Scattered around my half-made bed
are books half incomplete.
Half of your painting now
stares me down from the easel,
Half of the unwritten poems
await in the abandoned sheets.
That’s me,
unfinished.
Half of my….
Tag Archives: poem
Halves
I was the beginnings
and you were the ends,
I was the sunrise
and you,the sunsets.
Weren't we both
just half written poems,
waiting to meet
and be one song.
Weren't we both
the last two puzzle pieces
waiting to be chosen
and be finally solved.
Darling,
tell me again..
where did we go wrong?
Beauty in Ruins
There is a certain beauty in ruins,
In abandoned ships, rusted to its core
floating gracefully on still water.
In empty ferris wheels
stealthily revolving encore,
determined to defy newton’s laws.
In silent mansions with marbled floors
inhabited by the screaming ghosts
of the past, of moments that didn’t last.
In broken vinyls stuck in a loop,
echoing the same distorted tune
claw marks all around the dead record,
now it begs for mercy.
In sunsets, In cloudy days
In thunders, In storms
In heartbreaks, In betrayals
In soaked pillows, In loneliness
There is a certain beauty in ruins,
at least for an artist.
2 am
2 am,
memories of you coincide with the
ticks of the second hand,
cross-legged on my sofa bed,
I can feel the fantasies play over my head
As the dim table lamp flickers,
trying to convey a message in codes
I couldn’t understand.
The breeze outside moves like waves,
hitting and missing my skin as it sways,
The sparrows lay quiet, the stray dogs tired,
the clouds tiptoe with no slippers on,
like a thief that has retired.
And the gentle moon abide,
let the clouds steal all of her bright.
A soft lightning illuminates the night sky,
a silent thunder sparks far from my sight.
I have been dedicating my 2 ams in your memories, darling.
And the 2 ams have been dedicating it’s tranquility to me in return.
My letters 