1.

one morning i woke up with tear-marks on my cheeks
and i didn't remember crying
so i met this girl on the other side of the bathroom's mirror
looked into her hollowed eyes and asked

when will you take me

2.

if i rip my chest open right now
coffee would run out instead of blood
and if i slit my wrist vertically
the ink would stain this wooden floor
there is cigarettes' smoke infused in my belly
along with the pills
and wine splashing half-full in my head
as if my skull has turned itself into a glass of
champagne
eagers for an olive made out of soft lead core
and coated in shining copper
to shatter it into pieces 
one ornament i'll be happy bringing to the grave

we gotta celebrate the funeral anyway

3.

sometimes i think of death as a scheduled event
a date with whom i've been waiting for far too long
i marked it on my phone's calendar
and wait for the ring,
the alarm
the notification
that says simply

your time has came

4.

my heart had slipped through my fingers and
shattered on the floor a thousand times
and i pierced it back with bobby pins
but there were days when i ran out of them and she didn't have any
to lend me
so i had to go to school with messy hair,
nasty face and
every inch of a body radiating

ugly sadness

5.

sometimes she came and we talked
on my bed, quiet whispers under the pillows
as if they wouldn't echo in my bones
as if then i could pretend that little talk did not even exist
and she convinced me that it didn't matter if i hated myself
because life was insignificant and

her embrace is the end

6.

if there is anything i hate about her
it will be her horrendous fashion taste
i sassed her about it
about how she stacked a wardrobe full of black cloaks
about the 50s retro hairstyle she wore
about her being too conservative
treasuring the trends that went extinct
hundreds of years ago
and i told her what i'll wear for the day
a red lacy dress, knitted cardigan with floral lappets
a silky maroon bow and matching shoes
pieces of rose gold jewel here and there
then a little make up so

i would go the prettiest

7.

there are so many nights we spend
holding hands until i pass out drowning in my own tears
and she disappears
there are so many nights that i no longer bother to count

the delaying days on my calendar

8.

she doesn't like water
she does not recommend it
it'll be nasty, she said
and painful and you will look like a hideous floating sandwich

and it takes too long

and too easy to hold you back

9.

i hate wasted efforts
so i either keep myself whole and surviving
or go straight to the heart
if i'm gone
i'm gone

there's no last second regret or return

10.

oh darling,
there is nothing beautiful about this
there is nothing beautiful about me, about her, or about sadness
or those depressed poems
or this crippling despair
it has always been an awful lie that
being broken is beautiful
only mouthful of stiches and handfuls of scars
cold lights on your face at three in the morning
that feel like tears rolling down but it's dry when you try to wipe
tongue-tied with icy fingers tracing your spine
and blurring eyes on ceiling for hours in sleepless days and nights
the anxiety so devastating you want to bury yourself alive and
the fears so horrid you want to burn them all to ashes
none of those are beautiful
she didn't bring anything beautiful along upon her arrival
into my life
and i never tell her before but

i love her

and

i wish we never meet at all

*

Fri, 04/11/2016.