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Teenage dream (haiku)

What if I told you

That all I ever wanted

Was a teenage dream?

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A Guide To Being A Romantic (Haiku)

you don’t need a crush

to write poems about love

(or romantic songs)

- 29.2.2024

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Wondering

Wondering if I could

Lean in and kiss you

And make your heart flutter

Like how you do to mine

Wondering if it’s okay

To hold you

To hug you and shield you

From this world of lies

Wondering if I can be

Someone you’ll remember

Long past today and tomorrow

Even after the age of sixty

Wondering if it’s alright

Staying up all night

Wondering if it’s fine

To feel the way I do

And wondering if you’ll want

Me the way I want you

Or maybe you’ll be disgusted

Hate me, even

But still

I continue

To wonder

In silence

(My words can hide

But my heart can’t lie)

- 29.2.2024

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時光

How many more high-fives

How many more times

How many more deaths

Will I have to bear?

Each timeline you die

With me a second too late

And each time I go back

It never seems to change

I’m stuck in a torment

A gaping wound that seems to

Never heal and never close

No matter what I do

One second you were warm

And then you’ll be cold

And I’ll be left here screaming

Picking up broken pieces alone

Sometimes I ask, why—

Why do I still continue

When I know there’s nothing waiting for me

At the end of this cruel misery?

But then I remember your smile

Your hands, warm with life

Cheeks ruddy with summer heat or

Nose red with winter breeze

And eyes of slate amber

Burning holes through my skin as you

Hold me and kiss me

And ask me if everything’s alright

Not knowing that I’ll be sent reeling

Back to the timeline before this timeline

Back to breaking the fourth wall

From a memory to reality

(A reality I’m desperate to change

A reality that’s making me cave

In to breaking my own promise and rules

To dive back into time)

- 25.2.2024

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Too soon was this love (Haiku)

The first flowers bloom

In bright firework shapes, but—

It’s not even spring

- 17-2-2024

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My heel’s always been like Achilles’ (Re: My heel’s starting to become like Achilles’)

Do Kings cry for broken things

Do Emperors spend timidly?

Do Gods cry for the living

The same for the buried?

Do immortal hearts swell for mortals

Do their veins run bloated with blood?

Does pain strike them as heavy

When homes are destroyed from floods?

Does incense burn their skin and throat

With ash and woody notes?

Do offerings ache their chest with pity

Or wobbles of laughter and greed?

Do they hail from the top of Everest

To chase away grief?

Do they wave away reverence

And tell mortals there's no need?

Am I the only one?

Whose immortal heart swell for mortals

Whose vein bloats with blood

Who cries with pain upon seeing

Homes struck with savage floods

Whose throat burns with incense

Till the walls of my chest turn grey

Recoil at the sound of offerings

Whose lives were taken away

They call me weak

They call me stupid

A disgrace, when I should be

Soaking up all the reverence

But what is there to love

About blind worship and fame

When not a single immortal

Lifts a finger to aid?

Or is this all speaking

From a heart of a mortal?

- 16-2-2034

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My heel’s starting to become like Achilles’

He picks up

That frightening blade

And cuts through

The roots of my wings

Snow feathers fall

Agonisingly gentle

As mortals gather

To witness winter

He lowers

That frightening blade

And watches as gold

Turns into crimson blood

Veins form

Excruciatingly weak

That shatters with

Every small scrape

I clutch

Those snowflake pieces

And stitch them together

Into makeshift wings

He shakes

Me, off the heavens

Looking away as I grip harder

Onto those wings

10-2-2024

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It has been so long (that you’ve been disconnected)

It has been so long

That you’ve been disconnected

From my own Wifi

Memories of you

No longer stays in the codes

But needs renewal

You’d come to my house

(Or maybe you won’t–) and join

My Wifi network

And to be greeted

With a long-forgotten sight

“Enter the password.”

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Winter

My hands warmed in wooly gloves

Imitated hot springs in bathtubs

Cities fall quiet earlier than usual

Even the sun is weary from the frigid cold

Chills erupt in forms of goosebumps

Every breeze is a branding ice

The world feels lonely at this time

Where will the noises go?

Will they leap over mountains

Cross swamps frozen into ice

Decide to make snow angels

Decorate trees with fireflies?

And at the end will they settle

Back to the throngs of hills

Or will they continue to meddle

With the lives of spring vales?

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Icarus

I am Icarus,

You, the Sun.

If the one to tear me apart is you,

I would allow so.

Curse me and my chains,

This intolerable foul taste,

Wraps around my tongue, mind and soul—

It’s tarnished, and you know;

I was never meant to reach for the Sun,

It blinds me as how you blind the crowd,

Aimlessly I wander reaching for the star,

Only to realise, artificial it was.

You have to realise;

There was never ‘us’ in this,

Only ‘you’ and ‘me’,

As separate lives to be.

So it’s okay to harm,

If you’re the one holding the gun;

If you’re the one saying you’re done,

With the bullshit I’ve caused and begun.

Curse me,

It’s okay to kill me,

It won’t hurt at all—

(We’re not one soul, after all.

Maybe once, but not forever more.)

8-10-2023

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The sky’s pink, and purple, and lavender too.

Fog drizzled with rain, things too few.

6-10-2023

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The heavens could bow down to me, and I then would still be undeserving of you.