he told me i shined like a diamond

that my soul was crystal clear

flawless

i was his gem

they say very few things can cut diamonds

that they're as tough as they come

diamonds don't cry

he told me i shined like a diamond

while he simultaneously cut me down

and dirtied my lustre

i was his gem

the only bad thing about sleeping

is when you dream so hard

so vividly

it's a nightmare waking up

when the holds are so tight

and the feelings so real

when you're in another world

and then you wake up

lost in the sheets

with the fading memories

of a dream past

like a rainstorm in summer,

the water mixes with the sweat

and washes it away,

leaving you cleaner than before,

cooler,

better than a breeze

better than AC

after a summer rainstorm

you're refreshed

that's what you are:

you are the rainstorm

in the summer of my life

the welcomed blast

of refreshment

even if it lasts for just a second

that fleeting feeling

will make a mark deeper than you know

that fleeting feeling

is all i'll need

in case of a drought

like a rainstorm in summer,

you mix with my sweat

and leave me better than before.

i spend most of my time rationalizing,

talking myself out of feelings,

dreams, hopes, aspirations.

if something goes wrong

and i can't explain it,

i give it space, a meaning,

i give it a reason to happen.

i can't believe that shit just happens,

that people can fuck you over for no reason

i try to find the deeper meaning,

the reason why i opened myself up

to that failure.

in doing so, i find the good - 

the relationships that never would've formed,

the times i never would've had

and i try to think that makes it okay.

but the thing about rationalizing is that

it obviously isn't okay

otherwise i would've just let it be.

i can't keep thinking it's my fault

or theirs

sometimes two people come together

and you're only meant to have one night, one week, one year

before you have none of them at all

it all goes back to the grand scheme

back to how we run on perpendicular planes

some people come in and out of our lives like night and day

but others don't

you get a finite amount of time with them

and that's it

you might see them again, but it's not the same

you're not the same and neither are they

the contact you had changed you both

and going back isn't an option

so what you're left with are the good memories

from the past

trying to reconnect never works, not really

it's not your fault

or mine

a hot breeze envelopes me

sweltering, i'm caged in

binding, it takes my breath away

my entire body is sweating

feeling the heat

a hot breeze is relaxing for a second

as it ruffles your hair

and gives the false idea

that it will cool you,

relieve you

a hot breeze isn't a breeze at all

just displaced hot air

finding its rightful place

next to you

suffocating

bruises aren't ugly. they're not defects.

bruises are beautiful. they show a life lived,

a night loved.

my bruises are reminders, short-lived memories that fade and disappear.

my bruises are temporary pieces of art

that depicts a story of two people coming together

just once.

bruises cover my legs, my body, sometimes

and i'm proud of them.

i notice them when i glimpse at a mirror.

bruises fade, the temporary memory,

physical evidence fades - but the non-tangible stays behind.

i wear my bruises like badges of honor.