Bittersweet.

Failed pretty;

Loved ugly.

Drowned in idealism;

Engulfed in fear.

Mustered strength;

Awoken senses.

Smiled in pain;

Albeit crying in love.

Adjustments.

She could not capture when

Or how it came from the shadows,

That the brightness in his eyes;

The saturation of his skin,

Became highlights she wanted to see the most.

Ideal.

Like sunrise,

I’d trust you lead and shine light.

I’d have no fear in the darkest of nights.

Like waves,

You’d lift me, bring me along, or to shore.

Cyclical, rhythmic, calm and more.

Like rain,

You’re okay to let me see your mess,

Dream with me for rainbow even when chances are less.

Like sunset,

We’d hold space for us to unwind.

Even when you’re not the brightest, I wouldn’t mind.

Heart Balloon.

Holding on to the line of the balloon always seemed easy until distractions happen and we let go of it unknowingly.

Is it meant to be attached by the wrist or do we allow it freedom to drift off to the city of lights?

Ode.

Life’s greatest works deliver

Meanings temporal and eternal.

On the facade,

We carve our paths.

On the polish wheel,

We refine our skills.

Set out with an intention,

Imperfect and learning;

Yet upon completion,

Profound and stunning.

The same is to be said

Of our life endeavours.

Purposefully wander,

For every step is a wonder.

Time shalt pass,

Old age will come.

Like the Grecian urn

With truth between its arms.

Silent and passionate,

For it does not speak.

Classical and timeless,

For it holds true meaning of beauty.

Masterpiece.

Love is like art.

Uncertain strokes,

Building up confidence into a masterpiece.

Like photography,

Forever immortalised in that moment.

Like a concocted scent,

Familiar and fleeting, leaves you craving.

Like aged wine,

Best kept in the memory cellar —

To be appreciated,

And savoured in the present.

To create beauty lasting of all time,

How many false starts do we take?

Slow, peaceful art —

Are we running out of time?

Anxious.

Tippety tap, tippety tap

Footsteps hurrying.

Tippety tap, tippety tap

Raindrops fighting.

Tippety tap, tippety tap

Fingers stimming.

Tippety tap, tippety tap

Her heart thudding.

Right.

Sometimes I give up the exact fight I want so badly to win. I give up right before success because I want to be chosen. Just to convince myself I didn’t fight in vain, yet, ironically I still did.

Sometimes I give up the exact right I own, just because someone showed me they wanted it more badly. It felt like I was helping them, but I wasn’t actually doing so.

Sometimes I confuse tiredness and laziness. I thought I was lazy but I was just too tired to fight. Perhaps the tiredness made it easier to give up entirely.

I hurt myself in the process. Giving up opportunities in love, career, finances, everything. I’m flawed and I only can blame myself so much for not being able to own my right and own my fight.

Whir.

Counting each time

You made my heart race,

Like needles on the sewing machine,

Thumping in and out.

Fast and slow

Then turning the edges,

Whirring along the outline of us

Slightly hurting yet seals us complete.

Anew.

You’ve forgotten how to love.

You’ve forgotten your own worth.

Suppressing your needs for another,

At her beck and call.

Money, time and pride

You gave it all.

The beauty of love,

Is that it is mutual.

I’d show you,

If you’d love anew.

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