i should be studying and

your name finds itself onto every page,

scrawled in messy italicized ink

the "i" and "you" barely legible

[ you always said I was childish ]

I love it--your disapproving look

it makes me want to smoothen your frown

and whisper secret languages into your lips

[ Accipe me sicut sum aut antique me ut inventisi ]

ink seems to be permanent.

What more do you want from me.

i take your words and run them down my face

every punctuation drawing rivers on my skin

you kiss the bruises sprinkled along my arm

like newly born stars--one wish per day

[there's a nebulla of expectations in my heart

a n d

i'm running out of space]

I suffered for you,

is that not enough?

Palette for thought?

i want to paint my own dreams

across empty canvases of opportunities,

but I have limited tubes of colours

and mixing them just ends up looking dirty.

[ "On second thought, that looks pretty good." ]

"Yeah, it reminds me of me." 

Worshipping.

fingers carve initials into the window

and she traces every angle of your face

oceans pool in her porphyria summer eyes

silent prayer nestled in between her lips.

waiting for the one you love was never easy,

neither is waiting for the goodbye you know 

is on the way home.

Hexa-novel 01.

Hello familiar stranger. 

Goodbye my love.

You are.

You're less than a breath away

s o

i plant whispers on your cupids bow

and draw dreams on your collar bone

love never felt so close to my heart.

Goodbye forever.

i'm tired of waiting--

counting coffee stains on checkered tablecloth 

(red and white never goes out of fashion, 

but you knew nothing about fashion.)

watching my own reflection on empty beer bottles

(you've always liked Heineken,

so i've always liked Heineken.) 

and watching the hour hand wash across numbers

(Damn thing's broken now anyway.)

it's time to let go.

Tarot Cards.

I met this girl once,

said she could read my future,

and I saw stars in her eyes.

"thanks, but it's alright, 

i'll shape my own future."

Illusionary.

[ m o n o l o g u e ]

and one'd think that maybe,

maybe, if i find that other half who's made for me

and i confess to him all my secrets, all my problems, 

everything in my life that went wrong, all my dreams,

all my ambitions, all my of my soul,

he'd emphathize with me. 

Then maybe that empathy will change into care, 

then transform into love.

"But then he'd probably realize that you're broken.  

And then he's find another girl, who's not broken. 

He'd find another girl who is perfect, just like him 

and maybe even better than him, but definitely, 

definitely more whole than you are. 

And he'd realize that she comes without problems, 

and he can just love her for just being whole 

and he'd leave you, imperfect and broken."

...but maybe, just maybe,

we could be imperfect together.

Far Away.

there's an ache in-between my fingers

begging for your warmth to seep through the gaps

and grasp on tightly, bruise me if you wish

but i just need you right now,

in-between me.

But...

[m a y b e]

i never deserved you

[m a y b e]

she's better than i could have ever been

[m a y b e]

you belong with her

and

[m a y b e]

you belong with me too

Porcelain.

They gave her perfectly sculptured legs,

and taught her how to walk

in their way,

and

in a way,

they taught her how not to walk,

but rather how to      

r        u        n

yet they kept her from running

"my legs hurt, can i stop now?"

there's a cra ck in her mask

and a hole in her perfectly sculptured heart

stitched together with expectations

"i didn't even know I had one"

Suffocating.

you're all words 

&

each curling l e t t e r has a home inside my heart

i can taste your k-i-ss-e-s on my eyelids

and they force themselves into my dreams

you leave me breathless -- gasping for air

[ guess what? ]

i don't know how much longer i can stand,

 not being able to breathe around you.

Moment of silence.

I think he's beautiful when he speaks.

"Life is all about taking chances," 

ocean eyes promise the birth of summer.

"It's all about taking that journey... 

thin lips curl up at the side,

with someone you love."

I think he's beautiful when he speaks,

even more beautiful when he smiles.

Tearing me apart.

you're a woven web of carefully-picked-chosen-by-me images

a little frayed and stained on the sides 

but still perfect none the less

and i'm the solitary polaroid, shredded and torn down the middle,

with a not-so-perfect rip

[ it's not so clean, you know? being broken? ]

Dead Muse.

its draining out of me and onto star-plucked dreams

w o r d s

limitless in the chasm of recollection

yet finite on bleached documents

my ink is running dry,

and so are my 

w o r d s,

and it scares me because

w o r d s 

are all I have.

simple words.

i strum my guitar strings

you pluck my heart strings

and kiss my sore fingers better

[ "do you like this song?" ]

Mermaid.

and you're aqua,

b u t

the swell of the tides are never as soft as her breasts

milky-foam chest rising and f

                                     a

                              l

                      l

              i

      n

g

like the gentle ripples

elegance never failed her--the simplicity simply illuminated the night

the crescent moon seems to giggle at you

with a cheshire cat grin

&

who could forget her laugh?

the sweet bells that led men to madness

dragging them under to effervescence slumber

[ my smile is a little  o f f  don't you think? ] 

She is.

She's b e a u t i f u l,

illustrative strings of librettos waltz on starched paper

from underneath chapped lips and ink-stained fingertips

she passes time counting the caress of the second hand

eyes as empty as the broken glass-face.

a name is sighed,

and suddenly mud-dull eyes become burnt sienna:

love, fire, flames of desire sear at her irises

melt a hole in her icy walls and suddenly,

Pièce de Résistance is rekindled.

i stare at her script,

and i become green-eyed

[ she is everything i'm not and everything i wanted to be ]

* Dedicated to Juniper, my dear friend.

Burn, burn.

glazed eyes 

stare right at me,

[ i love you, i hate you, i love you ]

i can hear his heart throwing itself against milk-white cages

letmeoutletmeoutletme o u t

he doesn't move this time.

As I turn away, I hear his china walls crumble to dust,

"Look at me! Don't you dare look away!"

i see fire.

Masterpiece.

i am fra gile and o p a q u e

but under your nimble, experienced, time-worn fingers i've suddenly

-transformed/bent/folded-

into a work of art

[ just another piece for your gallery ]

I am Gaia.

I can trace - Orion - in your eyes

&

your lips whisper cosmic kisses 

&

your body promises a way 

o

u

t

fingertips trace shooting stars on my skin

in between every luminous dream

and i press my wishes against your chest

* * *

[ o n e ]

be the incandescent body to my emptiness

[ t w o ]

illuminate my way through the belt 

justthreesimplesteps

[ t h r e e ]

and let me curl up beside sirius

because i'm nothing but a dwarf star compared to you and i'd like to feel appreciated once in a while

***

don't burn out yet, 

there's still more than just the heavens to explore

Bookmarked.

"i see you still fold your pages"

"how else will I find my way back?"

you are written in

a million different languages

on faded, tear-soaked sheets of

w  o  r  d  s

&

[images]

and though i can't understand it completely

- time reminds me deciphering every message is useless -

it's still beautiful to me.

Picnic in the sky.

you're [ s t a r l i g h t ] & [ s t a r d u s t ]

& even if you were nothing you'd still be everything to me

the celestials surrender to your radiance

and leave teardrops in my hair

you're beautiful when you speak

"Alyssum "--you whispered,

replacing the petals on my cheeks with your lips.

i'm in sheer rapture, disorientated, but,

[ - let's get lost together - ]

i can find home mapped in your effervescent eyes

I'm no Picasso.

and you say you love the way I 

b r e a t h e

the secrets of my soul onto a blank

and watch the stories bleed

and force itself in between

every single stroke of hued aspirations

"oh dear, you smudged it."

"it's okay, i'm full of mistakes anyway."

Adieu.

"Why did you go do that?

Why did you have to do that to me? Especially now, n o w, of all time?

Can't you see that you've messed with my mind? 

You CANNOT do this to me.

And now I'm stuck

in this crumpled, broken mess of thoughts  that i'm forced to awkwardly fit together?

In this complicated mess of problems and calculations i'm supposed to pick apart?

I'm a mess now, 

and the saddest part is, I don't know what to do anymore.."

"...i'm...."

"No, don't. 

You've said enough for now.

Couldn't you at least have waited?"

Secret Meanings.

and every word i inscribe

[foryouaboutyouisyou]

are whispers of my heart

spilled onto pages in blotchy ink

-because i'm not perfect-

my love is overbrimming

Trauma.

your ocean eyes asphyxiate her,

ruthless possession and violent passion rakes across her skin

drawing lines of scarlet and tears

and she's like the e m p t y spaces in between sentences

-stabbed repeatedly with punctuation-

and the weight of his words left her:

colorless--carnation cheeks have fled long ago

(though sometimes i see a flowering bruise on her sternum 

looks like your fist, strangely)

but she still loves you,

she says, with a sterile voice.

and i can hear my heart crack.

Butterfly Effect.

something is keeping me holding onto

n  o  t  h  i  n  g

and I think it's you

but you've always been a bit of a perfectionist          (?)

butterflykisses

(kiss me and take wing--flyflyfly to neverland)

will you bring me with you?

 - to the mythical gardens of Armida

illusionary enchantments and seductive songs

glittering milky way eyes, bright as the moon

that wanes when I cry for you -

there is no moon t w o night.

Siren.

there are images carved behind these eyelids,

you burn in my bloodstream like wildfire,

enchanting me with your aria, 

please, i need to hear you.

step to me.

and i wait with bated breath

for yours to waltz across my skin, with light steps and pointed toes,

choreography always left me breathl e s s

yet I'm in s.y.n.c when i'm around you--withyou

maybe this tune, this passionate tempo is meant for us

"Amor caecus est, follow my lead"

and maybe your fingers are meant

to be curled around mine.