i would've happily wasted an ungodly amount of my short life
waiting for you.
none of what i was, was enough to make you stay
so there's no pride in keeping her
or wasting it anyways.
i kept on dreaming of this soft love that i don't know where
in great heavens do i seek.
in the grainy replays of our grand memories, rich motion pictures
one after the other overlaying my morning train rides to nowhere.
stillness of what was, i was there, i lived you, now i am god of those
treacherous images.
omniscient as can be.
my lover, i can't change a single crystal on that film.
no one can save myself but me, but i let go of her.
undeveloped negatives and burnt films of maps
i traced every marks on your skin.
your moles, your tattoos, the scars on your finger.
39 days. i've lost our bitter parts, hanging on to blurs and residues.
that love was soft and easy.
i remember nothing else.
thank you for pouring love in me, and may i have reciprocated in tenfolds
or i may have not, it was us against the world.
thank you for holding me at night throughout the coldest winter of my life.
dear god,
i've never loved lukewarmly.
i'll lose the sun to be able to.
