love never goes out of season

I wasn't someone who acknowledged the art of praying

but it was July 7th and I relied on God's favor

you made it come true and ever since then I'm no longer godless

you started by plucking the wilding

ended up scratching your tender hands

but you said "everything's fine," as you wrapped a bandage

then you continued watering down my grave

you had to walk miles to find a glimpse of waterfall

stepping on sharp pebbles, leaving sticky red liquid all the way to the grave

"you're beautiful yet untended, it's such a shame"

you said as you spread different kind of flowers

I swore I could smell them six feet buried underground

it was summer

the rain wouldn't come any time soon

so you replaced the sky's duty to water me down everyday

once again you saved me

when it was supposed to be

a divine being or the universe's onus

"you're now my summer project,"

"but I don't want this to end soon,"

"love never goes out of season."

right side of the bed

friday night august eleventh

never thought this would be the day where i

got to find my will to live again and look forward to brighter suns

a key in our hands

as we looked at each other for the nth time

never thought inserting into a keyhole would excite so much

the moment the door was closed

i remember it vividly how our lips crashed

bodies pushing against each other passionately

under the dimmed kitchen lights

we declared our love

with a clink of peach soju glasses that i liked

it wasn't perfect

you wanted to move out right away

out of embarrassment of disappointing me

what more could a broken soul desire

when all they wanted was served before the eyes?

when all they wanted was a love so pure from the love of their life?

we sat down comfortably

letting the bed suck our bottoms in

glueing us not to move an inch, freezing the moment 

i picked the left side of the bed

and you were left with no choice

but to stay on the right side of the bed

the right side of the bed

where the sun shone right through the wooden blinds to say hello every morning

where the moon and the stars shone right at you, taking turns as the sun bid adieu

the right side of the bed

so i had a reason to turn right every chance i got

so i had a reason to make everything right when things went strayed

the right side of the bed

where i captured you beautifully every second our lives went by

and so that i didn't have to turn left facing the mirror's cruel truth, avoiding the monster shown in me

but you saw it

right behind me

whenever you turned to your left side

perhaps

that's one of the reasons why you left

as you grew tired of seeing the ugliness of me

perhaps

that's one of the reasons why you left

as you grew terrified of seeing the monster, getting more sinister each day

perhaps

perhaps

perhaps

little by little

you stopped turning to

the left side of the bed

little by little the glue dried

and it was easy to detach

so you started setting yourself free from me

little by little

you tossed our slokis to the trash can

as you tossed your things away, too

leaving me shackled

on the queen sized bed

forever reminiscing your right side of the bed

a despicable thorny rose in the field of dandelions

despicable you,

standing tall still after a direful hurricane,

glistening after a heavy rain attacking the dirt,

blushing lovely even in the midst of a blizzard,

while the rest was ruined, fell out, and became nonexistent

despicable you,

despite of that,

the dandelions will bloom back and beam you again

a love letter from a homeless man

dear the man who I look up to,

why is it that every time you walk past me

you take your time to stop and come back?

do you know that it gives me hope?

to keep sitting in the same place

under the shade of a perforated bus stop

the rain keeps me wet and cold 

while the sun stings and burns my skin

nevertheless, I'm never moving forward

dear the man whom I long for,

why is it that every time you're with a company

you never take your time to glance at me

is it because of my appearance?

is it because of my rotten odor?

is it because you saw right through me the last time our eyes spoke?

had I known, 

only if you told me with spoken words

that I'd understand the meaning behind your gaze

dear the man who changes his routes, 

is it wrong for a filthy homeless man like me

to be in love silently with you?

lolita

shiny things surrounding me,

but it didn't bother me 

love some pink for me

and make the drink sweet for me 

patting me,

tickling me 

giggles were let out by me,

some "ah" escaped the lips of me 

"you're a brat," you talked down on me

"I like you," you added to me 

slowly, you took off the top of me

your teeth landed at the ear of me 

"you're like a little kid," you teased me

"it's not an insult," you loved that for me 

I loved that for me

was it wrong of me?

if my heart were a house

my house was filled with spiderweb, 

no owner, not even a guest

then you rang the doorbell, once, twice, thrice

you broke in, letting your feet wandered around

there was something that caught your eyes,

a cracked holed wall

"I like this place," you said despite the dust flying around filled your lungs til it's hard to breath

"I like this place," you said regardless the broken wall being an eyesore to your sight

you called an ambulance, 

"please fix this wall"

diamonds, syringes, alcohol, pills, cements 

mixed, stirred, patched, repeat

a day, a week, a month, sleepless nights

mixed, stirred, patched, repeat

"you'll be fixed," you said with a loving tone,

caressing the wall as it started to hardened 

birds chirping by the windows accompanying you every morning and night, singing a love song

a love song about a man who loved an eerie abandoned house in the middle of nowhere

"it'll be just like magic," you reassured the wall before you went to sleep like a routine

you loved the wall more than ever,

or so you thought

what you didn't consider was, old building would always be fragile

one blow and it's back to crack 

two blows and it collapsed

"what the fuck is wrong with this place?"

you were full of rage as you stomped your feet out of the house

leaving the once abandoned, taken cared house back to its place

filled with spiderweb, dust, cracked, holed, abandoned

hope is an illusion

 i used to drag both my feet

i was limping and hurting

still dragging my feet, hoping to find a pair of shoes

it was dimmed

i saw shiny things from afar

shoes

i wore them and walked

slowly

since my feet were hurting

i should slow down, shouldnt i?

i saw birds flying, theyre fast

oh, how i wish i could do the same

i could, couldnt i?

then i started running 

we were on the same pace

the difference was that i was running on the ground and they were flying in the air

it didnt matter

we both had our ways

but then i tripped and fell

into a hole

deep dark hole

the birds were gone

the sight of forest and sky were gone

i was left alone with a dot of light

had i forgot, 

that no matter how hard i tried to catch up

i could never

i can never

hope is nothing but an illusion

and i fell for it

not a pleasant morning

the early morning wind blows peacefully

though, the coldness successfully suffocates my lungs

I close my eyes and I imagine

if I were up in the clouds

or if I were underwater

trying to justify all these sufferings

but everytime I open my eyes

the only thing I could picture

is a blank wall with some yellowish stains 

and my back leaning on a pillow

that feels like a stack of thatch

too, the fabrics that I'm wearing

feel itchy as if they were scratching and digging up my skin

my mind starts to shut down

slowly slowly slowly

making me helpless

making me want to fall into a deep slumber

there's no hope

i am not normal

having to receive such pain in the head

that feels like someone's banging it against the wall

that feels like someone's talking disturbingly inside

i am not normal

having to put much effort on my feet

that I need to crawl because the wind froze them

and that something's growing to kill me

i am not normal

having to focus on my breathing and hold onto an inhaler

that it suffocates me whenever I feel not safe

that it takes the oxygen away when the cold comes

i am sick

so sick

i am ill

so ill

not being able to function mentally and physically

i am broken

so broken

not a poem, just my thoughts

what's all of this?

it's supposed to be a glory

it's supposed to be a celebration

it's supposed to be a new beginning to the better future ahead

but all I see is a loss

a hiding behind walls

a hundred steps backwards going through the same old shit

I finally found a will to live

but it doesn't mean anything now

dreams are for those who are privileged

desires are for those who are privileged

feeling safe while being ignorant is for those who are privileged

and I am not one of them

my mental state isn't getting better

the feeling of something crawling out from my guts

the feeling of being spied on and haunted by

the voices that are starting to come back

and again, I lose hope

I'm starting to question myself

did hope ever exist in the first place?

or was it all in my imagination all along?

I am tired

maybe I should get some sleep

that's what people said to me

but how can I sleep when it fucks me up even when I'm asleep?

knowing there's no escape

but I'm not ready to face reality yet

saying as if I had a choice

life is funny sometimes