[ 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—