If You See Him
If you see him
Tell him my sun shines from his eyes.
Tell him I kept the pile of pink paper and I earnestly held them when I want to mend my bad temper.
Tell him there are drums in my chest,
and I must admit, he shakes me.
Luckily love is not everything there is; unluckily love is all there is.
If you see him, tell him I've been walking towards the legendary forks with the wind blowing my chiffon-nude-skirt with a white top I wore when we had tea.
Quit gazing at me like that.
This mood is my core,
Dwindled from the day I found out his neck smelled like fresh citrus and fruity scents: teamed with strong, musky and woody elements.
Tonight, I still trick my nose hoping that I’d smoke his perfume
It made me want to tickle the keyboards like that of his ribcage
If only I could play,
I’d play the softest song because he loves the synch.
A light in a dim room
the sky lanterns, turning upside down before they bowed to ashes
My fingers buttoning his sleeves for the first time
Are we not brittle?
And tattering, pleading…
we held that invisible lace to that December.
My mood swings
with the bases flaccid in the stream.
Thus, my wretchedness.
Touches the land, it became my derelict seashore.
If you see him, tell him I had him blamed for the sunset.
Love, a maze of haze: even when it’s not heart-pounding, it’s always there.
Tonight, I suppressed his historic cache of information in the sand,
for every time running for solace meant running towards him.
Tomorrow, I will learn to take heed
when the captain tells me I should stay on board and not to throw myself in the ocean.
Tomorrow, I will know it’s not going to hurt when I stop breathing at the sight of him.
Sometimes, the note says “Don’t think so much”
But time as I knew it pulled the strings of memoir to my desk.
Tell him I want to thank every single day he opens his window for me to take shelter in…
It’s not like every window opens when the storm comes.
I buried my face on his chest and dream of the sun kissing dandelions and the clover scented grasses
The abyss in my eyes are testaments of sombre decaying underneath the roses
I have carried a harness to reinforce my weight every time I do the climb after the abyss engulfed my resistance
It has gotten me quite an episode
To cover the exit doors
For we are delinquencies in our role plays
Tell him that this is not dungeons and dragons
And I do not possess the powers neither do I know how to make potions
But I know the music we painstakingly trying to make.
Tell him that he is a growl of a thunder
That leads to where the soft sheets were when the rain starts to pour.
I wedged my forehead against the window pane and tried to count the rain drops hoping that he’d knock my door after I finished counting the cloud’s last tear.
and I know
it doesn’t work this way
If you see him…
Tell him I still write about him
I wrapped his gift with a pillow case because that’s how my mama taught me to best preserve the material
Listen to night lullabies when sleep stopped casting its sweet spell on my bed
Defying nicotine as I pulled sticks after sticks to calm my nerves
