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Spread the sheets,
lay me down.
Set your position
Trace my body
Capture every
curve and angle
I come alive
with every stroke
From the table
to the walls
Make me your
masterpiece
Fill me in
with the colors
of your love.
Slowly,
deeply,
passionately,
finish
my greatest flaw
is that I am a poet
I am easily lured
by tragedies,
I romanticize

feeding on hatred,
thriving on pain,
investing on lies,
blinded by faults,
enthralled by you

my affliction
flows and ends
with ink,
lives and dies
with oblivion
Time pays the closest attention
He notices when
her wild buds bloom the fullest,
her songs sound the sweetest
her raindrops feel the gentlest
and so he knows
the subtlest change in her winds,
the way her trees sway a different dance
the way her waves inch a little farther from the shore
Time remembers what Nature forgets
As seconds turn into minutes
and minutes progress into hours,
into days
into weeks,
into months,
into years,
into a never ending spiral
of how moments
unfold and dissipate,
it is taken for granted
by the ones who need it most
It is fleeting yet infinite
it is inadequate yet overflowing
it is ever-changing yet constant
Nature paid no attention
to learn Time
She does not know why Time is silent
nor does she know how he is cherished
or how he is,
if he ever gets tired
or how much he wants
to give up
but just cannot
many have tried
to weigh his worth
and dwindle him into units
capture his vastness
and seal him in numbers
he was attempted to be kept
and that is how they lost

-iatb
your poetry
used to
speak of
her eyes;
crystal orbs
of hazy umber
as you crave
for her
cunning
glance
upon
your mundane
existence

your art
used to
capture
her hair;
the summer
threads of silk
every inch of which
you desired
to hold between
your fragile
fingers

your dreams
used to
remind you of
the way
her lips
curl to a smile;
you could only
wished
to be the one
behind it

she taught you
how to
crave
desire
and wish
i taught you
how to
compromise
many stories
beforehand
have warned me
about the likes
of you

ones that
brightly blaze
radiant
majestic
mischievous

ones you
should never
allow yourself
to come close
to love

but it was
cunningly
inevitable
our tale
of two

you were the sun
and I was Icarus
i was meant
to fall
for you
we are stuck
in a compulsive
conundrum
of being
simultaneously
one thing
or the other
always at the
mercy of the
benefit of the doubt
matters are
nothing more
than fragments
left to our own
imaginations
in constant denial
of the power
that rests
on our hands
the panacea
to all mysteries
left hanging
and when
we finally
muster enough
courage
to open the
hypothetical box,
we only find
ourselves
inside it
undecided
simultaneously
living
and dying
the smoke that
filled the humid
atmosphere
as i saw you
dancing with her

the pictures
i burned;
two years of
memories
now ashes

the graphite on
my fingers
as i tried to
recover you
in poems

the bags under
my eyes
as rest leaves me
the way
you did

the envy
i felt
towards myself
before i met
you
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