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.