I knew, since the start
True ones don't let you down.
I must praise your toxic art-
Of tricking and blinding what is real.
It almost made me accept the deal,
Until I found myself healed.

And see,
That I meant so much more
Than spending my whole life under your toxic core.
I’m glad that the second I heard the taxi horn-
I got in and got home.
Cried, cooked, and realized:
You're not worth a tear; you're worth nothing.
It was then that I grasped-
It was my pure intentions that made you everything.

I already knew since the start:
The true one for me wouldn’t let me down.
Moral of the story?
Good riddance and good lesson.
You're at the age where you should have a son,
And it's high time I took my light back
And became my own hero
When I cannot see the sun.

Morning light breathes
life into every flower

reflecting odd geometries
that follow me hour to hour.

Between each step scattered
on the coniferous ground

are my dreams forgotten
inside a still, dark pond.

Searching noon for new eyes
is the easiest task, I feel

when one forgets
what isn’t real.

And as I kneel at dusk
with pockets full of daylight,

uncertainty shields me
from the river trailing behind,

a devouring gush of blue moves
inside the chest of twilight

and all that I held dissolves
into a thousand new eyes;

and all that I fear becomes
what brings the night alive.

I am a fool to think
I ever walked alone,

for you are everywhere—
and you are here too.

Only a certain eye lets me sleep;
one remains open to slowly

recall where to begin; opal
veins that become like a wild sea

course with a stream of stars
from these wounds widening.

Something more real than I lives
in the abyss that pulls on all things:

and yet my soul glows brighter
when it is darker still.

I still hold onto your fantasy in my head tight.
Can you feel the memories at night?
Or are you completely alright?
Do you replay every detail in your head, too?
I believed in your potential even if your damage grew.
I realized they were always there, the clues,
A part of me still wants you to remember though, just for the sake of the blues.

I guess there was no way clear,
Your voice's still ringing deep inside my ear.
I know it'll pass and i'd be healed,
But i can't help and peel
My lips, when i think about everything,
Will we ever get closure or just nothing?
Guess i'll get my tea,
sit on that breezy balcony,
And try to do nothing.

It's 3 A.M. again...
The night's silence feels like a scream.
I found myself analyzing, once again.
Stress makes my skin itching
Till I let it bleed, bursting.

Disappointments from unsuccessful attempts calling,
Waking my buried feelings, making them digging
My wall that i long tried to built strong

I can feel the sun's plans to rise along
After that, perhaps i'll hear some chirping from birds' songs
And maybe then, these feelings will be gone.

I'll let myself fall into dreams-
A chance to run away from real things-
Until I find myself thinking:
It’s 3 A.M. again...

Every mistake I’ve made feels as heavy as they made by 100 men
And maybe when the clock hits 6,
I can finally sleep by then.

I lay with the stars around me
Most of them passed long ago
Like these thoughts of mine
Scars in the ether of the mind
Each lived a life of its own
Maybe died and was reborn
But as far as you and eye can see
They've left us with a sleepless night
Enchanting as they may be
Like the mesmerizing ripples of the sea
Deep down inside
Bewitched is what's left of me,

Yet up words i shall subside
Clinging to what's left of that mind
Eyes closed fists clenched
Blanket gets heavier the deeper i sink
What's left of my hopeful breath loses
Weighed down by my burdened head

If its rigor that aids the ascend
Then harshly disciplined we shall be
If its misery that makes the steps
Then weeping through it we shall climb
If it's time that runs out like a breath
Than like the stars we shall light up the midnight sky
And if its death that gatekeeps life
Then I am indeed alive.