If the stars come together as one,
they’d make a gorgeous display.
If the little moons left the Moon
to spread across the sky,
they’d create something beautiful too.
A twinkling, giant disaSTAR,
and its little MOONsters.
It won’t last for long;
stars aren’t built to not crave for attention.
At least one would pop
out of the group often and complain,
“I’m not being noticed enough!”,
and in no time, there’d be no group.
The moons are better together as one Moon;
things are good as they are.
I so desperately wanted to be a star,
and now that you have made me one,
how do I tell you that I hate it when
I struggle for your attention?
I want to be the star,
the only star, on this sky,
and if that wish is impossible to grant,
make me the guiding star.
I want to have you to myself, Moon.
I really hate the way you ‘her’;
I want you to turn things ‘her-round’.
I’m sick and tired
of being sick and tired,
so tired of being sick,
so sick of being tired.
I’m so tired of being love-sick,
and just as intensely,
so sick of the way you make me tired.
You make me uncomfortable when
you place a third on our love seat,
when you make me struggle for your attention
like the weakest star among the
lot who love and want to be with the moon,
when I lie with you and there’s no heat.
I am sick and tired of you, of this us, of the way you ride me like a horse.
The whole time was the hole time.
Each time, we dug,
wherever we were,
whenever we wet.
Many times, we dug,
us two complete strangers who
liked the idea that we were one.
Every time, we dug,
so much so that we would sweat profusely,
but we couldn’t find each other
despite all the work.
All the time, we dug,
the whole time, at hole times,
we buried our love a-lie-ve.
I liked your touch so much,
I became fragile,
but you were too young to handle fragile;
you broke me.
We are going to play Ex and Oh today, me and him.
I’m preparing to have the best lines,
give him reasons to spit “oh”s.
I miss him terribly,
I love him still,
but the feeling isn’t mutual to me.
He seems to have more than
enough “O”les at his disposal.
So today, I place an “X” on my heart,
today, I cross the bullshit.
Complain or Come Plain?
Complaining that your partner does not see you for who you are when you don’t know who you are.
Complaining that your partner doesn’t see you for who you are when someone else’s partner doesn’t see them at all because they can’t, they’re blind…
Oops! This relationship is too comfortable. Let me just frustrate everyone a little; lemme just cook trouble, I haven’t tasted blood in a while.
Lemme just…end this beautiful relationship because something is missing- chaos- I’m so used to chaos, where is it?
Death didn’t spare my previous knight
on his way to meet me,
so he became death.
he was dead inside.
He broke hearts and ripped souls,
but I welcomed him with open arms.
Totally rejecting the idea that
he was completely dead,
I tried to fix his wounds.
He snatched my heart and broke it in six,
and I let myself die the 6th time.
Look, I am very quickly becoming death;
so, find another queen.
My flowers are not yours to wet;
my heart’s not yours to win.
Your knight was/is not Death, queen;
your real knight will come!
Love will make you sad,
it’ll turn you bad,
and it’ll drive you mad,
if it’s given to you in dribs and drabs.
Why do I miss you so much
if you are right beside me?
You are gone from you,
you are gone from me.
Your eyes don’t recognize me anymore,
I can’t see myself in them.
and I’m alive,
but Us is dead;
Us is not on this bed.