everything love isn't.

i promise you
this won’t be about you
why should it be
     i've been waiting but
     you’re as fickle as the second 
hand on my clock.
i'm not writing about you.

you're dreaming too much
maybe you should stop clawing for a
future because
     there’s no “us” in “future.”

you and i, we’re not the same.
you walk the fine line between love and lust
i walk the tightrope.

i'm forgetting that day
you whispered wo ai ni
and made my blood cells
applaud for you
and the day you lit up that prison
academy with only your
voice. gorgeous voice.

forget it all, please.
too bad. move on.

remember when your troubles
found refuge in my ears?
glued them shut.
and how we used to write
pathetic little notes
     throwing them across class
     having a food fight
     with paper?
burned them up.
(yes, i’ve kept them)

now your luminance loses luster
now your warmth is afflicted with frost
but i am not bitten

all for you
      who’d do that anyway
so what if minutes became eternities
      when I was with you
if fire became inextinguishable
      in our hearts
so what
i'm not writing about –--