It is better to break
your own heart
before anyone
could
.
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 3:24 AM UTC
She was the sun
She was the rain
She could always,
Always take away the pain
She was more than just
Skin and bones
She could make hell
Feel like home
She dances to the beat
Of her own drum
She was like a shot
Of my grandfather’s finest ***
She was the light of my days
The stars of my nights
The fire of my *****
And the love of my life
She looked like art
And her eyes were brown
I’ve stared to similar ones
But only hers kept me down
She makes me feel alright
I don’t know
She makes everything alright
Oh god, I think she’s an angel
She keeps me up all night
I’ve yet to kiss her lips
But I bet nothing tastes like her
I bet the cola got nothing on her
I promise
I won’t do her any hurt
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 4:27 AM UTC
There she was,
looking like an angel as ever
with her long flowy dress
she was singing the groom's favorite song.
Everyone was dancing on the dance floor
with the gorgeous bride
while me and the groom stayed on the side
to watch her.
"Man, she is really something, huh?"
I asked the groom.
"Yeah, she is."
He answered as I saw his eyes light up,
then turn down.
"I wish I married her."
The bride ran to us as she tip-toed in her heels,
holding her long gown,
and took the groom's hand.
The song was finished
but the angel
in the long flowy red dress
was still on stage,
waving at me as she smiled.
I smiled back,
And under my breath I said,
"I wish I did too."
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 2:46 AM UTC
*I could've been your baby girl
And I know
It's my fault*
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 5:05 AM UTC
In this world,
And I say "this world"
Because there might be another
Where you don't get a coffee
In a warm lit cafe
Instead you drink something similar
That isn't called a coffee
In a place that doesn't even look like a cafe
In this world
We cannot just ride the same bus
With a person we've seen in a film
We cannot go to a place
And expect it will feel like home
We cannot do our rounds and shifts
And just let it be any thing
Other than mundane
We go on without having to clink our glasses
With the person we want to be there
We go on reading books alone
In a room full of voices of people
Without having one to ask you about the title
I go on waking up every morning
And not find your deep, baby blue eyes
Because in this world
We had to endure distances
In this world
We had to find comfort in isolation
In this world
We can never be together
But maybe in another we can
In another, we're much more of a free soul
Wise men did say
That there can be an infinity of worlds
Where the things that are not
Are is in another
We're not that in this world
But maybe in a different one
We are
Or maybe here
We can
Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC
You were a flame
suddenly lit in the midst of darkness.
You were bright and such easy to the eyes.
You weren't easy on the hands though,
but warm enough without fingers touching.
But as the wind blew,
you disappeared as suddenly as you flickered.
Every now and then, I spark a light on a candle
and blow it with my lips,
just to see how fast our love started
and then
ended.
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 4:53 AM UTC
I hope you wait for her in the hallway
That when the bell rang,
She'd walk out that room to see your face
Glowing under the generic, white fluorescent light
Ready to greet her a smile
Even though your eyes are tired from the last class
I hope she takes you out during your break
Walking around the campus,
Sitting on stairs, near pavements,
Eating delicious food on sticks,
That amidst the students on their busy routines,
She makes you feel waking up this morning was worth it
I hope you send her home to be safe
Especially when the sun had already set
Even if you're schedule is only half for the day
Even if you have to wake up at 5AM tomorrow
Just so you can ride that jeep, that train, that bus
And feel her head rest on your shoulders
I hope she makes you feel happy on a school night
That you feel at ease even if you have to finish a paper
That she never fails to cheer you up for an exam
And whenever you need someone to drive by with you,
She won't hesitate to come and stop typing for a while
Despite both of you have to be in class by 7 next morning
I hope you treat her a ride out of chivalry
Even if it was just six coins
Or one, because there wasn't enough in her purse
Or even if she's got enough but you do it anyway
Because the horns of the busy streets sounded like music
When she's sitting in front of you, or best, beside you
I hope the classes you've been with her were amazing
That when you look at that number on the door
You smile, even if that subject is something you despise
I hope your professors look at you with gratitude
And feel thankful because you have her to give that to you
When you were ready to give up, when you were so close to flunking
I hope the tables, the chairs, the floors, the walls
Reminds her how bittersweet college is
And how it must've felt quite boring without you
How the running before the bell rings
Is nothing compared to running into you
Or helping her get her books off the ground when it fell
I hope the floors and the grass you both walk on,
The library you both used to cram and laze around
Will overwhelm the deadlines you need to reach,
The lengthy commute you had to endure
And tells you a lesson about a thing or two
Not formed from equations and long written essays
I hope you both don't forget education is important
As important as living your lives,
As important as keeping that life alive
And I hope when you both get that diploma
You'll look back at each other and thank each other
That even if it didn't turned out like what those books say,
The halls could almost, at some point, feel like home
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 3:08 AM UTC
You made a nice, hot cup of coffee
Placed on the table for some time,
For it was still quite hot to drink
Or just quite hot for your liking
But you left it way too long,
So the sip had gone cold
You felt dismayed
But you knew why,
You knew it very well
I was your cup of cold coffee,
Enough to wake you up
But no longer warm
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 8:32 PM UTC
Roses are red
I think you're cute
This is a poem
Pizza
Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 10:57 PM UTC