love
that I don't understand
the kind with
no explanation

I shouldn't
but I do

The kind of love
that is locked inside our phones
to be sent via messages

The kind of love
that only breathes on our What Ifs
and is dead when confronted

Are we scared?
Not destined, maybe?
Why can't I seem to stop?
You remind me of everything too much.

What if We loved,
the kind of love that makes all things possible?

You
always
leave
...
You're
about to,
again.

I ask you this time,
**Please, stay.