Here's To Someone, Pt. 2

Could it be / that besides the moon, / there’s one planet / who also fell for the sun? / Could it be / that she was broken, / and because she cannot bleed, / she cried until she died / while her tears scattered across the Milky Way / and they’re the stars / we see in the evening sky?

April 21, 2014 (eusie.)

i "plant your lips on my body like a flower and let them wither ii “and i’ll paint the color of your eyes anew iii “the midnight moonlight slips through my brittle bones iv “and i fall on my knees; i can’t pretend; i’m falling, and falling v “you are my favorite time of day, my favorite night of sad vii “the warmest the end of my handmade fairytale viii “lay me down on an open road; put me on the end of the rope ix “falling in love is dangerous, but falling for you is chaos x “you are an echo from a dark cave i shouldn't enter xi “you are a hole on my parachute, a fire ready to conquer xii “tie me with your breathless kiss and let me shiver all the pain xiii “the dawn will paint our skies orange but i’ll only love your glinted eyes xiv “and you’re the only one i’ll let to love me to death, to kill me further xv “you are, you are, you are my favorite sin of all” — listening to “trouble i’m in” by twinbed (eusie.)

Alone

Under the stars and not mistletoe, she slow danced her way onto the snow — her eyes reflected the loneliness of the moon; her lips can tell the paleness of her life’s tune.

( ayen. & eusie. )

November 12, 2013

a.k.a. A Haiku

Like a daffodil, he’s my life’s greatest mistake — the best misfortune.

(eusie.)

Yes I want to write this fic. No I don’t want to figure out what happens in it. Also no I don’t want to write it <3

Still aching, still still

It’s almost dark, and the sun is already giving up from waiting too long for the moon to kiss him good night. Nearby, city lights are seen waking up slowly from their sleep. Then there’s a calm feeling that tiptoes into a homeless tiny boy’s heart when he looks up to swallow the stars as they begin their daily routine of sewing the skies with their warmth. There goes an echo after a single leaf fell down to the ground from which tree it belonged. Nearby, little flowers are singing silently to the song that echoes from the wind’s passing. But one thing that is almost known by the universe, is the soft heavy sigh that always come from a river between these little flowers and trees, between the people and city lights, and between the world and the stars.

It is uncertain when it started, but ever since then, the night is always achingly lonely just as the river is. But the river is still. And the river is quiet.

Sometimes. the river’s cries can be heard during rainstorms, it’s almost not there, but it is, as the river never really wants anyone to know about its nightmares. Sometimes, the river hums a tune to which leaves from the world above escape to and lead them to places unknown. Sometimes, the river dance when people encourage it to, their skin loving the river’s every rhythmic wavy touch, and the river swallows all the attention as it never really want to feel sad all the time. But sometimes, when everything is still, the river is still, and the river is quiet, and the river is quietly sobbing.

It is still uncertain, but the universe knows it eminently, that the river is aching, still aching, and that the river is still, still still.

(eusie.)

dear winter

dear winter,

just this time, will you please stop making snowflakes? i sneeze a little too often than before. do not attempt to dance outside my windows, i will never come out and watch you. please be gone as soon as possible, i can never get pass through your time.

just this time, i want you to not kill me again because every year when you are here, you kiss me with your snowflakes and i feel bliss even if i know you’re also kissing someone else. you whisper sweet nothings against my windows and every morning i wake up and see them as lyrics of a daylight lullaby; i smile even if i know in the evening, you’ll still give me nightmares. you control me and poison me to just give my every minute to you when you are here.

just this time, please stop… because just when everything comes to the most freezing moments of mine, you leave and i die; i don’t want that to happen again.

so please, just this time…

just this time… i want you to go away.

i am restraining myself on missing you as i run out of breathe each day. come back when i am when i want to feel frozen.

(eusie.)

i exist

you ask me if i’m fine. i say i’m fine. you look at me with one eyebrow raised, but you didn’t do anything after that. all these nights when you feel like shit, i swear i can feel your soul tearing apart with just one look at you. and you give your heart out as if you’re making love to me. but i know it’s only your sadness flowing out. and it’s not about the fact that you’re actually falling for me, or that you actually like talking to me. i ask myself what did i ever do wrong to be treated and feel this way. i ask myself what would i give for you to at least show that you care even for a damn minute, or a damn second. i just want you to know, i really need you to know... i exist; this heart inside of mine is beating. and it used to scream your name, but now it only stutters out each letter with so much pain as if with every one, one of my heartstrings break. i exist; the love i feel for you is real and it’s not made up. i exist; yes, you acknowledge that. but not entirely, only when you need someone when the one you actually need doesn’t want you. and yeah, i only exist during those times. am i fine? no, i’m not. but you wouldn’t know, because you wouldn’t care. i exist; i am human, and i have feelings. don’t break these pieces of my heart and shutter them more than they already are. i exist; can’t you see? (eusie.)

hello. there is nothing to see here but hand-me-down treasures and half-assed writings

B.raV.O.

Dear (b    n),

You’re: another shade of perfect that won’t match with my skin; a walking perfect disaster (a soft, soft sin).

You’re: a little too late — but still a wonderful feel — of autumn bliss; another fairytale worth a poisoned apple kiss.

You’re: pale, yet rosy and gray; midnight rumblings of ‘stay stay stay.’

You’re: a loss of breath; a wrong kind of fret.

You’re: my wrong-timing, my would-have, my what-if; my probably, my maybe.

Yours,

(eusie.)