Storytelling

If I was to tell you of the midnight occurrences

Of the lycans killing

And the fairies dancing

If I was to tell you of the nightly occurrences

Of the elfish princes raping

And the troll kings plotting

If I was to tell you of the moonlit occurrences

Of the witches brewing

And the dragons breathing

If I was to tell you of the darkest occurrences

Would you believe me?

 

Stars

The stars danced in my eyes

To the melody you’ve given me

They sparkled

They dazzled

They shined through numerous dark nights

I’ve counted them

Studied them

Predicted all the movements

But then you gifted me a shooting star

Wrecking havoc across  my night skies

Leaving me scrambling  to catch up

To instill order to the chaos

Because what happens next?

Contemplation

As I lay in bed

I contemplate us

The combination you don’t want

The combination I yearn for

Considering all you’ve toiled

I don’t expect more

So be considerate

Don’t run rampant with my heart

Don’t underestimate my feelings

I don’t think I could handle it, if it was all just a lie

Until you figure out your trials

Us isn’t a pronoun to be used

Maybe its time to contemplate on someone else

Had to be Said

There’s nothing much to say

There’s no way this could be easier

It hurts me to even consider it

No longer can I enjoy a night with you

No longer can there be late night whispers

Its not the fact that I don’t care.

I no longer want the passion that you give me

Its fleeting

Its temporary

Its like experiencing a hot day when its winter

Its beautiful

Its memorable

Its not what I want

I want you

But not what you give me

I’ve Lost It

I have no more questions

I have no more lies

Yet more stories are needed,

made in a blink of an eye. 

I have no more questions though

I have no more lies to tell

Yet stories must be told.

Told in grace,

Wrote in elegance,

Flow easily from the hand without much thought,

Spoken as easily as singing.

Not a story can be written without questions.

Nor can it be written without lies.

An author is no longer an author 

when the reason to question and lie 

isn’t in grasps. 

For an author is just a person

with lies to answer questions.

Sadly an author is no longer I. 

Doubted it

No doubt about it now.

Can’t even second guess it like I did.

The love is obvious

How could I’ve been so blinded?

Saved me from guessing.

Saved me from wishing for such a thing.

but… I lost it.

I had too much doubt.

I couldn’t believe it for a second.

So that beautiful thing?

That clearly I missed out on

Moved on

And I will never witness such a beautiful love again

It’ll be There

The mornings come naturally now.

I get up and face the hope.

My sleeping bliss letting me forget.

I hold on to that bliss,

at moments I wish I didn’t,

at points I wish it wasn’t there.

Yet somehow I always wake,

with it at my side.

I hate how it fades.

I hate how that feels.

I hate how it disappears.

I hate it when it leaves me,

to make me face whats not there.

Though sometimes what I hate the most,

is at night when I fall asleep,

because I know it will be back as soon as I wake.