I write

to her stories, shielded by

confidence and endurance,

waiting to be explored.

I love to solve the mysteries.

Every time she speaks,

her voice becomes an orchestra,

her hands conducting the music.

My mind dances to the tune,

drifting into a trance

only she could break.

She wears her flaws as medals,

yet still counts them as stars.

What she doesn’t know is this—

she is the Sun, too bright for me

to ever notice those stars.

That are rotting

Underneath the Earth,

I still hear your whispers—

Whispers of your loneliness,

Of your helplessness,

Of your longing.

Yet I am barely able

To touch your face,

Like a passing wind,

To wipe that

Lone tear

Spilling over your

Wrinkled cheeks.

And I feel it.

Every time,

You freeze,

As if you felt me

Trying to console you,

Embrace you.

So I tremble—

Enough to shake the

Tree that’s rooted

Underneath the same Earth

That I am being burned into.

And it shakes,

Just enough

For its flowers to

Shower on you

And make you realize—

That I am, and

I will always be,

There.

Everywhere,

And in

Everything.

Holding you.

Grounding you.

🥀✒️

When the nights get colder

and when you can't feel the warmth anymore,

When the nights seem longer

and when you can't hold on anymore,

When the nights are filled with bewilderment

and when you can't understand anything anymore,

When the nights are empty

and when you can't feel anything anymore,

and as if seeping into the void,

Remember ~

The moon is with you

even on the days when it is tucked under the clouds

and it will listen to you all the more in your silence.

At that moment,

flowers that are trying to bloom

will fill the void with their fragrance

leaving you unrestraint.

As the nightingale sings you a lullaby,

you doze off slowly,

snugging yourself under the blanket heedlessly.

When you wake up,

everything seems to fall in place

and the previous night

With turquoise sky overhead

as the dawn breaks

The mist covering the leaves faded away.

The immaculate first light

hitting the face left me in bewilderment.

What lasts long -

Feeling euphoric from dawn till dusk?

Or

Feeling restricted from dusk till dawn?

Thus I want to be baby's breath.

Blooming by mustering all the joy from day

and enduring throughout the shadows.

As they say-

even the worst flower growers can't kill

From dancing together in the meadow,

to sharing blankets under the moon.

From cringing over experiences,

to lending a shoulder.

From being a partner in crime,

to being a guide in need.

Through thick and thin and in all wakes of life,

their presence will never be a regret.

Sometimes it is a pleasant wind that carries fragrance, while sometimes it is a gush of wind that crushes everything in its way.

But most importantly, they have always been -

A moonlight that illuminates gloominess and

It's not always about what's right or what's wrong.

Sometimes it can be whether you like it or not.

I wanted to be the moon rabbit -

granting all the wishes you ever asked for,

every time you looked at the moon.

A door to the sky -

that would lead you to the galaxy,

every time you wanted to escape from the chaos.

But the pangs of conscience

from the past stung deeper than holler.

Yet I wonder if I can still be -

I never scolded you for anything, did I?

I never blamed you for anything, did I?

I never stopped talking to you, did I?

I ran and ran around you, only to get pushed away, but I didn't stop coming back to you, did I?

I loved you even when you didn't, did I?

I wasn't hard to love, was I?