Title: I hate flowers

“I hate flowers.”

That was the only lie I ever told you, scared of admitting my lack of masculinity. Yet, you expected that to be the last thing on my mind. Relieved, I kept wanting to get closer and closer to you. No matter how strong I was back then, I kept wanting to reveal my weaker side only to you.

Who knew that you could make flowers bloom in winter? It’s been a while, but I think of you every quiet hour. If the nights get too cold, I will see you in my dreams. and I think of you especially when I see a bouquet, imagining myself handing it only to you. I miss you every day and I cling to the hope you’ll come back.

Once all my petals are gone, I hope I can meet you as somebody else. That day, I’ll tell you I love flowers because to say I don’t is to disregard my feelings for you.

Title: Finding you in the wind 

Deep in the terrain where you left me, I search for the very wind that made us meet, for a silent prayer muted by the gust is yet a prayer heard. Amongst the crowd of naysayers, I must say I cannot imagine my life without you so while you may think the world might forget you, I cannot forget you, and I refuse to for all the words that mean “beautiful”, have now become synonymous with the syllables of your name. Therefore, I shall now stand in the wretched wind, in a forest full of vile creatures because a world void of you, is a terrifying world I have no joy in.

Title: Live for me

“I wish I never lived.”

Those were the words you whispered to me on an occasion I forgot. Your words carried the weight of an affliction I could never manage to soothe with my gentle words and the affection I serenade you. I can do nothing to convince you otherwise other than tell you where you lie in my soul. Like a river to a drought, you rejuvenate the life back into me with your antics, antics foreign to me. In your beautiful eyes glint sorrows that compel me to learn more about the mysteries etched into that mind of yours. In your laughter lies a momentary lapse of pure happiness that makes even the most nihilistic thoughts turn to nothing. This brings me to talk about the man that you spend your life with, as I envy him for the happiness he’ll have. 

What am I but a wanderer in the dunes? What are you but an oasis for the wanderer? Despite the toll this world has on your feeble heart, I now see the cruel irony that a chunk of my existence relies on yours. 

My beloved, live for me a bit more.

Title: Dressed in Black

When the lights were shut and the dance floor was opened, I recall trying to avoid you. In fact, I did. Not wearing my glasses that day was the best stupid decision I could have taken, because I did not want to see you with my eyes.

But I guess I could not outrun you, because you dragged me along anyway. It was the first time we met after you knew what my heart felt, yet you did not change even for a second. Somehow, I still meant something to you, even if it was not what I would have wanted. Almost a year later I look back at the pictures we took together, which is funny because I did not do so all this time. Here you were ruining a picture I wanted to take, and there I was annoyed with you as always. 

I could not say it then, and I still do not know if I can say it now.

But, you look the most beautiful when you are dressed in black, my beloved.

Title: Live, life is beautiful 

“Live, life is beautiful” 

Let me refute your conjecture life was, is, or will never be beautiful. Existence has no deep meaning neither does finding solace in the constructs you make to make yourself feel at home. But I refuse to tell you, to forgo the consistent yearning to find meaning. I hope you find yourself at the absolute end of oblivion to know how beautiful hope truly is. I hope you break into a thousand pieces only to realize you were always beautiful. I hope you pull yourself through the muddy terrain just to feel the dirt in your feet melt into your skin.

So refrain from thinking life is beautiful, and in your beauty, stand tall.

Live life, beautiful.

Title: “I hate the moon”

“I hate the moon.”

Yes, that’s what I said to you as we walked passed Wellesley, a chaotic street full of people I could care less about. You found it interesting, considering how much of a sucker I am for poetry in every nuance of life. Your eyes glimmered in awe of what each one of us has seen once in a blue moon. 

The moon reminds me of myself, a hollow vessel that requires to be filled by another’s light. No matter what form I take, a vessel like mine keeps searching for its Sun. It was not until the day I met you that two souls eclipsed into one. Unfortunately, just like eclipses, that too was momentary.

As I looked at the moon tonight, I found myself wondering where that discontentment wandered off. Perhaps, I’m content until the next eclipse wanders into my life. 

Title: “Cherry Festival”

By nightfall,

when the spirits cease their dance

I stumble on a cobbled path 

to the flower of your soul

Your decayed petals,

rebirth into full blossom once again

In a vibrant dance under morning’s hue

and the frigid winds that swept your heart shadows deep, now departed

bask in the warmth and solace 

the Sun bestows to you

May the unsuspecting passerby see you,

and resist the urge to pluck 

the life you bring

Amidst a garden of withered blooms,

your cherry blossoms sway with grace

These petals of yours,

fly away with a gentle breeze far,

reaching us with 

the breath of a hopeful tide

In the festival of cherry petals,

embrace your eternal spring.