Never land(poetry)

I thought I’m

done loving

lost boys

until you sneaked

into my window

that night,

asking for my hand.     

          But I know boys like you

so well,

I’ve fallen for

the same pair

of lies

before.     

       You’d sprinkle

some sparkly,

glittery duston meto make me fly

only to leave me

next morning,

stranded

between dreams

and reality.          

      Didn’t I tell you?

My name’s never Wendy

__________________

Tatto (poetry)

You ask me

to wear my scars

like my fine lover’s name

a tattoo on my pulse

but don’t you

oh don’t you know

he owns the knife

a pen to write

death on my

corrupted soul       

      Don’t you

oh don’t you know

not all scars

are meant

to be worn

like crowns 👑

Lost city(poetry)

I am still

lost in the

last ruins of

this version you built.

I am still

walking around,

wandering,

with no sense of

direction at all.

And the rain

pours damn hard

in that corner

where we first met,

but

in the comfort of

crumbling remains, 

 I stayed,   

   lying there like a

crumpled piece of paper

where you once wrote your

lines of poetry on.

I still got them,

tucked into my pockets

like fading rays of sunshines

that cannot stand against

darker skies. 

    I stayed,

not waiting for you to

come back and

rebuild my walls,

but wishing you never left

in the first place.     

           I stayed,

asking myself,

thinking over

and over again,

Why?

Why am I the one left

roaming around the grey

when you were the one

haunting me?     

    Why am I the ghost

that is still pinned down

in this map you made up?        

            In the comfort of

crumbling remains,

I stayed.

Maybe because I really

have no sense of direction at all

And you were the city

I’m stuck in………

Rain drops (obsession)

my mind is corrupted so keep those

smiles of yours

to only yourself otherwise,

i’ll want even more

my mind is plagued

so never let these hands of mine

touch yours once again otherwise,

i wouldn’t be able to draw the line

••••

you have become my fixation…

my obsession…

my infatuation…

and everything else

that my mind can think of

so please

forget about me

and the person i’ve become

leave me be

___________________

scathing saturn rings (poetry)

Caring scathing saturn rings when you first met me in irem’s garden,i know you had your thoughts about me but they were left unspoken,and if all of heaven knew disappointment, it was in that momentand i don’t know what your forbidding voice did that it got me hoping, it got me hoping,to meet your dragons in Neverland one day,to find a love that’s neurotic in some way,to leave everything and make you my first conquest

☾︎ i was wearing scathing Saturn rings when you first met me at the daria,the cerulean seems to be a wicked contrast to your fire,and the daylight barely bothers you, it’s like it’s alright to be the last star you knew,and i’ve not met someone quite like you.

there was something about the scar on your hand, that got me hoping,and i wish you’d understand,to let me,meet your dragons in neverland one day,find a love that’s neurotic in some way,and to leave irem’s garden behind and whisper a wish to the last star of the night.a…

▶ windermere library (poetry)

 mypoemattice very story narrated in it's archaic is from a worn out book-shelf of a rustic, old and vintage library. this is the place where my mind keeps all of it's fantasies from centuries through out time;
of an exiled child, the tragedy of losing layla, the yearning for being loved by celestia, meeting someone at irem's garden for the first and last time, and they leave without a goodbye, of living in a kingdom that threatens your existence, living in a society where handsome boys are praised for their vanity, where your heart breaks but you can't say it out loud, where the world ends at moonrise, and of crumpled letters written in smeared ink for people you love, of climbing blue mountains, of following a trail of tragic grief and plucking white daises.8this book is simply me stepping into
 ❝windermere library❞ in my mind and reading all these stories, the fragments left from generations long gone, to you, in a dim-lit corner by the window sill.
I truly hope your  stay here
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