Stuck

I'm stuck

when your eyes met mine

and how instead of looking away

they stayed

I started to eventually

see myself in you

waves of warmth swept gently

onto my shore

taking sands with them back

deep into the ocean

only to wash out more of it

for me to build a bigger castle

there is a reason why time exists

he said, it is for us to slow down

to enjoy every bit of the baby steps

every sip of carefulness in our laughters

every sigh in every absence of

each other's presence

so we can cherish the moment

it tricks us into thinking it stops

the whole world tick as usual

moving in its own rhythmic routine

I started to eventually

see myself in you

when your eyes met mine

and how instead of looking away

they stayed

I'm stuck

Liability (ii)

just like how an author has this tendency to become more poetic when their feeling goes unrequited, longing for something that is way too far to reach somehow appears prettier than it is to be together with someone that loves you more than you love yourself; as in being pointed out for your flaws gives you this weird ecstatic sensation of self cautiousness. shouldn't it be a good thing, though? knowing how crazy your hairs look like when you wake up would always be adorable in their eyes, and how those weird group of moles on your left cheeks would make the prettiest constellation? he once told me, that my boring brown eyes were so clear he could almost see his own reflection. no one sees me that way before, turning my shameful flaws as their own lines of poems. it had always been me, a poet who romanticizes even the stupidest heart-broken tale ever. maybe this is how it feels like, being the subject of a literature. it feels scary, it frightens me, honestly. and now that I am on the other side, I wonder whether or not it is the same thing that caused the others' disappearances. maybe love, for them, was too much. maybe love too, for me, is way too much.

Teenage Fantasy

(i)

streets we walked in

pavements our heels stomped on

flicked pages against our fingertips

sips of coffees and exchanged glances

you.

(ii)

warm mugs against our palms

stolen kisses that tasted like

the chocolate we just drank

the cold damped ground we rested on

you.

(iii)

whispered sweet nothings

as we danced the night away with

nothing but hums of off tune melodies

that sounded too close, too real

you.

(iv)

his replacement

your involvement

my damnation

you.

Winter, Don't Slip Away

i've been outside lately, enjoying the change of season where, finally, the nights won't be as cold anymore, and the trees won't be as dull with blooming cherry blossoms, a touch of pink in the midst of grayish brown the autumn left on the leafless branches.

for a moment, things turn out prettier that it had been the past few weeks, the wind is still blowing as hard, but the sun shines bright every now and then, which makes even the chillest day tolerable somehow.

i've been getting better, you know, at ignoring the longing, but tonight, as i curl against the last string of coldness, i choose to look back. despite all of its odds, this winter has brought warmth to my chest, and somehow, though it's standing right in front of the door, gently knocking, i'm not ready to greet spring just yet.

Memories, they take so long to erase. Will they ever even start to fade? I'm on my way. Just not today.