I like to imagine the gnawing pain that stabs at my heart as fingers tickling me to laughter.

I like to imagine the bitter press of pursed lips as the beginning of a shy smile.

Violets are blue

Now that words are left unsaid

And your debts are overdue

I’ll bury the hatchet, bury my heart

In the soils of the one I loved from the start.

Im dreading what the future holds, just because I fear the day where our story had started will end.

I can’t imagine to tell myself the last time I looked up at you was the last I would have seen you.

I hate a start of anything…because in the back of my head all I would start thinking off is the dread of it ending.

People who i no longer call home.

Yet i would defend them at any cost to any stranger.

But it's all in my head, the perceived notion we were friends.

with rubbery cartilage

that encircles them,

burrows down

and feeds in barren soil.

It stretches outwards in links

I can't trace along,

that go past the frontiers

of my cloudy eyes,

untouched by light,

for miles,

and miles,

into an endless darkness.

Creating such tensions  

Nullifying interactions  

Potential friends and actions 

Displaced across dimensions  

Divided into factions 

These segregational tenants 

Creating such tensions  

Nullifying any mentions  

Of potential interactions  

Displaced across dimensions  

I grapple with my emotions 

emotions I am presented with, 

each time that I see you 

In disbelief of such love, 

my heart, to such love it is numb, 

mortified I’ll fall for you, 

then never see you again 

just like how I have not, all year long 

when we were just a few meters apart... 

Oh! If it weren’t for those walls... 

If it weren’t for those tenets... 

Whenever I see you, 

I wish to approach you  

Why can I not walk through, 

this cage, thereof, the keys I have? 

A gasp of mesmerization and also one of dread, 

afraid I’ll still love you, until I am dead 

And to me, for I know that to none, 

have you any debt 

Still, with my love for you, I feel so inept 

Years & years of this tyrranical heft, 

locked behind those vault doors, 

right between the everstanding walls 

Then to be throw myself into this maze? 

How am I to navigate, when I keep awaiting your gaze? 

I am studdened whenever I see you, 

you amaze 

For I am phased by your beauty,  

ever hazed by your laze 

But today, I share this. And these are only memories. No more pain, no more haze. Sober lucidity, yet not numbing. Time heals all wounds, transforms all yearnings. Or is that what we tell ourselves as to not mourn long-dead possibilities?