Nightime thoughts

I wonder what it was all about

Late night conversations that lasted ‘til 3 in the morning

The way we traded stories and you were never boring

The way we talked about our childhood pipe dreams

talked about life outside our spectacle rims

I found out we were so different to each other

Yet we liked the same things one way or another


What was it all about

When you smiled at me with a smile so genuine

My expectations slowly turning sanguine

How I saw you were breaking your boundary

Over our frolics we grew merry

How I came to putting down my walls without a clue

And I was just happy with you


I need to know what it was all about

When we hung around each other

One day and every day after

How the stars became romantic at night

How you caught me in one sight

And I end up contemplating

how we once were and not the ending

Walls and pavements

It scares me

to have that someone who can look at you as if you could not be more complex than a jigsaw puzzle.

That someone

Who is able to turn the little things you have told into pictures and puzzle pieces. That someone who tries to figure you out. Right when you taught things were hard, it scares me to have that one person unexpectedly come and laymanize things for you.

That someone who can view you as a simplified equation even after you have painted yourself with strong opinions just to cover your lack of factual knowledge. That someone who sees your lapses, knows that you are an erroneous problem but chooses not to count you as an invalid question. That someone who instead looks at you quizzically and corrects the wrong parts so you could finally be solved.

It scares me. It does. To have that someone who got you “all figured out”.



Scars are just scars. They do not hurt any more. It is always the freshest wound that hurts most.

Scars tell their stories and it is those stories that hurt; not the scars themselves but the memories brought about when you emotionally rip off that patched up mark on your skin to have the scenes of your flesh and his flesh on the same setting, replayed on your mind.

Sometimes. Well. Sometimes.

Sometimes we do not need someone to erase the scars. Somehow we do not even feel the need for someone to serve as our vent. Not someone to listen to our life story, to listen to our tragedy and love us even after our dark history. Not someone to help us carry our luggage… burdens? Or someone to show us our future, our happily ever after. Not someone to show us how happy we could be.


We just need someone to be there. To smell the sweet scent of the same air. To share the silence of the night. To just be there.


How to move on

1.) Write a poem, letter, or message to him but don’t send it. Read it a hundred times, cry over it again and again. Cry until you’ve had enough and then place it somewhere;


To the past inhabitant of Catalonia

whose eyes I caught upon him entering the room first day of class

with head a foliage of curly

then later cut into baldness

bare like what is left of me after trying to distance


I was the lover

in defiance of everything that beckoned he was wrong for me

my heart shall now experience slumber

the rest that it deserves


winsome believer

rather with the pair of eyes that caught me since the first day of class

the gentleman that taught me chemistry

as sparks ignited inside of me

its time to turn these sparks off

before it burns the rest of me


2.) Surround yourself with your true friends/best friends. It’s okay, trust me, you can pour your heart out to them.


3.) Vacation works 🙂  It gives you space and time. But do not go to a place you go to together, you’re not ready for that.


4.) Get your hair cut. Maybe a new look would help? Look way way better than you were with him because hey, you’re a free soul! Who knows, maybe its time to meet ‘the one’. And you don’t want him to just walk past you when the time comes. Babe, you’d want him to feel something the moment he glances at you, and that he couldn’t get you off his mind from then on.


5.) Give yourself time. Of course you need time. You may never forget him but feelings can change, it will if you let it.


6.) It’s time to move on.

The poem of the day

The first rays of light dance around my eyelids
birds sing their hymn and the world is music in synchrony
you are my first thought, a name entrapped in my head,
your name is the only lyric to the song

Flittery fluttery drives the flints of memories
flirty, not dirty, words and scenes in replay
of a face of a man wheeling the hours of my day
countless are the feels, timeless are the merries

It is time for dusk to close the day,
soon my head and my heart is surrendered to rest,
when the day has gone, a poem has been written,
love is the poem of the day

On waving the white flag



Come what may
to a love languishing for years in the dungeon
confined in a heart that hasn’t yet moved on
a love yearning to be set free
to taste the sweet days of liberty

In the Armageddon of love you had built a fortress
to guard what love you had left with the benefactress
holding on beyond your last line of defense
when your stronghold, your lover, in quintessence,
has long abandoned you in the battle

Oh come what may
to the lover
with a love languishing for years in the dungeon
for after you have freed that love, o’er
awaits the unbitter days of liberty in hone

yes true liberty awaits
after you wave the white flag
after you give up the war whilst not in hates
so come what may in a shining aromour or in rag,
because only after then can you find

one to fall into peace with and a soul to be bind