Wish #4

I wish that you are a series of paper-cut man that I can hang in my room.

Submit #1

I spit kisses to the ground, when you're walking in front.

Wish #3

Wouldn't it be nice to have a mini you that I can keep in the back pocket of my jeans?

Yesternow

It's like high school all over again. Awed by the presence of the person that I have a crush on, but I have to keep it all to myself.

Hush, hush. Not a soul is supposed to know.

Not that person. Not yet. I'll wait till I'm a bit older.

It's like high school all over again.

Wish #2

I wish that I can chop off your head and keep it under my shirt.

Love Talk at 29

Jack:
Gave up?

Jill:
What?
To fall in love?

Jack:
Yeap.

Jill:
Should i?

Jack:
Honestly you should.
Love is vapid.

Jill:
I should give up?

Jack:
Yes.
Just get married already.

Jill:
Why?
Would it be different?

Jack:
Yeah.
It means u gave up.

Jill:
Owh
Did you give up?

Jack:
Gave up trying.

Jill:
Gave up trying to fall in love?
But if you were already in love, and if you are in love, you don't have to try to fall in love?

Jack:
Depends.
Sometimes if you can't, then you improvise.

Jill:
Are you in love?

Jack:
Tough question.
Are you?

Jill:
Why is it tough?
I asked you first.

Jack:
You don't think it's tough?

Jill:
To decide whether or not you're in love?
I guess not.
But to cope, it's a different thing.
I think.

Jack:
How can you tell?
Butterflies?
Shivers?
That you're in love?
Is a crush,
Love?

Jill:
You're gonna say that it's subjective, aren't you?

Jack:
Subjective is an understatement.

My New Blanket

When I was growing up, I was constantly visited by clouds of feelings. I say clouds because I can feel them surround me as if they were light entities. Just there floating, to be seen, but only by feeling. Sometimes they are just around my physical body, and sometimes they stretch as far as the horizon.

There were also times that some feelings wrap around me so tightly like a blanket that I clutch to protect me from the cold. I often use 'blanket' in my younger days of writing poetry. Because it felt right.

Blanket of night,
blanket of darkness,
blanket of soul.

When something blankets you, there is nothing else. Just you, and the blanket separates you from the rest of the world.

And here you are, my new piece of blanket.