I met him when he was broken.
His heart was knitted together with strings so fragile.
But he lived as though he had no burden on his shoulders.
He knew death like he knew love.
They were his companions.
I think that's what I love about him.
And what more?
His quietness breached my silence.
His discerning look left me mesmerized.
His touch killed me.
His lips burned me.
He made love to me like he wanted to devour my being.
He loved me in the most brutal way.
But when I had to leave, he looked at me in quiet desperation.
He doesn't understand that it is not I who can fill the void in his soul.
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 12:31 AM UTC
He walked in,
In random strides.
Perplexed!
Not knowing that I...
In quiet desperation,
Wanted him.
-Doey
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 1:24 AM UTC
I'm a realist.
He's a dreamer.
He wants to run away.
I'd say okay.
I'd have to earn first.
He will be okay.
I'm an abuser.
He's a lover.
He wants to make love.
I'd say alright.
But first, I'd chide him.
He will be alright.
I'm a recluse.
He's a free spirit.
He's everything I am not.
I am everything he's not.
<He doesn't look a thing like Jesus..." Music plays in the background>
That's all.
I just love him.
- Doey
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 12:22 PM UTC
He changed.
She changed.
They waged a war.
Not knowing that hearts were breaking in between them.
-Doey
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC
Simple soliloquies.
Mostly misunderstood.
To some, inspiration.
To many, mental illness.
-Doey
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
2015, Please be kind.
No heartaches this year.
I am spent.
2015, Please be nice.
No heartbreaks this year.
I am not strong enough.
2015, Please let me be.
-Doey
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 12:27 AM UTC
1. We are critical.
We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.
2. We are never satisfied.
We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.
3. We never forget.
We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.
4. We are fickle.
Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.
5. We are exposed.
We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.
6. We are vulnerable.
We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.
7. We will never stop.
We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.
We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
We were never,
Never ever meant to be.
You were not suppose to see me.
Or watch me walk past.
We were never,
Never ever meant to be.
I could never remember you,
Nor reminisce your face.
I lived in the past.
And you, in the future.
But our love: lives in the present.
Never absent.
We were never,
Never ever meant to be.
The slightest touch.
The silliest laugh.
We were never,
Never ever meant to be.
Compatible without reasoning.
While romanticizing our very existence.
I was your companion,
When you sought solidarity.
But our love, irrevocable.
Never replaceable.
We were never,
Never ever meant to be.
Why did you have to fall,
Fall in love with me?
And why did I take the leap?
Our courage.
Your hope.
My faith.
As our souls collide.
We transcend.
Our love forlorn.
-Doey
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 6:27 AM UTC
Dear my Heart,
What have you done to me?
Can't you just let me be?
Yes, my Heart,
Love is-for-Idiots.
How dreary this feeling!
Butterflies in my tummy.
It is sickening.
Dear my Heart,
How could you do this to me?
I am not strong; can't you see?
Yes, my Heart,
I am-the moron-in Love.
Oh, how I fell!
Falling flat on my face.
And yes, it hurts like hell!
Dear my Heart,
I loved too much.
But someone forgot-to-love me back.
~Doey
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 4:29 AM UTC
The door was locked,
From the inside.
No one's opening the door.
(Spare key in my bag)
Standing there,
Nothing unusual.
The dishes have been done.
House.
Dusted, mopped, vacuumed.
(Where is she?)
Her bedroom door is open.
I step in,
Her LBD laid on the bed.
Her red shoes on the floor.
Her journal on the night stand.
(Yes, her journal)
"Page 30. Date: 30/11/13"
(It's today!)
"I am sorry, none of this is your fault.
I wish I could make you understand.
I love you, mom."
I start panicking.
(Where the hell is she?)
"I wish he figured it out."
I hear the water running in the bathroom.
The thoughts running through my head.
And I went in.
There she is.
In the tub.
The water blood red.
She looked so pale.
But still beautiful.
She looked blank.
Yet so peaceful.
Why did she do this?
I'm going into shock.
(Call the police, no, an ambulance)
beep beep beep
dial tone
"This is ***, what's your emergency?"
"I need an ambulance."
"What's your address ma'am?"
mumbles address
"Okay ma'am, we're sending an ambulance right away."
"Tell me, ma'am, what happened?"
"I-I-I t-th-think I killed myself."
-Doey
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 4:26 AM UTC