earnestly yours, Kim

| my poetry of all things beyond happiness and the opposite of it |

she walked like a pretty vase

made of porcelain and gold

without the beauty inside

of petals and a rose.

Try as you will… — Imperfect Poet

Try as hard as you will, in time you must accept that you cannot, by yourself, change the way of this world or the course of the wind.

via Try as you will… — Imperfect Poet

bed sheets


She only loved her sheets

when they were shared with him

and the warmth from his body

existed on them;

& while the moon would rise,

and the sun would set,

she fell in love with him

all over again.



the memory of us

slowly fades

and increasingly ages

once the sun meets the moon…


the end

pictures of us

and letters to each other

now only exist

as proof of a tragic

and beautiful




why do we let ourselves

hang on to the beauty of the rose

yet are bleeding from its thorn


sealed lips

her heart pounds in her chest

muffling the cries of heartache

and whispers of hope, feeling safe and secure

from the warmth of his eyes and the words that tumble so gently

down the pout of his lips.

yet hers shut tight,

lips glued with the lie

that’ll save her from falling,

and suppressed is the truth kept within

from her own sealed lips.



to the one that got away 

she remembered how the tips of his fingers

would fiddle with the crest of her hand, and the nook of her knuckles,

and in a matter of seconds, slipped into the spaces between hers…


in a matter of days, between the same fingers that held his,

not only was it his hands, his tips or his knuckles,

but him as a whole, slipped away from her reach,

and no matter how much she grasped him in thin air, in far distance,

she never got him. he never came back. he was the one that simply

got away.



pictures of you

memory and in paper

as lovers more and less

are all torn up into scattered pieces of what was once

complete as a whole, and complete in the heart.

But now all you’ve become to me, in thoughts and in words,

in sight and in sound, and everything that was once familiar– is now

a stranger.


at the wrong time

to the one i met at the very wrong time.

we created memories

that never happened

and had plans

we never spoke of,

and jokes that were never made

and kisses that were never given.

i loved him, and he really loved me,

but that only existed in a dream

because even if the universe took us in its hands,

time took us apart,

and ripped both of our hearts

selfishly and unknowingly.