You craved for my company,

You said it would just take time;

So I waited.

You promised me soon you will reciprocate my feelings,

Despite breaking my heart in the process many times;

So I stayed.

But truth is you just liked the idea that I love you,

You just enjoyed the feeling of being loved;

So I felt used.

But you didn’t love me back,

Nor would you ever do;

So I got tired.

You just used my love for you,

Until it was all gone;

So I left.



(featured image courtesy:


From the lingering smell of a girl’s perfume on the collar of your shirt as I snuggle on your neck, I was supposed to feel the warmth of your embrace but I felt cold. Cold as if a bucket full of water with ice was poured on me, as I realised the perfume isn’t mine. It began. Was it a crime to accuse you all at once?

I thought it was so the benefit of doubt was the least I could give. But the constant ringing of your phone whenever you were with me and the hint of a smile from your lips as you opened the message told me this doesn’t seem like a text message you’ve received from one of your teammates. It continued. Would I sound like a lawyer if I interrogated you?


I didn’t want to sound like a lawyer so I let it pass. We never lied to each other but here was a thing I wouldn’t admit. There were times when I followed you wherever you go because of these aching accusations etched in my mind fuelled by your suspicious actions I couldn’t set aside. It escalated. Could I be sued for being a stalker of someone who was supposed to be the love of my life?


At this point I did not care anymore as I sketched an elaborate plan to confirm these suspicions that stopped me from having a peaceful sleep at night. Your actions kept me awake as I recalled the old-you whenever you were with me. I sulked more upon the realisation that you’ve never been this distant before. It led me to drastic measures and could you blame me when you, the supposed love of my life, drifted away as if an ocean is between us? It went out of control. Am I the suspect of this crime?


The answer was no. When one day we’re together, you told me you need to go. You brushed me off like dust when I asked and the conversation even heated when all I wanted to know was what was happening between us. You said we were fine but you know damn well we were far from that. The only right thing you did was to leave your phone when you walked out the door and there I saw the main evidence in this mystery I’ve been trying to solve. This last and most crucial clue brought me to the crime scene. I saw you kissing her. It ended. I knew I was the victim and I’m suing you for committing murder.


Now don’t you dare tell me that you are not a murderer; because you killed me the moment I saw you with her.



(featured image courtesy: deviant art)

Never the Same (World Suicide Prevention Day)

Your parents would pass by your room, and everything would come back in a snap. How they found your lifeless body, ran to you and shook you non-stop just to find out they were minutes late. Your siblings didn’t just lose their wrestling opponent, but one of their idols. That one person they always look up to. Your best friend would sit in tears upon the announcement in school. Even that seatmate who used to kick your chair just to annoy you? He’d be devastated. He’d blame himself. Your teachers? They’d think it’s their fault for not being enough to make the school comfortable for you. You think no one cares? Your family does, your friends do, the people around you, too. Someone right now is thinking of you. Because I do. I may not exactly know how you feel but I know how to feel so f*cked up to the point that I thought ending my life is the only answer. But then I remember, this world is also f*cked up, anyway. Even steven. So let’s all be f*cked up’s in this f*cked up world and LIVE. Might as well witness it. After all, real life is tragic but it’s perfectly worth it. That’s the most optimistic speech you can get from someone pessimistic like me. But please, if you reach this point in my long arse plea, please continue on living your life. You’re never alone because someone will always care. Please don’t die. Trust me when I say, without you the world might not stop rotating and revolving but I know it won’t ever be the same.


You warned me anyway

Your favourite colour was black.

And you explain awhile back;

Just like your soul, you said.

But when I’m with you,

My cheeks so red.

‘LOVE,’ it is what they say;

No more of these thoughts so gray.

But then your soul came in the way.

Proving you weren’t here to stay.

The purple sky, I look up to

As you left me and my feelings so blue.




(featured image courtesy of


And yes, it was a universal force,

Something natural, physical.

It occurs to anyone:

To you, me, whoever really.

And as Newton formulated,

what comes up must come down.

There I was up—way, way up

On Cloud Nine.

But just like the apple in the tree,

Not too long will my stay be.

So let it do the job.

Leave it to gravity;

‘Cause I’m actually not afraid to fall,

I’m just afraid you wouldn’t catch me.



(photo courtesy of


no one realises

how powerful it is

until he or she



or loses it.


it can either

make or break you,

that’s what love does.


or shatter

one’s own heart.


but there are

indeed times like this,

where love could turn



a writer.


there are others,

many others out there:

they tend to turn 





there are others,

many others like me:

they tend to turn






(featured image courtesy of

Glowing (Poem Version)

That was how I felt when I’m beside you.

You are the one who gives me light. 

You are the cause of this 

spark radiating off me. 



That was me whenever we’re together. 

The late-night sneaking off, 

the movie marathons, 

the ice cream dates downtown. 



That was me whenever we 

argue over the pettiest things.

You somehow bring out both

the best and worst in me.



That was me when I knew it was worth it.

At the end of the day, 

our differences make us 

closer to each other.



That was me until time 

came that you need to go. 

Distance—the reason why 

you could do it no more.



That was me before

you decided to let go;

before you said we need 

to move on with our separate lives. 



That was me when 

I followed you. 

Distance—an actual hindrance;

So I lessened it.



That was me before 

I saw you with that certain someone.

Miles away from what you used to call home, 

you’re kissing. I knew I was the past. 



That was me until 

that unforgettable day;

Suddenly, the lights in me

decided to fade away.



(featured image courtesy of


P.S. I’ve also written a prose about this not so long ago. If you want to read it, check this out.

Unreciprocated (8 words in 8 lines collection)

Maybe I’m too busy hoping to be yours,

To be able to look for somebody new.


Or I am just dumb any other way,

To actually wait to be noticed by you.


But don’t you worry, my dear and precious,

I won’t let things get out of hand.


The time I harboured these feelings for you,

You don’t and won’t ever reciprocate, I understand. 



(featured image ctto)

Don’t Write Fairytales; Live One

ROMANCE NOVELS ARE the epitome of picture-perfect life anyone could have asked for. They portray a life where boy meets girl, good girl meets bad boy, cheery meets enigma, pauper meets prince, peasant meets billionaire, and insert here whatever couple you like. Just like every other unique story, romance novelists point out the irony about typical books depicting uncomplicated love stories with a common plot.

Personally, I do not think I could stereotype that most romance books contain the same, boring plot because I have a limited share of books I have read that fall under this genre. Fortunately, the limited amount of books in this category that I have come across seem to deeply and accurately delineate the true to life and seemingly believable struggles and conflicts of fictional but relatable characters.

I believe it’s just about picking the right books which truly knows the term complication but at the same time, arrives at a worth-the-wait happily ever after. At least the characters attain an ending they deserve after all they’ve been through (although I admit my usual pessimistic self is a sucker for tragedy).

But the real point here is that the amount of books one has read can make one crave for something similar in their own lives. However, everyone’s life moves as unique as everyone else’s.

Perhaps, that’s the reason why no one can create a real-life love story that goes exactly like that of a certain plot featured in romance novels. No one ever happens to write a fairytale and turn the precise fictitious events into reality.

I suppose it is because the best love stories are never merely written–they are lived. 

So when the right time comes, don’t write your own fairytale. Live the one you deserve.


(featured image courtesy: pinterest)