warm lights warm nights

spring nights may be cold
but with lights in my eyes and your hand in mine
i’m anything but that

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asymmetrical

light kisses
sneak softly into my thoughts
and I realise

it’s okay to be asymmetrical;
affection comes in different forms and
the wax and the wane is what keeps us going –
somehow you don’t give exactly what I do
but exactly what I need
(and I hope I do you, too)


As someone who was a little anal about things being equal during the give-and-take while growing up, I’m so relieved and proud to be at a point where I’m growing out of that phase, and can accept things not being equal on both sides. After all, it’s equilibrium over equivalence, and equity over equality. And hey, as long as we’re both happy, right?

x.

verge

rough airy notes
heavy with the weight of blunt sincerity
still rise easily to the back of my throat
they sit on my tongue and
threaten to spill over
bubbling and boiling vigorously
desperate to be heard

i swallow them down
and wait
for patience to wear thin
for honesty to layer thick
for self control to drip dry

until then
i’ll always be on the verge of telling you
i love you

empty, to…

fresh memories fade over time; while nothing
illuminates the rooms once full of laughter that
lit up our eyes and soul,
little moments begin to take its place and
empty hearts become full again
dark skies flecked with stars once more

 

Passed by old flats of two of my friends today and the rain and piano ballads didn’t help. The list of people who once meant the world to me but has slowly drifted away is growing steadily, but I’ve accepted it as a part of life. (insert dumb pun about people parting) It’s nice to have lovely memories, and at the same time, I’m filled with a strange swell of happiness when I’m with my current friends, probably because I know that one day, I’ll be looking back fondly, too.

x.

bittersweet

kōcha:
a sour tang of not-enough-sugar and
the taste of lemon peels
mingle in my mouth
liquid washes over my tongue with a bittersweetsour aftertaste
i savour it/ could drown it all in syrup
but what’s the point then?

– – –

Some things aren’t meant to be sweet… and I’m sorry.

x.

hot damn


‘hot damn’
casually slips from my mouth
through a tube from my mind
in dire need of a filter
and then my cheeks flush
hot, damn

– * –

Looks like it’s another season of hot and cold crushes. Hahaha. Oh no.

(I saw a video of my ex dancing and I literally said ‘hot damn’)

(Also, happy National Poetry Day!)

x.