I could possibly make myself stay — when there isn’t a place to go anymore. Maybe in the poems, I could show you how butterflies dance when they weren’t supposed to every time I see you. Maybe in the poems, I could tell you more about how sad songs turn you into a lullaby baby…
Read moreKeep that friend…
… who let you wear what you want for she knows you are comfortable with it. Keep that friend who buys you food every time you are craving or you are just hungry. Keep that friend who will get drunk with you and listen to your dramas until 6:00 AM. And keep that friend who…
Read moreIs it a faraway place?
I’d still think of a place where our poets hid a secret. Is it already the place where our poems never fall out of words again? I don’t know, darling — I’ve never been to that place either. – El
Read moreHow did I even become a prisoner of your yesterdays?
Today, I’ll stop sending letters and vintage photographs while pretending that I’m still in the ocean of your smiles. Today, I’ll walk away and never look back to the things we used to talk about but never made it to the horizon. Today, I’ll think about how loving myself feels much more than just loving…
Read moreNew Normal is Abnormal
I’m sick of it Clothes and fabrics Covering a masterpiece But I don’t have a choice What’s happening to the world? People are too careless Do heads produce saliva? Eyes got no brains Wrong…wrong…wrong… Don’t make it upside down I can’t leave this sick town Even if I want to see the dawn – Kath…
Read moreI would gladly accept…
…when I see you with someone that was never named like me. I won’t write about you anymore, and that’s a pinky swear. But, please, don’t you ever visit me again in my dreams because you no longer exist in my memory. You are a past life, a once-upon-a-time but never again, and a ticket…
Read moreI am not just made for promises.
I am not a bounty human who absorbs everything the universe could give. It could be darkness, a sparkle or a crescent feeling I never had before. You see, I am yet the ordinary, an invincible lover you’d meet. I don’t care about butterflies circling on other people’s stomachs, tears falling down because of a…
Read moreLet me color your world dear.
And it’s okay if we sometimes use our wrists as a canvass. It’s okay if we hold the knife as if we’re pertaining to the finest brushes ever made. It’s okay if we cut our souls out, get our hearts tattooed with flaws, fail and fail all over again and love like it’s always our…
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