Can you feel that?

The quickening of my pulse against your mouth

and the shy flush, like a dewed peach, you said

sweet taste of budding lilies on your tongue

soiled with scarlet flames against my throat

"...?"

"...don't stop,"

My screams are drowned in your hungry eyes,

raven-black pecked with lust (or love?)

you trace my body with temptation, kiss my imperfections,

and i'm drowning in an ocean of fire, sin, desire.

"please, don't stop."

Letter 02: Your Crush

Dear You,

It has been a while hasn't it,

since the last time I dreamt of you.

But don't worry, you're still residing inside my heart

flowing deep in the crevices and cracks.

Love, my love, 

the-girl-who-wished-for-the-stars

Shall we?

cosmic clouds swirl around your pointed toes,

hues emerging as physical embodiments of your soul,

feel every particle vibrate with the pounding beats,

and let the rhythms keep your heart in tune.

dance the night away ma belle,

dance.

A heart is like a piece of paper.

It comes out white, pure and innocent. Blank to the onslaught of those around it. It’s defenseless--delicate, vulnerable and prone to be easily ripped, torn apart and trampled on. You can make a mark on the paper and the mark could be rubbed out with enough patience and time.But once you rip the paper, once you scribble on the paper with ink; once you cover the heart with blackened ink; once you drown the heart in blackened tears… you can never get it back the way it was at the beginning. 

It just lies there, forgotten, and once remembered, it’s ready to be picked up and awkwardly fitted back together again just to be torn apart once more. It suffers many wounds and once the heart has finished bleeding and crying out, it heals. But once it heals, it leaves a scar--just like when a piece of paper is torn apart, you have to tape it back together again and those torn and jagged scars will remain forever--an ugly reminder of the pain.

So how is it possible for my paper heart to keep beating?

We have to just keep picking up the pieces over and over until you meet that one special person, who’ll kiss the wounds better and heal it. The one person who will take forever if he has to, carefully piecing back the puzzle pieces slowly and surely with masterful fingers (so gentle, that it almost hurts) to glue the you back together until you're almost whole again.

That one person is out there,  

I just need to look harder.

Until then, my fragile, vulnerable and prone-to-be-easily-ripped-torn-apart-and-trampled-on-heart will just have to keep on beating.

Letter 01: Your best friend

Dear Best Friend,

You know who you are.

When the world spins the other way,

and we're thrown off our centers,

you'll be the first hand i'll reach for

because you always keep me rooted

so don't let go

ever.

***

Author's note: so this is a new meme i'm starting where one writes every day for a month as a challenge 

Uninvited.

he whispers to the holes in his heart,

and speaks to her residing in the dark shadows

of his soul.

He doesn't know how she managed to get in there,

but he knows that she got in.

She dreams.

She dreams of you.

She dreams of midnight walks along the shadowed banks where the moon ripples gently in the ever-changing waters. She dreams of awkward silences, fingertips brushing against each other hesitantly--wondering, searching for the warmth of each other. She dreams of locked eyes, the beating of her heart in her ears, the way your voice would whisper countless, no, endless promises and dreams. She dreams of the way your dry sarcasm and wry humour would make her smile--just a little before she gives in to full out laughter. She dreams of your hand brushing her cheek, soft skin upon soft skin, the tips of your fingers making crossroads. She dreams of your onyx eyes, boring into hers, gazing into the corners of her soul. She dreams of your warm breath near her jawline, as you slowly and fearfully move closer to her lips. She dreams of your gentle mouth encasing hers, wrapping up her fears and lust-torn desires in a blanket of serenity.

She dreams of happiness.

Stockinged heart.

Rip my fragile veil to shreds baby,

no, 

please, 

I want you to

it's not going to last much longer anyway...

not with you constantly peeking through the gaps

"stop looking right through me okay?"

Heartbeat.

I can feel your love

pulsating behind my sternum

and it makes me feel just almost

alive

almost.

Fragility.

look what you've done to me,

are you happy now?

tell me my love,

are you happy?

the smallest things.

"

i've never got the time to tell you this but,

you smell nice, like, really nice

"

it's sweet when someone notices these little things

about you that you've never noticed before

am I hoping for too much?

(pull me back down before I start defying gravity)

because his eyes.

dedicated to juniper

and you p a u s e

and you t h i n k

and you just s t o p

.

there are no more words/vowels/letters that I can use

to describe the way your eyes make my insides

flutter and my stomach churn like (just like that)

the washing machines in the laundromat

.

and you just p a u s e

only for a single m o m e n t

as you try to b r e a t h e

.

oceans of adjectives, synonyms and verbs

could only be washed ashore so many times

i just don't know how much more I could write

especially when you're the only reason i do

.

b e a u t i f u l

do you feel it too?

Her secrets.

Count her hopes and dreams reflected in those midnight eyes,

fragments of mistakes and past tenses whispered from the depths

look for the world and starry skies reflected in the abyss,

then look down to see her shattered heart glass pieces,

abandoned where her star crash-landed.

Yes?

Your eyes say you want me,

and love is magical you say,

but remember that magic can be an illusion.

how can I tell you that I'm going to break your heart

without actually breaking your heart?

Jump.

and it feels like heaven, the moment my feet lift off the ground

and all my worries, insecurities and pain gets left behind,

even if for a millisecond.

i wish I didn't have to land so soon