tristeza

Sadness is a puddle

I found myself in

drenched in the middle of a down pour

as I smile, eyes closed

not in joy but I indulge

a pain I struggle to kiss



You were walking in front of me

as I tailed

as you were leaving

lacrimal drainage is only of a consequence

respiration, absorption

what the heart feels

a sound amplified through the layers of peel

it was audible

so much that I had to tell you



She oozed like a tidal wave

denied sound of the cause and effect

she stung so fiercely that I can only immerse

my other kind of euphoria

I am sad



Extra mechanisms should halt

sincerity leads my steer

I sometimes wonder where I stand

soul, heart, and a pair of eyes

you know me too well, I fascinated



as my sadness overflew

Closer

I am here

just as you are

I believe the collision of molecules did take place

when you think of me

it wouldn't harm if I were not to know

like how I do it, maybe

buckets and buckets of thoughts

silk-like

brushed on my skin

when you decided to drop by and say hello

when wrapped with that identifiable warmth you exuded


I wish I could see you

have you held

manifest affection


say no more

I am here

just as you are

My skin is soft as yours

Tillandsia L.

Once there was a girl

tripped all over a boy

begging him to love

he stayed untouched

an inequivalent state of a tug of war

dark over light

sun over moon

unrequited 

I am a story teller

I tell stories through my actions, not words

a mime, or a clown

inward, essentially 

I love having stories collected

secrets on a deathbed

obsession of ideas of the obnoxious

love notes dispersed with the wind

enthusiasm concentrated at the front of dilated pupils

I pocket them soundly 

into my bloodstream, my rhythm

My collection of stories don't recycle

they emanate with my being

as solemn as a vampire

as flamboyant as Gothic architecture

I believe I've always pulled off a good show

my prospects well entertained

some stayed, some came back for more

they only care to be amused, and delighted

you see

My stories need not to be told

It is what I do that matters

sometimes when reflections overlay, I overspilled, side tracked and

started feeling for myself


I became an audience for my own fable and

empathized,

sorrow and ridicule of my own

every time I do,

I feel like dying


just so I could be given a new life





Helianthus L.

When she talks about him

her eyes sparkled

her thoughts so fluid

her body expressed

organic, altogether

there's no need to hide

you know what they say?


she's in love

I can hear you breathe

We tend to bloom, beautifully

when silence seeps

I guess that is how it is defined

our relationship



Sometimes observations don't justify

the ready made, the instant

resolved to a compromise


no

i refuse taking steps behind

the thawing subconsciousness could be revolting

iced with a sceptical interpretation



Maybe you loathed it

that's why you remained silence

so say we tend to bloom when silence interfere

dissected an awkward philia, of irony


I can never see myself in their shoes

hers and his

just because I am fond of you

is that so?

aren't all of them fond of you too?



I guess that is how it is

our relationship

空房出租

墙角自个儿的背影

你在偷笑

镜头加个伴

笑的喜悦

打从心底



与你的最爱

乐在其中

是自由 钦佩 挥霍

你的模拟 你的选择

你翱翔



我应该像是住在你心里

三个月

那小小空间

和你共眠

租金是肉体与精神

因为 爱  情绪

太珍贵

（你必须应该会  识破我的借口）



有一天

如果你走了



就让我心酸一阵子

哪怕你不再回来

残月

花裙  有着恋的情节

今天的双重角色

可以蚀自己

也可以被你 轻轻地褫



这个双重身份

走了白天夜晚

场景  好比在那公园一样

我披上的是  黑皮夹克

打上窄领带

等  在长凳上  所谓

期盼的到来



是我搞的古怪？

你依然不见踪影

无法相遇



离开时

回头望

一个铭记在心

Wilt

lights on

She was wrong, it was deliberate

how can I ever express disappointment

when you have nothing to begin with

it would make zero sense,

invalid

you want it vague, you want it non-conventional

you want to cut yourself, you bleed

you immerse in torment, intense, in vain


remember, void


I remember





lights off

weakening, dampened

I should have listened, your intentions

known better - a hideous expression

I didn't come to make anyone a fool




you can murder me

quietly,

thunderously

necrophilously



a secret I shall keep

hush

I wilt in the dark

you can trust me

Nonlinear Narrative

"...he has a mind of his own"

said she, eyes looked away.

Took it quickly, with a smile.

A slight gaze of melancholy.



So much resemblance, when actions were mimicked

as sunlight got reflected from side mirrors

to the grapevines

heat trapped all in a ball, air so humid

voices and the bodies of one and another, connected and re-enacted,

soccer match cheers and barbecue parties

this sight before me,


I didn't run away







calm and soft,

amongst the worldly vibrations, perceptions, interceptions

I think of you

gently, surpassing all dimensions

I'll hook your arm and

walk you home

to see you fly

of which you belong to

Time Warp

You (must have) had a very, very kind heart


you still do

I furrowed





You (must have) came a fair long way

masked your face with a thousand appearances

     murked your features so no one can tell

feels like I've known you for the longest time

though I don't remember you being aloof

     consistent with a form



can I bathe myself in your history,

then your vision?

I can then mend your wounds, nurture you strength

give you love






your earth-toned shoes don't even look the same from those years

of course they don't

change is inevitable






I fought for light years

to see you again

traded treasures, memories, an eternity

finally, timely








I was told that we could fall in love again

Melodious

Then fingers started to tingle

body cries to be cracked

joints on the back, the limbs

would you be kind enough to have them identified?




You parallelized with my voice

not a dual tone,

but amongst the conversation between my body and I

where space was only meant to fit

        a being of solitary, fragmented solitary

non-intrusive, guard shed



was it the very image

like a spell, cast from a green of a rare bred

computerized when we first met,

coded and carved skilfully, as if designed as an implant


or was it all only played on the screens of the mind;

the abrupt enemy




Such nights

I wonder if you tried to have thoughts conveyed

as I did when I had you acted out, a character

to keep me shielded

from the oust of one of reality's take

extracted from the book of infinite hypothesis, probability






As she peeks

page two hundred and seventy one

a short fable flipped


you're here with me in my arms

you hum me a lullaby,

as I kiss you goodnight

No Sugar Added

Chasing your footprints as I pant

every time you leave

I chased as if its the best of me

picked myself up as I fall

inconsistency and fluctuations

No hesitations, as I chase






I would

kiss your forehead as you procrastinate

tuck you to bed if you had a bad dream

anonymously

just like how I had that moment frozen

having you all to myself

parted from a glass door

no judgement

no slither

no satire

an audible heartbeat






All I have to remember is

how it was

when we just stood and watch each other

Disability

If (R)omance is a fabrication, rooted out of the basic frame of human emotions - 

It is the by-product of capitalism, consumerism, perhaps, The New Hollywood. 

Not love, we are all born for love, just romance.

Lounge music played, progression of chords performed but to soothe your ears, a convention.

Wine glasses cheered, candle lights, an ambiance reproduced.

Her conversational eyes and a smile of sunshine - no money can buy,

his suit and tie, a reflection of honnête homme

selectively, we chose to be.

As classic as it is, we sing praises, write of poems - exploit art, via expression. 

A treasured vehicle, we claim.

Structure, is what I gain from my education of sociology. Mass produced is what defines most of us, even emotionally.

How true am I from my core, that speaks none of mimicry and imitation.

Unidentifiable, therefore not a standard.

I am born normal, physically and outwardly a norm.

Less do I know, of which that cannot be seen, is left to be discovered.

My disability, for instance.

Albeit an ardour for love.

Correlation

I took a stroll into the woods.

Deep breathings exchanged, steadfast were my footsteps. The sound of a drizzle took over, clearing the thick haze that was lingering. 

There were whispers, murmurs about exploration and being lost. Some gave warnings, threw cynical laughters, imploded grievous cries. Dissonant noises hard to ignore.

I needed it, the rhythm to ground volatility. Chants to be sealed. 

I continued my stroll, deeper into the woods.

An audiation of the inner voice has taken place. The heart speaks, translated by the body, obeyed by the mind.

I saw it, upright, hiding behind an old oak tree.

I walked towards the tombstone.

Not a tinge of fear rose, but curiosity blossomed, like crawling ivies, all over the square stone. It was blank and solid. No carvings, no inscriptions, just dirt, maybe covered by some moss.
It lied peacefully on the ground. Alive, as if it was breathing.

Like gravity, I was drawn to it. 

Hauled, rather.

Is this where my heart pulsates to?

How long do we have left to live?