Kampot Season

 Kampot Season


Hey you,

You look like you could cure me of all my summer aches.

You have the resemblance of a man I pictured holding my hand.

You,

Are someone who could stop me from going to the site where all dignity burn away like bonfire during summer day.


Hey you,

You drove past me, sundown rush hour.

I remember you were someone who had me wishing you were someone queer like me.


Could’ve just told me your uninterested in dating same gender and I could’ve gone on as I was.

I could’ve hurt less

It doesn’t seem just and it is so wrong.


I have some possessions of mine in my phone that they’d judge the structure of my bones and soul if they saw.

Who wants to be with with me anyway? 

Just like every other things, I can’t find gratitude in.

Who wants to hold my hands anyway?

They all think gratification is all I seek.

Who wants to go out to dinner with me anyway?

If they knew I only sit and mellow when alcohol take power.

But, You!

You look like you could tolerate me enough to wear rose colored glasses with me.

And we’ll pretend burning flames are just some sort of warped illusion.


In this little big town, 

I do not want the “saw you years after.”

Fuck it if I can’t even get to feel your skin.

I’ll just sink in the Blue Nile like a forgotten Egyptian.

I’ll build a Babylonian Garden by the shore of my hometown river in my head and a cobblestone shrine to worship, so I can learn to die alone and reach Neverland all on my own.


People like me finds it hard to see my own grey hair

So I tried to find all the reasons in my world to be with you.


Could’ve told me I’m too sick in the head to be with, I would’ve pulled back, I would’ve looked away, I could’ve gone on as I was


But you did experiment with me alive and left this corpse to rot, post mortem.



Hey you,

I’ll learn to get over you all of my life.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

borderline - the diary

Image
Aug 1, 2022 11:10 p.m. There are things that i've said or written down that i don't really mean it. because, i always sit in front of my bedroom window, staring at the afterglow, reminiscing about the person i thought was the 1, the time when i should have said it, the time i should have to go the riverside or the time i went out alone for burger and fries. these are, most of the time, the reasons why. Their notion,  i wouldn't last a minute, but i'm still here full-fucking-time. bares it all with my lower limb, body and soul. Deep down we know they wouldn't last a minute, dear. You could either choose to free roll down the steep hill or get the fuck up and walk. I have lasted years. Aug 26, 2022 9:24 p.m. i'm waking up every day trying to tell myself that whatever I'm doing isn't a compensation to the fact that i'm a highschool dropout. an endless reassurance. i still find myself stuck in between this tug o' war. at this point, i don't even ...
Read more

Do What U Want with Me

Image
I'm a High School dropout. I've spent six years in the primary and almost two years in high school I was that kid with good grades  I was praised around the school I was that kid, the one who dated at a very young age      although i was so young then, i wouldn't really call it an actual relationship     everything seemed blurry now I was that one kid that brought good grades home, until my household gifted me  "you're never good enough", "you never reach our satisfaction." The infinitely shifted goals, the abnormal standards, the perfection I have experienced mental illness when i was just 12 I didn't know I was bearing with one until i was 16 I, even, was too afraid to even admit that I was mentally ill It played the big parts in every ruin I've made throughout my life I have spent my entire childhood trying to fulfill satisfactions I used to believe that      a good boy must listen and embody others opinions       ...
Read more