my obsession and more of [ Lang Leav ]

her artwork (books);

News;

"The Poetry of Lang Leav 2017 Wall Calendar" is available now! It is features with thirteen of her poems that have been selected from her best-selling books. 

There also will be a special edition of  [ The Universe of Us ] and it is includes the poem 'Stars in Love' written for Maine Mendoza and Alden Richards. Also, the book includes a special handwritten note by Lang Leav!

to check out more of Lang Leav's news, here; Lang Leav's website

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So, here the good news that I found at Lang Leav's twitter,

Lang Leav will come to Malaysia (weee)!

This is the Lang Leav's schedule at Malaysia, soon!

Unfortunately,
I couldn't go, since family had discuss and plan to go to KL in middle of december as holiday,
so of course they wouldn't let me go, sobsob 😭

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here, more of her beautiful artwork:

"

—

     K E Y S

But hearts don't have locks, she said.

Some do, he replied. 

There are people who give away the key to theirs for safekeeping. 

Others are mistrustful and give out several keys just in case. 

Then there are those who have misplaced them but never cared to look.

What about your heart, she asked.

He smiled.

Your words are the key to mine, he replied.

Never forget your words.

     R E M O R S E

You loved her and now you know what you've lost. Now your hands feel emptier than before you met her—your heart feels heavier. But you were young and you were careless. How were you to know the value of what you were given?

Yet you did know. At least a part of you did. In some strange, mysterious way, you knew there was something special about that girl. In her eyes, you caught a glimpse of your own destiny. You knew it was meant to travel with hers.

If only you could go back to that day; to the one where she stood before you, gentle and hopeful—waiting for you to make up your mind. When you thought to yourself that nothing had ever looked more beautiful.

That was the moment you should have told her what your heart was telling you. If you had allowed it, she could have been your whole world. All you had to do was open the door. All you had to say was, come in.

     C L O C K S

Here in time

            you are mine,

            I could not be

            more prouder.

I do not know

            why I love you so,

            the clock knows not

            its hour.

Yet it is clear

            to all that's here,

            that time told 

            by seeing.

Even though

            clocks do not know—

            it is the reason

            for their being.

     W I S H F U L   T H I N K I N G

You say that you are over me,

            my heart,

            it skips,

            it sinks.

I see you now with someone new,

            I stare,

            I stare,

            I blink.

Someday I'll be over you,

            I know,

            I know—

I think.

     W I S H I N G   S T A R S

I still search

            for you in crowds,

            in empty fields

            and soaring clouds.

In city lights

            and passing cars,

            on winding roads

            and wishing stars.

I wonder where

            you could be now,

            for years I've not said

            your name out loud.

And longer since

            I called you mine—

            time has passed

            for you and I.

But I have learnt

            to live without,

            I do not mind—

            I still love you anyhow.

     W A L L F L O W E R

Shrinking in a corner,

            pressed into the wall;

            do they know I'm present,

            am I here at all?

Is there a written rule book,

            that tells you how to be—

            all the right things to talk about—

            that everyone has but me?

Slowly I am withering—

            a flower deprived of sun;

            longing to belong to,

            somewhere or someone.

"

[ Lang Leav ]

question: One poet that inspire you the most?

as a lovers of poems, Lang Leav is one of my favourite poet!
So, I would like to include some of her beautiful artwork;


"



     H e r   W o r d s


Love a girl who writes
            and live her many lives;
            you have yet to find her,
            beneath her words of guise.

Kiss her blue-inked fingers,
            forgive the pens they marked.
            The stain of your lips upon her—
            the one she can't discard.

Forget her tattered memories,
            or the pages others took;
            you are her ever after—
            the hero of her book.


    
    A   P O S T C A R D


To the man I love, to my future.

The first time I felt your presence,I began joining the dots in the sky,
wondering when our stars would align.

I often think of where you are and if you're happy. Are you in love? I hope she is gentle. I know you and I are the same in that way—we bruise a little more easily the most. You see our souls were made in the same breath.

I know I'm running late—I'm sorry. Things haven't worked out the way I planned. But believe me when I tell you I am on my way. 

Until then, think of me, dream of me and I will do the same. One day I will learn your name, and I will write it somewhere in this page. And we will realise that we have known each other all along. 



     P R O C E S S I O N


He used to ask me all the time if I was okay. As though he never knew for sure. He would ask me when he was tired of frustrated or when he felt helpless. He would ask me when he was afraid. 

He asked me the same question, long after we stopped being lovers—when we became something less yet somehow more.  Are you okay? He would whisper on the phone late at night, when she was asleep or had gone to her mother's for the weekend.  Are you okay?

He hasn't asked me in years, but I know he still thinks it. I know the question still reverberates in his mind like a broken record and he will keep looking for answers long after there is nothing left to appease him. 

It was always the same question, over and over again. Like the start of a procession. And it took me years to recognise the unsaid words that marched silently behind.

Are you okay; because I love you.
Are you okay; because I need you.
Are you okay; because I don't know how to live without you.



     T H E   G I R L   S H E   W A S


She doesn't feel like herself. Not anymore. She was different once.

Now she is like watered down version, pale and thin. She slips through the cracks, unnoticed. She fades into the background, afraid of saying wrong thing. She grows sharp edges and won't let anyone get close to her.

She doesn't know how she came to be like this, how she ended up here. She only remembers the way she used to be—wild and reckless. Bold and unapologetic.

"

some, just some of it—