Everybody else has a line they cannot cross,
I'd drew them myself before we became friends,
They wouldn't have any say about it,
But you've never been everybody else to me,
And that means there's nothing between us that you can't cross,
You are free to come here and strike me down and kill me,
Even when I don't welcome it,
I'd never lift a finger to strike you down and kill you first,
So maybe there is a line for us after all,
Going in spirals,
You moving in,
And I, moving out.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
False interpretations
What dependency?
You think I need them?
When you accuse me of faults, then you're accusing yourself of faults.
Because I am nothing without you.
And everytime you mistake friendship with dependency,
I wish that you had never conceived me.
You think I need them?
When you accuse me of faults, then you're accusing yourself of faults.
Because I am nothing without you.
And everytime you mistake friendship with dependency,
I wish that you had never conceived me.
Saturday, August 5, 2017
Behind the veil
You've always stood in front of your love and your scars,
To both protect and to hide,
And when you loved me,
I couldn't tell whether I'm protected or hidden,
So I lived as your wound,
And hope that you can love me as your scar.
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
Dark patches on wrinkled skin
Anger,
Was all thats left in that hour,
Death,
Was the simple justice left for scale.
Was all thats left in that hour,
Death,
Was the simple justice left for scale.
Saturday, July 29, 2017
Delayed
I've promised many times that I'll never be like you,
Even when my flaws are shaped like your edges,
Maybe all I am is nothing like you,
Even when loose grips, wouldn't sever our tethers.
Beneath swaying trees,
In the season of fruits,
I fell and skinned my knees,
And you convinced me everything is good.
Even when my flaws are shaped like your edges,
Maybe all I am is nothing like you,
Even when loose grips, wouldn't sever our tethers.
Beneath swaying trees,
In the season of fruits,
I fell and skinned my knees,
And you convinced me everything is good.
Friday, July 28, 2017
The passing of an author
I was an empty book,
And you gave me my letters,
And now you're gone,
No matter where I look,
I hope you would still pray,
So I wouldn't leave my pages in shambles.
And you gave me my letters,
And now you're gone,
No matter where I look,
I hope you would still pray,
So I wouldn't leave my pages in shambles.
Friday, June 30, 2017
The curse we carry
As the first corner takes the silhouette of you from me,
Everything about us bursts to life,
And as the comfort of home fades away,
I call out a silent goodbye,
The sincerest me that I'll ever be,
Only for you,
I wish our goodbyes will echo an eternity.
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