Cigarette

Smell of cigarette on the street

I can’t smell anything but you

You, who never smoked in front of me

No clue why cigarette reminds me

of your touch

of your smell

how I felt being close to you

how I felt being held by you

I can’t get you out of my head

because of this damn cigarette

Too good to let go

Too bad for me to feel you without you

All the sensation faded after a while

like a cigarette

Smell of cigarette got all over my favorite shirts

like you

The Saddest Fantasy

To write is to trace what I witnessed inside and outside of my world

Let the cruel world be exposed with graceful words.

Let my broken memories shine with hopeful words.

Fantasized ugly portrait

Fetishized hurtful truth

Poetry is the saddest fantasy out of the reality

Soft Morning After All

Cold wind coming through the window is her alarm clock, told her it’s morning again and that she wasn’t his answer after the night, after all. Wind blew her dull pain beneath the deep ocean of her heart. She felt the pain for the first time in a long time. It ached like when she scratched a scab. Then, the wind touched her cheeks, felt like a soft kiss. It made her realize there is no such a thing as right one. If she ever call someone the one, it would be someone who gives her soft kisses in the morning after the long nights. The soft wind in the morning has awoken her heart and brought a new light into her deep ocean blue. It’s a soft morning, after all.