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.
Piece of Heaven.
12am: Go to bed.
2am: I pray for faith.
4am: I dreamt of you.
6am: You’re not here yet.
8am: The heart’s yearning.
10am: You never came.
–
I guess the angels took you
As you’re needed where they are.
Perhaps I deserve this hurt
Because I had a piece of heaven.
But bless me so
Let me sleep better with each passing night.
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.
Cake.
Candles lighted,
Before us a creamy buttery slice.
In the sepia and dim,
Light was brightest in your eyes.
In all snow and white,
You brought flaring summer.
Two heart popsicles,
Melting into sweet pink mush.
Orchestra.
As if diving into the sea
While a fighter jet flew by with uncertainties.
As if the conductor raised his hand
And the orchestra of worries halted.
He seemed to be her sense of peace,
Calming to the point she could hear her heart racing —
Unsure if it’s from the anxious thoughts.
Or the sheer presence of him.
Gardens.
Amidst scents of flowers,
He was greenery.
Sunday afternoons
Love was the best scenery.
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.
killgwen 