I haven’t written a poem(or something like it) for quite some time.

I walked by my old university yesterday. (Well, I always go that way whenever I do my shopping.) As I head home, I recalled how a classmate told me that he ‘knows’ I got a crush on someone because I was staring at that person.

I know I have a tendency to stare a lot. They say that staring is rude but there are times that I can’t help it. Usually, my curiosity leads me to get fixated on something - wait, I’m losing my point.

Anyway, when I remembered that, I thought of writing something about it… 

_______________________________________

I’d gladly replace my x for a y

if that would stop me from staring

at this fella’s long shiny mane,

or his kind eyes,

or his warm smile.

My x for a y

if that could free me from noticing

the increase of his hair length

or the patterns of his bag

or the frequency of wearing that specific shirt.

I would care less of his existence

if I have a y.

I wouldn’t mind him

if I have a y.

Instead, my eyes will drift off

to one with two x’s.

And it wouldn’t be bothersome

if to her my eyes get fixated

or if I moved close enough

to ask for her name

or even her number.

That’s the way it goes.

That’s the way, they say, it should go.

I descend. 

Watching the expanse of 
hundred stories 
run by my side; 

in a span of minutes, 
nay, seconds, 
I’ll be hitting the ground. 

Pride fueled the ambition 
or perhaps the idea 
that you’ll carry me. 

Yet, as I ascended 
you let me go. 

Nonchalant. 

As if my wings 
can break my fall.

-written sometime last year through Typetrigger

It’s no different from everywhere else, 
where I’m from. 

Why treat each other differently?

||an excerpt from the output based on the “trigger” phrase, “Where I’m From”

You, who have studied
both the core and the surface, 
can easily crack 
a hole from the inside. 

Like what a trusted ensign did 
to the Moorish general, 
what you can do to me 
is the fear I continue to bide.

||an excerpt from the output based on the “trigger” phrase, “It scares me that”

I stayed there

in that moment

when I have your hand in mine.

And the time stood still

with your face looking down at me

as I can’t help but to try to conceal

how I fidget behind my smile.

Or maybe,

time moved slower

just like what they do in the movies.

….

The hope brought by

the words you imparted,

makes me long to see again

not long after you departed.

I should stop looking.

No matter how near you are,

or how far you wander off,

You will always find your way to me

That is how it is supposed to be.

Or so I believe.

Distance should not be a hindrance

Not even time

The possibility of gravitating

towards each other is inevitable.

That is how it is supposed to be.

Or so I believe.

We are meant to be together.

We are made for each other.

I am born from your rib.

You are my Adam, I am your Eve.

That is how it is supposed to be.

But that is what I just believe.

Random thought. For no one in particular. Seriously.