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parisdimi · 14 days

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i hope that i learn to love someone more than i love you.

when wedding bells chime and wisteria flowers bloom, beneath a warm sky painted with strokes of vibrant cerulean blue, i pray that i don’t miss you.

it’s a silent wish, one whispered into the void, borne from the depths of my soul and whispered into the emptiest of nights.

i pray that when the day arrives, when i stand at the threshold of matrimony, i will not be haunted by the ghost of what once was.

not once will i think of you—i will not miss the intricacies of your being, nor will they slip through the cracks of memory. i will not think of the way your eyes crinkle at the corners when you smile, the way your pearly whites show with each one. not the way hands feel beneath my own, the skin raised slightly around the tattoo on your ring finger.

i was meant to cover it with a band of my own.

not once will i wonder what our cabinets would look like, the shelves lined with carefully constructed containers—ones you were always so meticulous about. perhaps nestled among them would be a box of matcha tea, your favorite, waiting to be brewed into steaming cups of comfort on lazy sunday mornings. we’d have them with hotteok, the sweet pancakes you promised you’d make for me.

i hope that these feelings wash away with the waters of time. when the day comes where i can look at another without searching for your gaze in the depths of theirs,

i pray that i never once look back ; — yshro.

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parisdimi · 2 months

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in the withering hands of my wavering existence, you appear—a love that surpasses all earthly bounds.

my dearest, you are more than human; you are the embodiment of all that is, woven by the threads of perfection.

like a star that steals every longing breath and captivates every aching soul, you draw me into your orbit.

the mere thought of you drags me to the depths of longing, a yearning that resonates within the darkest parts of my being.

—yshro.

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parisdimi · 2 months

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i don't know what to do without you. you are my salvation in this world.

—yshro.

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parisdimi · 2 months

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i think i saw you in a dream,

your warm laughter, your stupid remarks, your pretty eyes, your round cheeks.

i dreamt that i held your hand. it was so simple—your fingers clasped in mine.

selfishly, i wanted that night to last forever.

but i’m awake and you’re long gone; —yshro.

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parisdimi · 2 months

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i genuinely believed that you would stay in my life forever.

#poetry #poetsandwriters #writers and poets #poets on tumblr #poetscommunity #prose poetry #prose writing #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #thoughts #spilled feelings #yshro #i miss you #i don’t know how to be okay without you

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parisdimi · 3 months

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when words come, i know little of how to express them without running on tangents—

my affection for you becomes affection for all that you say, for all that you embody, for all that you are.

you are the air that i breathe and the words that i speak. your laughter is the sweetest sound—my guiding light, the symphony of my life.

you are the very center of my world. the core to my being. the sun that i orbit.

you are my everything, but am i yours?

— longing; yshro.

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parisdimi · 3 months

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my pomegranates had grown rotten, tucked away in the forgotten corners of refrigerator drawers.

despite its blackening peel, it was handled with gentle hands—carefully pulled apart and checked for rich, red berries amongst withered browns.

i couldn’t help but wonder if, after months of wasting away in man-made confines, the pomegranates found those hands to be warm.

and i couldn’t but wonder if, in some world, those hands would reach out for me too—if they would pull apart my worn peels and promise me that there was still good left in me, even when if i was practically waste.

“you’re not rotten,” they’d say. “not all the way. not to the core.”

— yshro.

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parisdimi · 4 months

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my beloved moon,

in the quiet solitude of the night, i pour my heart out to you—my confessions whispered into the abyss and carried on the wings of lunar light. your silent presence listens, guiding my tides at each strike of twilight.

my everlasting muse,

you are the heart of my every poem, my every prose, my every longing melody. how easily you’ve captivated my heart, and how willingly i play my part, surrendering to this one-sided lie.

you, my beloved moon, are the most beautiful thing known to man,

and i am but a passerby.

— yshro.

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parisdimi · 4 months

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forever?

people used to tell me that it was unrealistic to dream of forever—like all things that come and go, love would too.

nothing was everlasting,

nothing was unconditional.

i wish i could show them you as a rebuttal.

my forever. — yshro.

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parisdimi · 4 months

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my beloved, i am a silent witness to my own undoing, sitting idly while the world passes over. again, night falls. again, day comes. again, night falls.

there was a time where i could wrap you in words, when they would flow like honey rolling off tender tongues. i can’t seem to understand why, today, those words still in my throat like a pea-sized lump—one that doesn’t move when i swallow, nor voice when i speak.

perhaps i am the testament to my own shortcomings.

the silence is deafening, pulling apart the memories woven between us like strings of cloth. the strands sprawl out between my fingertips and i watch as they slip past. i don’t try to grab them—i wonder if i can—i don’t. again.

again, i am the coward. again, i am the jester with the painted visage, the puppeteer of my own cruel paradigm.

i love you, my dearest, so much that i wonder if i can pray to meet you in the afterlife. would that be alright? would you forgive me then?

until the day comes, i fear i will remain a coward who loves you silently. please don’t hate my painted face.

my sweet muse.

my serenity.

i am a coward but i am yours. —yshro.

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parisdimi · 5 months

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there are so many things that have become synonymous with you.

matcha tea, waves on the shore, prose poetry, pickled fruits, rainy days, totoro on nights with thunderstorms, the sky in guam.

i loved you to the point of remembrance and i’m not sure how to forget.

yet again, i find every thought of mine running back to you.

do you still wear rubber gloves to take out avocado pits? when you’re sad, do you still crave your plain salads? have you added color to your closet the way you said you wanted to? are your leather jackets growing worn from overuse or have you tucked them away? have you grown out of these things? have you grown out of me?

i wonder if you remember me the way i remember you.

i wonder if you think of me as frequently as i long for you. — yshro.

#poetry #poetsandwriters #writers and poets #my poem #poets on tumblr #poetscommunity #prose poetry #prose writing #sad poetry #poetic prose #poems and quotes #writers on tumblr #spilled poetry #spilled thoughts #spilled ink #yshro #letters to the moon and her

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parisdimi · 5 months

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i think the only way to stop missing you is to start hating you. so, i’ll tell myself that i hate you. i despise you.

and when i’m alone, picking the petals of the peonies we dreamt of planting, i’ll linger at the last two left over.

for the first, i’ll whisper, “he loves me not,” and for the second, i’ll beg, “he loves me.”

i think i’ll love you forever. — yshro.

#poetry #poetsandwriters #writers and poets #poets on tumblr #my poem #poetscommunity #prose poetry #prose writing #sad poetry #poems and quotes #original poem #yshro #spilled poetry #spilled ink #koa

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parisdimi · 5 months

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despite how we fought, despite how we argued—hushed whispers of aching hurt between proses and poetry, promises of an empty, endless love—i wished so desperately for your stay.

there was a part of my soul that longed for yours, weeping and wallowing in what could have been.

i had poured a part of my heart into your hands, and lord, i knew that it held the better half of my being. (because i loved you.)

and i thought that, eventually, you would come pushing your way back into my life like an unrelenting plague. (because you loved me too.)

i would have welcomed you with open arms, willingly whisked away by the poison of your pointless words—promise me again,

promise me you’d stay.

letters to the moon (and her.) — yshro.

#yshro #poetry #poetsandwriters #writers and poets #poets on tumblr #poetscommunity #prose poetry #prose writing #sad poetry #spilled poetry #spilled ink #letters to the moon and her #my poem #original poem #poetic prose

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parisdimi · 5 months

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i hope that, on mornings when you believe the sun to be too bright, it kisses the pigment beneath your eyes in ways i only wish i could.

—yshro.

#poetry #poetsandwriters #my poem #prose writing #spilled thoughts #i miss you #prose #prose poetry #sad poetry #spilled ink #writers and poets #poetscommunity #yshro

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parisdimi · 5 months

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i miss you.

i miss you so much that my throat feels like it’s constricting when i think of you—so much that i find myself dreaming of you.

not the metaphorical kind, nor the kind that comes coherently. i dream of you when i sleep, i dream that you’re waiting for me by the shoreline with arms wide open. i dream of you you when i’m awake, i dream that you’re still holding me close when i’m alone.

i dream of the time when i could look to you at every turn of the ticking clock, endless hours slipping through our grasps like grains of sand in an hourglass. i didn’t know then that it could end.

i dream of you when i stop by the flower shop, imagining sending you painted pictures of their blooming buds. i dream of telling you about the new friend i made, about the new plant that sprouted, about how life has slowly changed. i dream of your endless assurance, promising that you’ll always stay.

i dream of you so often that i almost believe it’s reality. truth be told, i don’t know if that’s romantic or pathetic. that line had blurred so long ago, whether it be through forcefully smudged ink or unrelenting waves of tears.

i dream out time hasn’t run out. maybe the somber truth is that you will always be my eden, my abode—my sweet solidarity. maybe i’ll always miss you.

my dream. — yshro.

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parisdimi · 5 months

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i don’t know, really. i’m not sure i know much of anything at all.

#poetry #rambles #shitpost

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parisdimi · 5 months

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at least we’re looking at the same sky.

today marks the 40 days of repeating the same string of syllables, of feeding the same phrase into my mind until it becomes an indistinguishable reality—some hopeless, finite conclusion. it tastes bitter on my tongue, like an unwelcome medicine that sickens my stomach.

how could i be content with wiping away every second we spent together? 546 days to count. endless undocumented before then. had i known, i would have engraved each minute into stone.

again, i tried to find solace in the sky. there’s nothing there—nothing more than the emptiness of a polluted night staring down at me, spitefully so.

at most, we’re looking at the same sky. — yshro.

#yshro #spilled poetry #poetry #writers and poets #original poem #prose poetry #sad prose #sad poetry #i love you #love poem #writers on tumblr #poems and quotes #prose writing #prose #i don’t know how to be okay without you

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