his name is a jumble of triangles,
circles and squares
when she wrote it on the first page
of the notebook meant for
her
    
she looked at him
a tray of seasoned fries shared
some old song in the back
singing about love;
of course he would know
    
he would crack a joke
a brief smile meant for her
she wanted to understand it
but she laughed, she was
laughing with him
    
endlessly the sound
replayed, over and over again
before she slipped into bed
and dreamt of a world
they live happily ever after
    
shy & quiet, she was
and he was everything
but
    
again and again
she wanted to know
if he felt the same
so hurry &
don’t leave
hug her before you go

In the quiet hum of a world that rushes,
Where footfalls echo on broken stone,
A voice still sings in the hush of hushes,
A heart still beats, though left alone.

Oh, cruel hands of time and trial,
They twist, they turn, they seek to mold,
Yet something lingers, tender, vital,
A warmth untouched by bitter cold.

The world, in its grumble, its clatter, its din,
Would etch its sorrow upon your skin,
Would carve you sharp, would make you steel,
Would teach you nevermore to feel.

But hush, dear soul, and hold your ground,
Let not the world make you unkind,
For in the hush of love profound,
Softness reigns, yet never blind.

Take pride in light the world denies,
In sugar spun from sorrow’s thread,
In laughter ringing under skies,
That some might call a dream long dead.

Oh, wear your sweetness like the dawn,
Let cynics sneer, let shadows call,
For even when the world moves on,
A heart that loves outlives them all.

Who hasn’t wanted to stop time for just a second?
Something fleeting — a moment, pure and simple.
The peak of life should be something we could wrap up and keep safe.
Everything passes — and most of the time, that’s a good thing.
But sometimes, it’s heartbreaking.
Not everything should slip away.
Some moments are so rare,
they feel heavy in your hands, like you could actually catch time.
But you can’t.
It always slips through — and like I said, everything passes.
A tiny fragment of time.
From Latin momentum, meaning the power to move, to shift.
And it’s that weight packed into small, passing moments
that keeps us moving forward.
Everyone has a moment they’d live in, if only they could.

Why cant I stop?
I fear
to have you
in my head.
I don't want you to leave,
Please dont go!
No worries, because
You wont,
No, on purpose mind you...
Just things remind me
of you.
And then you are stuck...
But no I shouldnt
no I really cant!
I need to get over you but,
I fear you,
flying too far away

You lay there surprised
Knew these things happen
And that you need time

In the grand theatre of our romance,
In this courtship of our growing love
—only your parents could judge me.

In the grand theatre of our romance,
When I unveil my authentic essence
—your weeping eyes continue to love me.

In the grand theatre of our romance,
To say you're the woman of my dreams
—there’s no rest to provide you with the
justifications to profess your love for me!

Love isn’t a romantic movie…

Please be gentle
It is delicate
It has broke for many times
You see the scar on the left
It is from her fist love
And this one right in the center
It is from her family
Please be gentle
I know it is not much
But that is all I got