when I write, I am at peace.

After a year, my love still yearns—

Of everlasting joy—

A heart does not beat—just to live—

Just to fathom—

But to endure—such heartaches, a death of so called

In memories that lay in milieu—

You remind of a song—

That when once heard—

It keeps the heart's melted—

Unable to speak—to draw, but to feel,

I could feel you in this everlasting tune—

I could feel you—after years,

I will yearn for more—

A more—my love—a more fruitful love,

Tomorrow—of endless times.

I feel, deep within me, are regrets, nowadays. It's suffocating—that wallows in my sleep as it lingers, through my memories. I could never forget her—even if I pushed through, there's always that guilt and sadness that reoccurs everytime I think of her. This is the way love does everyone who ventures it. In my mind, she was a familiar road, the one where I could take with my eyes closed—the lights in blinding darkness, towards home and I would never wander off far from her. This is the way love does to anyone, it keeps you hoping that it's a beautiful morning, when you always want to end the suffering. This is the way love works, it kills you slowly, as it has woven it's way through the fabrics of your skin, as she has become the image of your heart, of your soul's upbringings. Now, what is left when love is gone? You are left ruined—unbearable through out the seasons. I could still see her in my sleep—the sleepless nights, she became a refuge, yet it's in my head alone. She was never there anymore. All that is left is unusable things. Useless, its true purpose is misery.

But I have to say, I appreciate the loss. As it kills me each morning, it keeps me closer to the untouched part of myself. I have nothing anymore but, I have everything to explore.

This is stopping at this moment forward. You are neither a love nor a friend, I have no more to expect but, time. The regret is you all along. I loved you, with all my freedom. Now, everything will stop.

Of all the things I want.

In quietness, I want myself to grow—

I want a heart that is fond of all things beautiful,

I want a peaceful life—

That I can scream and feel better.

I want a heart that yearns for growth—

I want my love to be, love and fondness—

Love and gentleness—of ever understanding,

I want a life that is free of worldly problems,

I want craziness—I want comfort,

I want it in an instant—am free of all worries and weariness,

There's this pleasure that I feel—

As I remember her in sleep—

It lingers like frosted snow—

An air conditioned room, it gives me shivers

She shivers my heart—my soul on fire—

The train in my mind—

A quietness in sight—i hear her whispers,

Close to my ears—screaming, slow wonderful songs,

I visualize her—

Of blooming flower fields atop a garden villa

Sipping iced cold coffee,

Eating—enjoying the sun—

It wasn't scorching—I remember her skin,

Glowing, in radiance of the morning,

I remember her, I remember her deeply—

It is pleasurable indeed—

She was serene—like I remembered her to be.

Now I'm back again—

There's no serenity in my life anymore.

Just sad—an old piece of fruit,

Unpeeled—in my arms I trust nothing but time.

And suddenly, the space you've left

Left a mark—

That can withstand tragedy—

Embellish me with all your anger,

But I would still find love in you.

Not in this times, I believe in my heart—

Not when I am becoming whole again—

I hold my heart—deep, as if it was breaking me,

Slow, and agonizing—so here, I am still.

I love you—I don't think it will ever fade,

But does my heart wants you?

I believe it wants to love on their own,

I'd let them love their self, than to love you more.

And I am not in love with you anymore, my love.

I am certain—and I am well.

My head should be dead by now.

Rested and unconscious—

From the pandemonium,

The constant struggle for survival has brought.

Barely beneath the surface—

I thought I could handle the fires—

That scald me—afraid to hold onto you,

I lied—to a heart that's yearning you

I lied—that it hurt me,

It never did—what did scarred me,

Was the day I lied amidst the chaos I brought—

I will love—as if I never did

I shall love—as I first experienced it

I am in love—in both life that we may depart,

I'd do anything to keep this love—

The stacks of mistakes—

Piles up on my table top—where now,

I can't write—

I can't rest my soul on fire, my soul depleted.

I chose to delete my love—yet you chose

To restore—you gave me a chance to live forward.

Wait—in patience and in truth,

I will wait for this time—like we yearn from times

Where we cradle our hearts

In the warmth of our dreams—

I will look for another reason, a pleasant road—

To be closer to you, in growth—

For better now, now is a good place to start again.

Of the heartbreaks I felt—

None was comparable to me

Than this—a willful woman of fire and warmth,

Yearning for the sun—

In the winter's dread—she heated me, restlessly.

Have I never felt like this in a lifetime,

Maybe I could have never loved anymore.

Days will gone sad,

Weather will storm out,

Not my heart,

This yearns for the pain—

This yearns for the mark that you left.

Never have felt a ruin so devastating—

It left me alive rather than rotting.

And I shared a life with you—

And now I'll share both our freedoms.

Mesmerize me, Gabriela.

Reminiscing you afar, through the glasses of love.

I love you, everlastingly—

I'll shall see you.

— Ivan

So vile, the wind of cold January—

Made me feverish, unto my bed,

It shivers off winter frost

My skin's misty and wilted,

And sleep, so irreverent—

Guess—my shallow soul has come but, close

Never will I ever be happy past summer seasons,

Where all I ever did one time, is to love her—

Irrevocably—unlike my own self,

I showed her love that restores—

Soon shall end and withhold paradise.

My own self has revoked the love once known.

It is not the stories that I tell,

Nor the poems I write to her,

Sings her of blissful sorrow—perfumed linens.

Her sudden changes—her fondness,

Her total allegiance to the art of love,

Breaks my heart so deviously—she is in control.

Please be the death of me—

Then all the poems I have wrote,

the realest form—

affection and desire lasts,

through lenghty talks,

and warm cups of coffee

through eye contacts,

and unflinching laughter.

show me love that is true,

a place of conformity,

a safe zone—

where we can be tired upon the antics of the world,

yet we still let ourselves learn something new from each other.

find me a love, that will last so long,

I endured the past years—

Deprived of love, and said words.

It was a heart, in need of care,

A young self—pitied my current time.

I could have loved—

A woman, maddened by the lust

Of the youthful times.

I shall never again, be one.

Long for I endured my self—

Gratifying alone, the desires.

Such hurt felt by the senseful mind,

Neither love or passionate words.

I once, felt her touch my chest—

It lasted long—until I wanted more.

Youth is the epitome of life—

Suddenly her world, for now—

In a slow, cascading voice

Whispered softness, and care—

All that was left behind—riveting sounds

It aches her heart in times of loud voices,

Shoutings restless banters—

Inside her place she rests upon once,

Now unkown, knew as her refuge worth escaping,

She held on to the hope of wandering—

Towards places of loud noises still,

Yet warm to sleep, to rest her sunken heart.

Loud is familiar—but peace is new, at last—

Cats. Oh you gentle souls.

Never would they ask for anything else—

What selfless beings—

You watch as they go on and about—

As they bathe their minds in sunlight.

They will never care for your time—

Never ask nor beg for your attention—

They live in this world on their own,

Inside their own, little bubble.

My companion now—and for long.

Love them infinitely—give them all—

In exchange for all the amazement, life truly means beauty.

I fear when I wake—

After the sleepless nights that we venture on,

Your mad, glistening eyes—

It despices me—my existence,

You made me benign and neglected.

But then again—I am the embodiment of loneliness

You—you are loved, I shall go as I want,

I feel that I need myself more—

Than to tolerate a withering hope like you.

I am hopeless.

I care less now that the days show vibrancy,

It is beautiful—unlike the days of remembering,

You hurt me—

And I shall be, by remembering your falseness.

It will never be a goodbye—

That fascinates me—

Even in the mundane—a sound so normal,

A quiet, quiet release of sighs and eyes—

I see her happily—in my company, just as sadness,

Just as in anger, even in tiredness—I see her still.

I caved in so wonderfully in her—

To her antics—to her all,

I will always stay for you—

Not always for the love—but for you, of all the people—

I shall stay present—everlastingly present, for you.

I am losing my senses.

I might just take a bath.

Cleanse me.

Please.

I beg of you.

Can I enjoy life—for just a brief period and then—