How

How could I be happy with someone who isn’t you?

How could I be happy when you’re not there to be happy too?

How could I want someone else now that we have met?

How could I go about using someone else to help me forget?

How could I be satisfied with stars now that I’ve seen the sun?

How could I want to reach the end when it’s only just begun?

How could I let you slip away when I’ve wanted you for years?

How could I ponder it all without being struck by tears?

How could I let my fate be so recklessly told?

How could I settle for steel after feasting my eyes upon gold?

How could I watch one of those fools try to steal my heart?

How could I let my dreams of you be suddenly torn apart?

How could I turn the page when I’m still stuck on your word?

How could I forget your voice—the prettiest thing I’ve heard?

How could I let myself be weak when I’ve sworn to be tough?

How could I admit that of you I haven’t had enough?

How could I submit to their smiles when they do not compare?

How could I let my eyes drift closed when I see you everywhere?

In all these questions, one word to me stands out—

If I can’t claim your love as mine, then “how?”

 

Four Days

I saw you on a Tuesday

Amidst a sea of bodies, a plethora of faces—

Faces lit up with liveliness yet holding no light for me—

An overcast sky, but the sun shone suddenly

When I saw you on a Tuesday.

 

Forget it, I thought,

But forgetting that face is like forgetting the stars—

Such an impossible and foolish feat;

On pitch black nights I will need the memory

Of when I saw you on a Tuesday.

 

I met you on a Wednesday

At a table full of people who made me feel alone;

I felt your approach intensely before you came

Like a railroad feeling a coming train—

You shook me when we met on a Wednesday.

 

A handful of exchanged words,

An apprehension that would sear at the touch—

I watched and was caught when I let my eyes roam,

And never before did I feel more alone

Than when I met you on a Wednesday.

 

The past flashed before my eyes

And left me as stranded as the present,

Which was a joy so great it felt like a void of sorrow;

My heart told me, “You’ll regret this tomorrow,”

But I already regretted meeting you on a Wednesday.

 

I missed you on a Thursday,

Drowning in the water I let slip through my fingers

When all I wanted was a drink—I watch it in my mind,

A silent film unfolding in black-and-white—

I missed my chance—and you on a Thursday.

 

Despair was deferred only by the hope

Of basking again in your Tuesday-light

And redeeming myself by reliving that Wednesday meet;

I will not let that Thursday repeat—

There was a glimmer of hope for a Friday.

 

Anguish

 

My days—my precious days!—where do they go

 

When I’m immersed in dreams of you and I?

 

My time—my treasured time!—how it does fly!

 

This fantasy of mine is all I know,

 

For when I’m living life I am in woe,

 

And my foe, Anguish, is whom I defy

 

With these dreams in which there is no goodbye

 

And no reason to ever say hello.

 

My love has not been false to any end;

 

Reality appears to have no heart—

 

If anything it wants for us to part,

 

For it does not show sympathy to truth.

 

It seems as though Anguish is its best friend:

 

The adversary of the love-struck youth.

 

Once-Lost Hopes

 

The brightness of the room had faded—that, or just my eyes were jaded—

Jaded like how I feel when my mind flips back to you,

And it does that quite often; I admit my heart does soften

After I have firstly hardened—every time, as though on cue.

 

I was rather conflicted for it wasn’t as predicted:

I had thought that maybe you’d appear and want to stay around.

I started to consider leaving as soon as I stopped believing

That both you and my hopelessly lost hopes could be found.

 

Making for the door, I swear—but then I saw you standing there

In the threshold with my lost hopes held out in your hand.

I stifled back a relieved sigh and made sure not to catch your eye—

Kicking myself for not being confident, as planned.

 

An hour uneventful passed; I struggled to make seconds last

But all for naught—you never so much as glanced in my way.

My heavy heart was sinking, and down with it went my thinking

That perhaps this wait for your love would conclude itself today.

 

I risked a peek in your direction, for I longed to see perfection;

You were packing up your things to go, I realized.

I mustered up my bravery, and before I could choose to flee,

I’d already looked into your forget-me-not blue eyes.

 

Somehow I managed talking instead of me merely gawking,

Yet such were my nerves that I can’t bring to mind what I did speak.

Nonetheless your smile made everything worth the while,

And I swear I saw a tiny dimple indent your left cheek.

 

Ironically, I wished you’d leave, for right then, I could barely breathe;

You took your things and went your way without hesitancy.

But your smile had shone so bright that I knew I’d said something right,

And I was glad to have my once-lost hopes returned to me.

 

Now when I’m reminiscing I see that romance was missing,

But it’s clear that you and I both witnessed sparks go off that day.

We can be secret sweethearts and pray silently to the stars

That someday one of us will have the courage to change our fate.

 

Jack & Jill

 

Jill’s been waiting on a hill for long as she remembers—

She’s cold and all alone in this last week before November.

Jack is walking by and finds this aforementioned hill;

He decides to make the climb and that’s when he meets Jill.

 

Jack is nothing special, but there’s something in his eyes—

Jill is something special, but it’s never realized.

Nonetheless, Jack thinks that maybe this hill could be home—

He grins at Jill, and she forgets she was ever alone.

 

They kid around until they’re tired of their own jokiness—

He loves how her laugh bubbles out with every word he says.

Each time his gaze darts toward her, she sees and can’t help but wonder

If he, too, might be falling for this spell she’s been put under.

 

But one day Jack decides that it’d be best if he returned—

His friends are waiting down below and surely they’re concerned.

Jill, crossing her arms, is forced to swallow down her pride—

She turns her face away from him so he won’t see her cry.

 

Jack leaves the hill, but so does Jill—the latter in a huff;

She tromps her way down to the ground, cursing her own bad luck.

She hopes that she won’t ever find someone like Jack again—

A boy who seems so perfect but who’ll break her in the end.

 

Meanwhile, Jack forgot to fetch that damned old pail of water—

He climbs the hill just like he did the first day that he saw her.

Jill is at the bottom while she watches it with glee:

Jack falls down and there’s no one who’s as broken as he.

 

In A Perfect World

 

If he ever says he fell in love,

I surely wouldn’t think he meant with me.

.

                                                    If someday she tells me I’m the one,

                                                    What a beautiful lie that would be.

.

I saw it to be true since dawn arose;

Something told me, “He will steal your heart.”

.

                                                    It took me ‘till night fell but now I know

                                                    That I should have loved her from the start.

.

He’s nothing special—of this I am sure,

But to me, he’s imperfectly perfect.

.

                                                    There’s nothing lacking perfection in her—

                                                    How could she ever think that I am worth it?

.

I’m waiting, wishing, counting down the days;

The heart’s calendar is fast yet far too slow.

.

                                                    What should I do when I next see her face?

                                                    I’ve thought for hours but still I don’t know.

                                                                       .

In a perfect world, you’ll say my name.

We’ll talk and talk ‘till everyone is gone.

It’ll be clear that you feel the same,

And all my negativity was wrong.

 .

They’ll judge us as we fall in love too fast.

From then on we’ll share everything we do.

You’ll whisper to me the truth at long last:

“My world’s perfect as long as I have you.”

..

A Familiar Stranger

           She is running, the heels of her five-inch Barbie pink stilettos click-clacking against the pavement as her legs furiously thrust forward. Her dress is torn; her heavily made-up face has become pale, and her eyes, outlined in a thick contour of black, are as wide as that of a deer caught in the headlights. When she trips on her own feet, she flings off her shoes and continues running barefoot, her neon-colored toenails gleaming like beacons in the darkness. It is a midsummer’s night, but her arms are prickled with goose bumps, and shivers tingle up her spine. She glances over her shoulder and quickens her pace, her breath coming in short but heavy intervals, making it seem like she is gasping for oxygen. The air smells strongly of drink; she can still taste the alcohol that had passed over her tongue a just a short while ago. At this moment, however, she is not overtaken by the effects of drink, for the adrenaline pumping within her seemed to have beaten out all other sensations in her body. Her heartbeat is flying; she looks behind her once more, her eyes searching for something in the night. Perhaps she imagines it, but for one terrifying second, she catches sight of a figure in the shadows—a moving outline blacker than the surrounding gloom. She begins to tremble. Her bottom lip quivers, and a chilling scream escapes her throat. Her eyes dart desperately toward the several unlit mansions along the road, but no help comes. She is alone.

            Except—she’s not.

            Her body tenses as something sharp bounces off the back of her head. It lands behind her, and she stops to see what it was: one of her own hot pink stiletto shoes. A warm trickle of blood oozes down onto her neck, which is suddenly grasped by ice-cold fingers. They wrap around her tightly, sending her into an oblivion darker than the shades of night. The last thing she hears is a raspy, all-too-familiar whisper:

            “I have you now.”