Illusions

Blistering pain has been trying
To conquer me, one who's dying,
A hollow shell inside the darkness
Living inside an obvious mess

The writhing pain, the soaring
Lightheadedness
And the needles
Pricking the tip of my fingers

The bloodshot eyes,
The fallen ones,
Where do you run to?
To the light or to the
Burning madness of veiled pleasure?

Gone

Is that all we are worth?
Without a glimpse
Nor even a goodbye
You're gone

What do I do now?
I'm lost without you
I keep holding on to memories
But I'm out of your life

How will I find another?
I can only think of you,
Your sweet kisses and loving arms,
All my imagination

Am I delusional?
Where are you now?

Should I mourn my loss?
Or should you mourn yours?

Random

I still wonder if you really love me
Thoughts keep running through my head,
wondering if I really make you happy
Or you just pretend that I do.

It hurts knowing you are willing to do
Everything from your previous loves,
but what are you willing to do for me,
Really?

I could dedicate thousands,
Millions of songs, to
Tell you how much
I
Love
You

But how many hymns are you willing
To sing, to play,
For me?

Don't let me wait
l
o
n
g
.

Rainy Days, Sunny Nights

I look out, my tired feet
Resting on the tattered couch
Just beyond the mind conquered by invaluable sanity.
It was raining, little drops tearing against the glass
Of my bedroom window,
I reach out, an attempt
To touch the passing spirit
Of the transparent presence

I was in stupor, yet again,
Believing everything was real
From the passionate kisses
To the deepest love I had always yearned for,

I write your name in the air,
Hoping my love would be embedded in your heart,
Hoping that once, even just once,
You would live to know,
Somebody has her love for you.

Now that the rain has subsided,
There would always be a rainbow,
Some sunshine to cheer me up,
And I just bury my head
Within what my imagination can grasp
It had always been you...

Your face, the warm smile,
The gentle caress,
The firm grasp...

The first and last person I see
When I close and open my eyes
And illusioned mind and dying heart...

From rainy days
To sunny nights.

Love

The most trivial and important
Experience that could be brought
Upon man

What could love really be?
What could love really do?
What could love make us feel?
What could love make us do?

Is it love when I feel
Like I'm on the top of a pedestal
Singing at the top of my voice,
Eyes closed,
And him in my mind?

Or is it when I lay down in bed
And try to sleep, but
His image appears and
Makes me happily dream?

What could love really be?
It may be the funny feeling
In my stomach, or
The sudden chill and warmth
When his presence suddenly
Embraces me.

It may also be the desire
To give everything and
Anything
Just to be with him

What could it really be?
It can be expressed
In a million words,
And still leave a gaping hole
About what it is

And as of now,
Love is something
I'm sure I would be giving him.

The Things That Pain Me

What are the things that
Make me seem like a
Thread of ball
Rolling downhill
Towards the sea -
incapable of treading
and resurfacing towards the
Indistinct water?

What are the things that pain me?
A rubber ducky left alone
in a draining bath tub,
A lone rose desiring sun
and trying to shield itself
Against the stormy wind

What are the things that pain me?
The intimate sound of your voice
Puncturing my insides like I was
Made of stone,

The way you held my hand like it was
The last thing you want to hold

What would be the things that would be painful?
The long separation from your longing kiss,
The sinking feeling of seeing you far,
Not finding me.

The end of my never-ending dreams
Of you holding me like you do to her.

What I Think of You

What do I think of you?
A million times asked,
A million times vaguely answered.

What do I think of you?
I can say you're a firefly
Against my endless evening sky,
The joy
In each moment's passing ploy,
And I can also start to dwindle my words
To passing
Just to make you feel good.

Honestly, what do I think of you?
You're my pianist,
who plays with notes like they're part of life,
whose fingers dances on the white keys
Like it was a bridging gap,
whose wrists do not touch,
because music is delicate.

And what do I think of you?
I ask over and over again.

Honestly, what do I think of you?
The person, who, I'm afraid to lose
Because you were the one
Who gave me something to hold on to.
The person I dream of
Every moment of the day, and every second of the night,
The person I've been longing for all my life
The person I wish to hold in my arms
Like today is the last.

And you ask me again,
"What do you think of me?"
I could say many possible words,
But I could only stare and,
Smile, making my eyes wrinkle,
And mutter,
"I think you're great. She's lucky."
She really is.