Is summer at end?
Dark clouds are forming over my head. Thunder roars to tell me you are out of my sight. A lightning strikes and as I hide under this rock, I pray you remain alive.
Help. I do not think I may get out to face you again. A wild animal corners me and it has got me thinking if you would come looking after me. Should I scream for you to hear? But, I do not wish for you to come out of sympathy— do I still love you, I mean do you still love me, do I?
It is mid-summer yet we are under this storm trying to survive, perhaps it is only on my side. I apologize, maybe the insect bite had me hallucinating that this no longer has anywhere to go. Stupid insect bite.
2024
The GreatLess Writer
I hate that
you are not the same man I loved
and I am not the same woman you also loved.
It hurts not knowing what to do
when it is our first time
experiencing something new.
Must we all change.
First times suck.
He wrapped his arms around me as he took his little nap
then my breath came heavier than it already was.
Little did he know I was at the edge of wanting to let it all go,
to free myself from wanting more from him,
and to stop whatever this is between us.
Of all the times I thought of cutting the ties,
somehow this came out to be a little closer– a little braver.
Out of the blue, tears began to escape so I silently wiped it off in hopes it would not land on his skin– not to let him know what I hide within.
I am so scared that I can’t even say how and why I love you,
not even a single word that shows my love for you.
Time check, 15:42
2024
The GreatLess Writer
I was right when I said
I will be the easiest thing you can let go of.
Am I though?
Look, a tear from my eye.
No matter how angry, hurt, or sad I am.
You know your way in.
You always find a way in, effortlessly.
A smile.
A look.
A you.
I hate how I can’t even hate you when you’re in front of me
and only be brave when you turn around—
for me to say what I’m feeling.
How many more times will you make me have to say I love you
after almost drawing the knife through just to rid us—
then you said one can never rid what’s meant to be there,
you with me.
2024
Occasionally. Special Events. Less.
January of 2023,
when alcohol drowned my body
I’m sorry, it wasn’t the alcohol, it was me.
If alcohol could cloud my reality,
then it was worth the try
However, it was also clouding me.
My heart felt warm, but my soul was cold
I did what I can, they helped all they could
I was an addict, for pain, for alcohol, for pity.
All my friends tried to pull me out
All my family could not even say a word
All that I came home alive, all that I am fine.
I was not fine. Never all right.
They smiled at me ‘cause I seemed normal.
Alcohol was my resort,
when I could run to no one.
But that was a lie. All along I had someone.
They knew my name, they saw my works
An invisible string, an invisible perk. Love.
2024
The GreatLess Writer
she had always lived in silence
and she’s left wondering
why your love has to live in it too.
You tell me that you love me
like you say you’re welcome to a stranger.
Have I become one though?
Today I drank alcohol,
only to be haunted by how you’re out there
forgetting that I am thinking of you.
Alcohol can’t even drown the thought of you.
Man, I love you.
Badly, in love.
I woke up inlove.
I’m still waiting for you too,
Please, wake up inlove
— with me.
2024
The GreatLess Writer
The devil lingers by the healing miracles of Archangel Raphael,
when the heavens kicked me out I pulled one string from the harp
and since then I have been holding on to potential redemption,
at least a bit for my heart.
Humans love him for he is the messenger of compassion,
but can a devil love him too?
Could that be a way back to heaven’s front yard with no caution?
If my touch darkens the soul of people,
then could an angel resist my poison to prove that I can?
or will he die too the same way they did when I kept trying?
The string thins out as it carried my weight through the years,
he held out his staff and whispered in my ears
“i love you, i’ll be with you until the end.”
but that was all before everything,
right when the devil loved the angel.
when I no longer wanted to linger by him
i fell back to hell and be just everyone’s devil.
2024
The mind is the devil of my existence.
Daring me to jump into the pit of darkness
not just darkness, our darkness, yours.
My heart fled long ago, the angel of life.
I wonder how even in this darkness,
a touch of softness lingers.
Does that mean my heart fled to live in you?
Making it harder for me to climb up the pit
since with you there, unknowingly, is a part of me.
2024
The GreatLess Writer
He made me smile the best,
he made me cry the worst.
He is different from the rest,
and wonder why he is not like most.
He has his heart glued to mine,
Even before, I hated my smile,
but he earned to see that portrait
as if it was worth millions of dime.
love,
the smile owner.
2024
The GreatLess Writer
Babe, stop treating me like shit.
You act all head over heels for me
then out of the blue turn to have gone as my Achilles heel, please.
At town awaits the broken traffic light,
now, how do I cross the street?
I doubt you can if you were me.
Though, I bet you’d cry
if you saw the bullets you planted in me.
The green light changed back to red
right when I was halfway there.
Stupid red light,
not good enough to make me stop
running down your block
even if the cars are barely gone.
I’ll cross the street when it’s empty,
but next time I hope you’re out there waiting for me.
So that I won’t be reckless enough to risk
and be hit by a car just because I loved.
2024
The GreatLess Writer
The sun had set into a fading view. The third sunset I have witnessed inside the four days of no contact– since the day you turned to be like the sun, only in a stormy month. It is odd how it left no colors as it usually should.
Your woman sits here alone as the wind blows the sand in a direction that messes up her hair, an event where you would usually make ten times more romantic than the view itself just by sliding your fingers through her hair– making her feel more like herself.
Two young couples giggle in front of me, I am not quite certain which is more upsetting, the boring color of the sky or the ringing sound of their laughter telling me how pathetic I look suggesting that someone must be sitting by my side– and you are not.
Well, your mom asked for a meal earlier and I proudly rejected though I hoped it would make you miss me more. Seeing how I am alone here now punches me with the fact that you do not, but I really hope you do. Please, do.
April 2024
The GreatLess Writer
The day after I wrote with a fading ink,
I cried and broke for God listened to me.
My heart reached out to its abuser,
but my mind rented out a slot to some crematorium.
God, please, he did.
He slid his fingers through my hair
right when I guessed alone at the beach
when we finally met that’s what he did.
God, please, he did.
He missed me when I prayed to some mannequin.
God, please, he did. Oh, God.
Have I been pulling you into my wrong decisions?
Have I been loving him more than you?
God, he said he missed me.
But four days he managed to live free from my grip.
I hold tight to you when he lets go of me.
I run back to you when he won’t seek for me.
Oh, God, please, he did,
He said that he loves me.
He loves me so much like he’s teasing,
He’s been this way ever since.
Is this your way of torturing me?
For I love him better than heavens give.
He stabs me but it’s so romantic
I bled too much it looks like roses.
Oh, God, please, he did,
at least he clings like a leach.
April 2024
The GreatLess Writer
Deep into the mint forest lodges a well.
Faint, sunbaked, and pallid.
At dawning, trees fancy the sun.
When gloaming, creatures praise the moon.
The forest never spares the heart of intruders for it never knew how it works and of what was within— care, kindness, love.
So, a lost spirit he trapped in the well for a year as curiosity grew in him. “My true love,” he says as cries fill the well, drowning from within.
And, when tears overflowed and made his flowers grow, came the moment the minty forest decided to love her enough.
The forest turned into a man and traveled far to meet his beloved spirit, little did he know as he kisses the night, he was brutally bound to meet the lost spirit who already had enough.
The magical well of tears will always wake the dead soul of love, either the dead love of the soul. Nevertheless, once awoken, it will suffer to wonder where it had gone— the one to love.
Because at the end of it all, to finally love someone enough is to grieve for the reason why they had enough, bleeding from trying to escape denial.
The sun, the moon, the fig trees— all shall point at you, shamelessly.
April 2024
The GreatLess Writer
it’s summer enough to faint
but your cold enough to numb the wound away
well, my father, he never was around
so why do I cry
when you're nowhere to be found
who borrows a sweater mid summer day?
and smile at your mother though we're not okay
who brings you home
when your own lives with ghost
who held you that night while
we waited for the lights—
to come back, can we go back
far from mid summer game
summer nights are not cold
but i'm on fire like you curse me
when i'm with you, you could
but you’d rather not miss me
summer days are going to waste
you're going ways too far away
to hate me loud, is that your game?
am i allowed to do the same?
can we go back, far from mid summer game
the heat melts my name away
from you heart, from your mind
God, should it be this hard?
love me right 'cause i love you fine
mid summer game is now like the snow days
i'm melting away though you're cold
this love's too young yet acts old
you've gone forgetful though
so, where was the promise you said to hold?
April 2024
The GreatLess Writer
build a wall so high,
find you a stubborn man
hard as rock,
too special to hand
he walked right in, or did i?
either way my argument has none
persistent to threaten me, to think of all i could lose
hands up so high against a loaded gun
up the wall he crawls like vines
dominating through time
either way it’s mine
the stubborn man who never does much
he already gives much
talks much
loves much
hence, stubborn enough to not leave
and stubborn enough to love one like me
April 2024
ysa ‘s poem
Once he admitted,
I felt my heart slipping.
He constantly lied about something,
one my mind constantly could not stop burning.
The smoke that clogged my lungs,
was killed by someone's truth.
Ashes traveled through my body,
and over my head he loved me.
Once again he said sorry,
I just could not believe how it happened
How I almost believed after months of asking
I was about to kill the fire,
but with the violent gust of the air
ashes flew around for this despair
The puzzle piece finally appeared,
and you said you couldn't handle if I disappeared
but how could your guts hold it all in
after lying for months trying to convince
you were always gonna have me
but your fear only made me angry.
i was to love you said, and you are too
look at what you did, nevermind, i love you
May 2024
The GreatLess Writer
He said not to
make me cry anymore
after the last time
but I held him again with tears staining his shirt.
He promised me that he was sorry,
but I really hope he would not be sorry for his promises
because i know how much that would hurt.
May 2024
The GreatLess Writer
alcoholic behavior offends my lullabies
asleep in his arm as they write on my thigh
some reasons need seasons that unfolds my civility
if i were loved the way they say then should it be all in the lies?
your sympathetic gaze won’t ever have me tamed
my love for him is whole but my patience seems to fade
the way this all should be is what he’s giving me
after all he tries his best as i lay down to rest
your sympathetic gaze insults my tired heart
when i carried the weight alone you though that wasn’t hard
when i sat to take a break you broke the bottle’s neck
pointed the myth at me, that i’m trying to bore him
your sympathetic gaze made me want to cry away
i am rowing the boat with him
it just felt different the more he did
made me feel like i was something to keep
when all i felt before was being hid
finally, my sympathetic gaze wraps him back into my arms
as i stare down on my vandalized thighs
it is always the nights that revive the brightest lights
if i were loved the way you say, man, i’ll love him starting today
i’ll engrave it all around my eyes, my thighs, my life.
May 2024
The GreatLess Writer
repeatedly announcing, silently
the forthcoming of the chafed event.
our chamber of writing releases smokes and ashes
dead bodies of romantics are burning.
did you accidentally build a crypt beneath,
and transformed my skills fit for a mortician?
am i handling you professionally?
welcome to my newly built crematorium.
my pens and papers can’t make a life for us anymore
can’t create a world in this limited retort
with this heat and dark walls,
i don’t think there’s still life for a writer.
the chamber of poetry was burned for remodeling
the purity, the awe in me, the love you lit within
you had it all but demolished and rinsed my operable debris
of life, of faith, of us, of trust..
so i sit and dress dead bodies of my romances
and wish dead all the romantics
to bury their chances and avenge my nonsense malevolence
for i cannot kill you physically without torturing me to bits.
May 2024
The GreatLess Writer
Here comes the anthem of this love affair
at least one i considered ever since then.
secured my insecurity in a hidden cage
undo my doings of killing my will to be fair.
welcome to my secret lair
collections of drugs, first aids, and blood bags.
try to find keys that would help you unlock
the safe of my pains and their graves.
once you open the vault,
i bet you would not believe
when i promised i buried it all too deep
and said it's already past me
and i'd apologize again and try to be better in gaslighting
i'd burn the flame way too bright to blind the truth and your eyes
i kept the corpse after our prayer to guide the spirit
i couldn't let it all just go so for months i hid it
permission for this intermission
with the mission to prove my conviction
wait, could you listen to my silent screaming
can you tell me i'm lovely like heaven
am i pleasing to look at?
this dead body with a pale look has my longing to be good at
hypnosis and have people yearn for what i have.
she's dead! everyone knows that
i'm me! but why don't they know
how i feel when everybody asks
"what happened to the girl he used to show?"
i can't help but be proud at being the mortician
she's dead but they rudely haunt me instead.
don't blame my lifelong contention that threatens your attention
and loads my gun with remorseful intentions.
should i move to a different company, leave her to be free
they will sing to compare me with the dead body they used to greet.
will they ever get used to me?
how much more do i have to give?
May 2024
your breath smelled like apple pies
the reign of relief after a long, long time
take part in baking this box of trials
i stand on dive boards to kill my denials.
the flour of truth had hit my eye
had long been rubbing to get a better sight
is this right? have i turn kind?
for i could not remain in the grave of my disgraces
once again proclaiming that you are mine.
apple pies, come give delight
had long been mine
this lovely shrine
the smell of apple pies
could it have brought you back to life?
May 2024
in exchange of your belief
must you check what’s left of me?
will you get mad for this
i know it’s bad and i admit
but he does not open up
he said he didn’t know me enough
i cried a dam in front of him
what the fuck does this guy even mean?
i learned his stuffs and his foreign language
i knew less of the things that he wanted
he made me spot most details about him
so what if i mixed it with my imaginations?
i love him, i like him, he made me cry again
i’ll kiss him and tell him i wanna grow old with him
but what if i’m lying to hold on to some promise
this guy made me want to burn to ashes
i’m ruining myself again
i’m standing on railways for him
he said “marry me, i won’t make you cry again”
then later on he’s wiping tear stains, ladies and gentlemen
i’m breathing smokes from my burning heart
i’m so in love but why is it this hard
he makes me laugh without even trying
is that why i’m out here, again, crying?
i prayed a lot, i begged
until i stopped and said i would not marry him
i just could not believe that i threatened him that much
he started bombing me with love and assurance
he said “but we promised to grow old together”
now he’s attempting to know me better
would i still marry the man who made me stand on the railway?
what if he’s saving me but i’m pushing him away?
so i’ll pray
on railway roads
May 2024
when did i stop writing love poems about you?
why did i stop relating you to flowers and garden too?
what did you do that my mind took control over the wills of my heart?
is loving me that hard?
no, trust me i know but i still don't know.
my body happens to be running out on serotonin and oxytocin.
how's the trip going?
how did i stop being so in love with you after just few of those storms we threw?
you have become someone i constantly associate with rains, thunders, and graves.
my heart still beats for you, my happiness still roots for you
my smile still clings to yours, my skies are cleared by your love too
it just so happened that my rains are here to comply to the seasons
i was born by the graces of storms and quakes.
even my birthdays never had sunny days.
oh, how selfish of me to have never asked you if that's okay.
are you fighting silent battles whether i am still worth of your time?
well does that make you hate that you're still mine?
will my seasons drown your farms?
should you run away from my darkness?
these seasons of mine throw deadly ice of spikes
it insults you with crimes that never had been done
there are delusions through the mist so be lucky to miss
'cause once i'm calm and you're offended
you're still the man that i'll miss
someday i will surrender and that's something i fear
back in time we lived in pinky promises 'til i lost all of my senses
will you still come running down to me with all our memories
trust me, i love you
and i doubt you're fine with me doing this to you.
we built a house and you found shelter
i left home and brought us torture
all our walls are standing strong
but my bruises makes us feel wrong
my rains are nothing to you
but you're prone to sickness
i hate goodbyes so you never said it
but you can leave now while you still got time
sooner or later tornadoes will drag you here
and you'll hate this version of me
then you'll be regretting everything.
i'm letting you know, but i hope you don't go
i had never been this loved by time
it was always too short or just never mine
but while you hold my hand i'm a season who cries
'cause at least for once i got a year by someone's side
if you ever never fit
into the standards of destiny
i'll be this way for years
i don't mind if they'll all go against me
if my heart beats with all of your footsteps
and they all hate that you're tied to me
then i should sit and just stop breathing
carve the proofs onto all of their ceilings
so when they sleep they'll remember me
have nothing to say that who he loved was a shame
but i really hope you stay
even if they attach "crazy" to my name
my seasons will end soon enough
will you be there to witness?
pinky promise?
then he said "i'll always be there"
May 2024
and, once again we're mad at each other
like ignoring alarms and sleeping in dreams of fakes.
one more foul to count, one more penalty for me.
i guess we won't care that much, right?
it was just a bad day..
but, i bet we'll be here again.
how do you rid sudden disappointment
one he gifted me with the moment i sat like an infant
unable to move and think on my own
and when did he hate my melodramatic hum?
i grew in theaters, battles, and got used to shots of gun
marching sound of armies and even exploding bombs
the comfort these noises made me one of a record tape
i play to set the scene on how i can make anything so dramatic.
then one day he claimed that it ruins one's day
i could not believe he loved me for what he now complains
my melodramatic hum stopped calming him down
for i started screeching unaware that i made bleed his eardrums
look at me and tell me how you still see
i'm not fading away just exhausted in some way
smile at me and hug my demons
are they waving at you and somehow it soothes your wounds
did i make you bleed too much this time
all i'm thinking of is "am i still loving him right?"
this is my fight and i'm taking it with my soul
what if i'm bound to literally be your fall
would it still be my all if i fail to give it all?
May 2024
he knelt down in front of God’s throne
oh, how I thought how he must have felt so alone.
I had been decoding him this long,
but, never did I know until I saw..
he prayed like he just wrote three pages for a bible
if only he did that then I’d know what’s in his gospel.
will it say that there are ways
to escape my deepest sins?
will he preach how demons shift
like their love is here to save,
like my love will bring him grave than grays.
so, what if i prayed to love him better
and he had summoned the angels to take him away.
so, will my prayers come a little sooner
but what if the angels already carried all his weight?
as all the people in the chapel sat back to their seats
i felt terrible as he was the only one left on his knees
‘cause I knew that I would never learn to be good in decoding
hardly when he thinks it would all turn out to be my burden.
so, i aim the arrow at the reason why he feels that way
but the water mirrors how i’m blind to see that it’s all because of me.
did I push him hard to think that love is only understanding things
so bad, he didn’t want to talk right after i trained him under silent scenes.
all i know is that i’m everything he needs right by his side
but he knelt like my demons needed to be exorcised
not by priest and exorcists but by God himself
so what’s left of what i knew was that i was worse than the demon itself
hence, throw me back to old, abandoned shelves.
May 2024
i’ll be burning the lawn behind my crematorium
it was grave for my thoughts that liked one-sided forum
the sun wouldn’t even shine
as the crematory i built stood too high
twelve floors to fit my employed prides
along with my anger and delusion, then more pride.
throw a cushion ‘cause i’ll be moving out
i’ll sleep in your arms as i have been too far and i’m not proud.
i don’t even know what to say
i hate it when i put it all out too simply
i don’t think i can even write and finish this poem
man, how many poems have i ended with “i love you”
scared that i’m making it sound too bad, boohoo
how many poems have you read about how proud i am that you’re mine
is it twice lesser than the times you made me smile?
even the dictionary lacks to top my love
see! love is so overrated, i’ll find us a word that makes us so happy that we’ll cry
this is an absurd poem
my excitement was too much that i wanted to rush
for you to know that even the poems of worst that i wrote
are better than how they describe our love for us
blah-blah, i’ll kiss you once i see you
bleh-bleh, i miss you
oops, wait, i found a better way to say it
i’ll carry an umbrella over your head the way you did on my rainy days
does that rhyme? all i know is you’ll hold me tighter than a snake does to kill its prey
the only difference is it’s ‘cause you’re too happy to have me and not hate
and i bet for the hundredth time you would say “marry me.”
and it’ll come with “please” and i’ll say “one day, i will.”
‘cause three years of knowing you
is equivalent to the nights i had prayed to God too
so, i’ll write as many poems as i can,
may it be with pain, anger and love.
9,952 words written in this book, did that surpass the word ‘iloveyou’?
i bet i’ll reach 15,000 words too. one for love, five for trusts.
May 2024
butterflies, hadn’t seen one for a while, same with you
though if i could draw then you’ll be painted perfectly fine.
kites, had only been seeing them up the indonesian sky
had been daydreaming about us each time i see one
about how one day we’ll both be here with our own design.
am i delusional for imagining that far?
they believe in gods and goddesses
soaring up high to connect and give thanks
fly one with me, perhaps the spirits would also believe
us lovers can also bring harmony and prosperity
they offer to gods all the time
i’ll offer my faith if it is to be paid with the rest of your life
does it already sound like a punishment to you?
i pray my love is rain to your dry seasons.
if there is no reason left for love
at least watch me build my own prison
treat me as a convict; my final option for reviving us.
the seas of balinese are as blue as the sky
i’ll be here even if it is the bluest nights
that exists, i just know, even if the hottest and freezing winds blew
i know, even as a small peck of dust, i will choose to be with you.
i fear heights most of the time
how beautiful the view you had shown me
the cool breeze, the great hike, the peaceful trail
i pushed myself down your cliff to prove that i can commit love crime.
someday, i’ll be back in Bali
the roads may all seem different by then
but the soul of my love will feel familiar to this strange land
‘cause nothing feels strange when it’s with him.
June 2024
i want to be home, somehow not feel so alone
life had been heavy even with gelato in the flavor of peppermint.
sometimes, i feel ashamed for the cause that it must really be me.
personally, above all else, this affair is my unprescribed medicine.
a sick woman sits in bed assuming love can heal
who cares, anyway, a crazy mind just worsens through time.
the drugs can slow it all down, nothing else to anticipate
never hope for change, never wish for history to be made.
no one believes that this is all about time
either make life or record cries.
lately, the stars had been hiding from my sight
so instead i run to admire glistening planets in his eyes.
the village cursed the delusional witch who thought herself so smart
to tell the story, it is a story none even knows how to start.
all they can recall is the fall of it all
how the witch dug her own hole for people to constantly watch her crawl into.
she felt like an animal that people could hunt down for years
but they never really used daggers, only flames
the fear caught up to her that she had wrapped herself to danger
like poison ivy, her mind intoxicated every last bit of innocence.
today she wandered the island like a statue
known but never really the story behind.
the man he loves admires her like antique
not too soft to touch, but hard-bitten to forever keep for life.
not everything is up to anyone’s taste
but anyone can choose their own ways.
a crazy mind will find a stable love
crazy love will find a capable mind.
June 2024
when scared, i tend to cry
i have lived in fear more than happiness.
when happy, i tend to think how lucky i am that you are mine
i live in love more than fear by then.
i’ve never seen a snow ever in my life,
but with you i feel like i never have to
all because it is already a life satisfaction to witness you.
the aurora borealis seem pretty awesome too,
badly wanna see them,
only if you let me go there with me holding your hands, in love fools.
too many of my dreams are fulfilled
magically when you came to live life with me.
come, take me away,
somewhere lame, somewhere far
we can walk or even steal a loser’s car.
skip, hop, leap
turning into a cherry when you kiss my lips,
head, shoulders, hips
you are an express way i would pay overpriced toll fees.
did you know, i never really liked pinks
you did, since then i started ordering strawberry drinks.
one artist fallen to paint between my knees
brushing through the beauty of romantic human beings.
i prayed to god for this moment to watch cupid’s arrow fly
deep love satisfied the birth of my commitment and relief
June 2024
midnight poems
can’t recall how much there are that i wrote
he misses me so much, i do too.
dreams are to be seen and when in love you take it all freely.
no how about's and no what if's.
Being in a relationship that revolves around the moral of support and growth while being a lover who also believes in consideration and fairness somehow creates a conflict about your stand as a lover. There are instances wherein you are personally there to witness an achievement and promotion for your partner and you do not feel emotionally connected to the milestone. There is the thought of defending your side as a lover against a part of you who thinks practically.
“I’m so happy they are making themselves proud and busy” one would think this as the practical version of oneself, however for the lover side one may think “Wouldn’t this change our schedule?” “What if this keeps us a little apart?” “How about me?”
This is such a strange circumstance and feeling especially for someone like me as I love being a lover girl who spends enough time to fulfill my romantic dreams, but I also want to be practical in such way that I prevent my personal and slightly selfish reasons to step on the platform in order for my partner to feel seen, acknowledged, and loved. Thus, there will be times where it will be draining because being practical sometimes mean sacrificing the satisfaction of being one human being and the freedom to love, to bond, and to live in an area of lesser pressure and expectations.
That kind of practice develops our respect for personal boundaries, but I also feel like growth occurs but so does distance and weaker force of connection as moments are spent more as one grows as an individual. There is nothing wrong with independently living a life, there is just this realization and fear that maybe if one, like me, keeps tolerating the idea of just being supportive then there is a possibility of abandoning the fact that you also have a partner and a love to give life.
It’s wanting to be there, but also not wanting to be just left there—
acknowledging, applauding, and mostly waiting
will not be a plus one to a party I am a stranger to, please, not again.
June 2024
for once, i found something i can own
my man, my soul, my home.
not something i can also share,
that love before wasn’t good enough for keepsake.
this time he holds me with care,
not like a cheap plastic cup to throw in a trash.
a place where i can eventually grow.
constantly living the
dream i never dreamed to torture me
recently he built a room
hang new vines that were somehow poisonous
but miraculously flowers bloomed
as if it insults how much i’ve grown to be a fool
so i’ll sit here and watch how lucy grew
how she found a closet for all of us to hide into
was i too young to understand and am i too old to finally know
when everything is too much i disappear and dive
into a world that people always misunderstood
when i’m with him i don’t have to hide,
but lately i’ve been wanting to
my palms dropped all the seeds
there all the disappointments grew.
whoever knew, this is what i was always meant to do
deteriorating inside the chamber he had renovated
self imposing to think my colors limit to only black and white
somehow fantasizing an admirable moment of me
later on think his pastel paintings only melt 'cause i'm here
June 2024
it is about to end, the month of all curses
lately, i had been looking at pictures frame
lately, i have been feeling a love so lame.
my heart penned the third vow,
one from a year ago
two in two months of not wanting to let go.
i dash to that garden when our rented space is filled with blights.
my fingers touch an unseen justification for my devotion
a face of the man i loved,
and a scent of how great i was at loving.
yet i sit in my room in bewilderment
is the flame of love still lit or has it been dying bit by bit?
again, the three vows remain patient for you
hoping for once you’d figure out something on your
i still believe in fate,
thus stumble upon it as soon as you can—
as soon as i can still wait.
July 2024
one more month to have, one more year to add
if by some miracle you decide our love is odd,
call me and ask why it is you whom i run to.
your smile scratches an itch in my brain,
the kind that specifically fades when you come close.
ysa, had always lived in dresses and hate,
jhayson, came to undress the latter and coat with fate.
these people seem bothered by our absence,
little do they know we live by the opposite-- beyond them.
i could have said behind,
yet beyond seems powerful enough to weaken their judgment.
the longest i have ever been in love,
the toughest i have been in preserving what i have.
you made me, and i am you.
December 2024