#scentedword

dear candle,

i know you don't trust

your light

it's little and fragile

and how you're

slowly melting

like tears

that eventually dries

when it touches the floor

i know how it scares you

to be left alone

in the darkness, lifeless

but i will try

to shape you again

and again

more than

a star

to create

a constellation

woman,

be one

somedays you'd call me a flower. my beauty will fade after a hundred season but my heart—is a giant oak tree. my veins are rooted six feet below where our love is buried. you don't have to water me with lies. my trunk is capable to wait for the strong rain to come and bathe me. i don't need the butterflies, i've got birds on my branches to sing me lullabies. and i won't be needing the care of your hands, the universe is enough to create a forest with me.

and to the nights you call me a dream come true, let it stay that way. let our love be a song our hearts sung in a forgotten dream. —𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑.

𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗

𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚒𝚕

𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢.

𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠

𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚞𝚍𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢

watch how a woman

become one with earth

that she can grow a mountain

and makes the earth abundant

with rare gems—

you are a one of a kind soul.

ask her, she would do it again

for the world.

at a later time people will detach themselves from you—like autumn does to trees. there will be days they will fall one by one, and days they'll walk away at once.

then you will know winter has come, your days and night will be colder. loneliness will sip through your pores—in the  traces of their detachment, and yearning will hug your soul. you'll go running into your bed, grab the thickest blanket, and jam yourself for warmth.

when autumn falls

we are all going to

look back to summer;

of how our skin

photosynthesize

under the sun. how

the heat flows in

our veins like fuel that

fires up our passion.

our glory days where

we spent our lives

in garden full of

flowers and butterflies

in our stomach and

bees in our hearts. or

the beach summer

love where the sea

kissed our wounds

and waves washed

the footprints of

the passersby.

we are going to look

back to our old soul

with wishful thinking.

against all odds, be