Tag Archives: relationships

Que Seja Eterno Enquanto Dure

just because it’s beautiful
doesnt mean it’s not sad
in fact it is sad
precisely because it is beautiful

and it is fleeting,
and it is warm and comforting
like a hot bowl of soup on a rainy evening.
or the last winter day just before the spring.

you know what i mean?
i don’t believe there’s such a thing as evergreen
everything’s beautiful and even serene
because of the endings that are foreseen

stories must end when they’re due
despite the aches i can’t subdue
and how much my soul yearns for you
maybe i’m just not the lucky few

there’s no need to pretend
you’re gonna stay til the end
or that what we have may transcend
cos we were more than just friends

no need to sugarcoat
or call it love quote unquote
i saw the end before we even began
and yet i still place my heart in your hand

not because i’m careless.
but because i’m fearless.
i know my heart will burst
or even worse.

but i wanted to live when i’m alive
and not just merely survive
you know what i mean?
i wanted all that dopamine

and when it’s time to let go i’ll put on a show
it’s raining tears but all you’ll see is rainbow.
i’d want you to stay but instead i’ll say
of course you can go. i’ll be okay.

but will you hold my hands while i grieve
this finale of my make-belief?
and while i promise you i’m not naive,
will you please kiss me before you leave?

Have We Met Before?

There was no love at the first sight
I don’t believe in it anyway
No sparks, nor fireworks in the night
Not even a promise to stay

But have we met before?
Maybe in our past life?
Cos when your lips met mine
it’s like my stars finally aligned.
Oh, have we met before,
were we pieces of the same soul?
Your hands on me and I just knew
It’s like my soul remembers you.

You’re kinda full of yourself
But I wanna be full of you
I don’t understand it myself
Or if what I feel is even true

Cos, have we met before?
Maybe in our past life?
Tell me why i feel it in my bones
you’re someone i’d always known?
Oh, have we met before,
were we pieces of the same soul?
Your hands on me and I just knew
It’s like my soul remembers you.

Maybe I’m just a silly girl
Each new crush was my destined love
No one stayed, you won’t either,
but before you go please entertain me

Tell me have we met before?
Maybe in our past life?
Cos when you held me real tight
Everything just felt so right.
Oh, have we met before,
were we pieces of the same soul?
Your hands on me and I just knew
It’s like my soul remembers you.

Transcendence

when you lay your head on a heartbeat
and you call it home cos you feel complete
you know home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling
like a lifeless winter breaking in spring
or dark nights ending in dawn
or a warm silence after the storm.

i believe it, i feel it around me.
a melody. a symphony. the idea of serenity.
but i just don’t see how to break free
from this path i chose, this chain i put on me.

so i take love on a loan for the pains in my bones
and look for stopovers instead of a home.
just somewhere to sleep, get me through the night
and some warmth to bring with me, a borrowed light.

i know they’re not going to last, they’re temporary
and i know all loans come due eventually
but i’m not chasing eternity
just chemistry. mutuality. maybe even intensity.

just a stopover to lay down my defense
just for as long as it makes sense

Anxiety

why is it that my anxiety
requires your ghost to satiate me
as if you’re not merely my fantasy
but an antidote god made for me

why is it that my anxiety
longs for the warm memory
from when you laid next to me
as if you were mine endlessly

time stopped
heart beat
warm breath
tears shared

you weren’t meant for me
i know that
we’re back to reality
i get that

but though the logic is sound, the soul is not
it is still spell-bound, still distraught

will i ever outgrow you, i wonder?
will i ever stop looking back?
stop trying to find remnants of the almost there
stop feasting on all the flashbacks

i wonder
why is it that when i’m anxious
you’re still the one i dream of
for comfort

Limerence

but the funny thing is
you promised
that i was so precious
to you it makes you anxious
when i don’t text you
you get suspicious

but honey here’s how texts work:
you can text first too
so why go berserk when i don’t text you?

call me malicious
my love fictitious
when i don’t text you you turn so vicious

but honey what are you on about?
look on the table, all my cards are out

you used to call me lovely
and hold me closely
made me believe you adored me
wanted me

all of me

but the weight of my existence
was too much for you to bear
so persistence turned into distance
and limerence turned into warfare

darling
i’m tired of mending and entertaining
i was sinking
shrinking myself
fighting to stay
standing

but no

you saw me, used and bruised,
then slammed the door on me
were you just confused
when you said you loved me?

Unblooming

some things aren’t meant to last,
like that purple hue in the orange sky.
while some things from a distant past
you can never really say goodbye.

like a book closed, unread, unfinished.
a start of a spark, quietly extinguished.
they were the what ifs, left hanging at the cliff.
never mended. never truly ended.

like echoes trapped in an abandoned room.
memories of spring but the flowers never bloom.

like a familiar word that almost made sense.
entirely made up,
merely willed into existence.

Indigo

can we compare notes?
can we call a truce, but not sugarcoat?
not to save the sinking boat,
nor to romanticize the abuse.
it wasn’t all rainbow, i know.
there was no excuse.

but even so.

i’m not here to attack,
i just really need to know.

fifty days of no contact.
are you just laying low,
waiting for me to pull you back?
or have you completely let go?

and when you do look back,
what is it beyond the shadows
of all the fights and setbacks,
what is it that echoes?

was it bittersweet heartbeat,
or something above and beyond?
would you call it love,
and is it all gone?

fifty days of silence.
have i been replaced?
at the point of no return,
am i completely erased?

was it all just a show, an act
i was meant to outgrow?

was everything an artifact
now that the sky turned indigo?

Good Girl

Do not call me a good girl.

It’s a name programmed in my brain.
It activates pain, it pushes me to perform
to the point that I go insane.
Else I’d catch a snowy storm
and raging hurricanes.

But I was so devoted. So hungry for validation,
for being doted on, and drowned in adoration.
So committed to gain approval.
Submitted myself, at every beck and call.
Just to feel safely small.
To float in a constellation of emotions.

But then free fall.
Like a rag doll.
After all
Left alone.

So do not call me a good girl.
Or baby girl,
or sweet little girl.
Or any girl at all–I’m a woman.

But
Do not call me YOUR woman.
I am not yours.
Nor do I want to be.
For I was his.
And look where that got me.