In payment for those moments
I gazed at the world through
Windows of midnight hue,
I am lost in wrecks of the mind,
With the tacit knowledge that
There is no fear without me.
It is within:
A flash of radiant light
Engulfed in black eclipse.

Late have I longed for it;
A flash, a wink, a whisper,
A thunderous roar, I seek,
To wrench my gaze of worldly things
And lay waste, at last,
These windows of midnight hue.

Late have I longed for it…
A flash…
A wink…
A whisper…

You are near,
crying in your arms,
because I cannot carry
your charms
to your seductive,
reductive grave.

Your form is an aura
I'll blind myself to,
wishing nothing
when it passes,
like an unseen star
through a void.

Thinking ahead
to those moments
generates anxiety and fear.

It feels like
I might open a box
of dire circumstances,
a basket of hassles,
for tomorrow
is so uncertain.

Similarly, the past
resembles a rug
stained with footprints
of mud, grit, and misdeeds
best described as guilt.

Self-reproach
obscures all awareness
of the present moment.

Peace exists;
it resides in my awareness
of now.

And in those moments together,
God concedes
that sadness and dark times
are assured.

These obligatory struggles,
though arduous to traverse,
are trials
that contain kernels of truth
for me to grasp

if I pay attention.

I’ve made a playlist for my funeral, guess I’m bound to die.
Don’t know when, but I know one day my home will be the sky.
I hide my hurt behind a smile, a well-rehearsed disguise,
But deep inside, I’m bracing for the last goodbye.

A Garden of Peace
How to Disappear Completely
Leave Out All The Rest

You made me feel
A world of hope
Life seemed brighter
When you gave me
Butterflies.

I gathered my courage
just to seem
like some "Sweet Girl"
To you
After all
Our conversations meant nothing
You blocked me. No Reason!
Just to avoid the awkwardness
Building up my hope
Just to disappear without a trace
Now all tears fall down the face
As I'm deeply confused of what I did
To make you block out my existence.

I understand rejection
It's so normal
yet so painful
I'm not mad you rejected me
But why did you blocked me?

I don't get it
I'm exactly your type too!
Abyssal black hair
A face as pale as paper
But I guess Something about me
Must've pushed you away
Weather it's because
I'm in Marching Band
Or that I religiously listen to Slipknot
Or both
I don't get what's wrong with me.
But why should I care
maybe because you left me confused
Yet I'm so sick that I refuse
To stop wondering
Why you blocked me out
When all I said was
"Sorry for making this awkward".

I've never got rejected
So this really
Hurts
But I will get over it
soon.

If I shot at a number line,
The chance of hitting it exactly would be 0,
Because a line made only of points has no width,
And points themselves have no size.

So it is impossible to pick a specific point.

So if I had, or did, shoot my shot,
I’d have no chance,
Because she is only his,
And he is hers.

So it is impossible to shoot my shot at her.

I left an earring on your nightstand
like a dare,
like a dog whistle only I could hear,
like a lie I could almost live with,
like a warning you didn’t read.

You wrote me like you were killing time.
I let you.
I was tired—
tired of being the intermission
between things you actually wanted,
tired of holding out my hands
just to catch the sound of you leaving.

It was raining the next day.
Of course it was raining.
The whole city smelled like last chances
wrung out in the gutter,
like a bouquet dropped
when someone realized it wouldn’t change anything,

You said,
"Take care of yourself."
And I did—
by breaking every mirror
that still showed me your mouth,
by smashing every reflection
that looked like hope.

There's a version of me
still waiting at that train station—
wearing the wrong jacket,
gripping the wrong book,
mistaking longing for directions,
carrying promises like ballast.
I'll know it's you
by the way my spine recognizes the disaster
before my eyes do.

I hope she never learns.
I hope she keeps looking up every time the wind shifts.
I hope she believes in arrivals.
Even when no one steps off.

The sky seems dark and light remains far,
Light is taken by darkness and cruelty has grown too harsh.
Hope fades like a whisper lost in the storm,
As sorrow and silence together form.