hello and goodbye, little flower
the wallops of the sun and moon
the taste of sweet and sour,
why are you fading so soon?
energy never lies
each day, each petal dies
roots that are used to be cherished
zest is slowly beginning to perish
disappearing charisma burst
embosomed by a gloomier thirst
spirals of flourishing passion
stem's propped to percussion
restoring the seeds of fertility
is the perfect tone of sanity
but the sudden gush of calamities
hindered the ray of prosperity
tailored lullabies,
hoping for rain or a battle cry
here's the dream's doom,
for a flower that no longer blooms
the feeling becomes seasonal
a little bit under the weather,
remember the plant that used to grow?
now's colorless and withered
Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 8:32 AM UTC
Aren't you getting drowsy?
From that rubber feeling being smudged inside
With the white lies, you're trying to hide
And answers that you cannot find
Human Pacifier
You feed them hope, you feed them glory
You feed them joy, even their exigency
You give your lasts and your entirety
Did they do the same?
Of course, they detect
That you're holding unto a Placebo Effect
Knows you're stoic and benevolent
So they keep sending amenable threats
Someday, it will trigger you
Your aspired esteem and prisoned wounds
Where you realize you need to fulfill "you",
Erase the 'shoulds' and do 'coulds'
It's not your fault being so tolerant
It's meant to happen though it's not meant to stay
It's not your duty to be the second hand
Just to be used and strayed
Recognize your worth
You must know when to leave the table
When you feel like being disabled,
Guard your heart and guard your castle
Because prevention is better than cure
Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 7:16 AM UTC
isn't it bittersweet?
how our parallels meet so sweet
the way we smile, when we show our teeth
it's not so tiring
never jaded by the repetitive cycle
gears are ready to the arriving battles
weapons are edgy, prepared to rumble
non-exhausting
this proximity ain't absolute without warmth
because heat is the firing art
a touch of spice is the endearing part
it's not so tiring
every second, every minute
there comes a time when we thought about quitting
but we are each other's motivation
then we kept going and said,
"it's not exhausting"
everything seems so nice
like a perfect house of cards
but it's starting to fall apart
and it slowly breaks my heart
confuse, refuse
radiant, abuse
mistaken, rebuke
forgiveness, I choose
first, I fiddled the turmoil to see what was wrong
then I asked fervent questions to see what was wrong
third, I sought help above the clouds then hummed my song
but nothing seems so wrong, what happened?
I tried bringing stains to the discoloration
I tried serving flavor to the tasteless correlation
I tried giving hints to the dying consideration
and see if there's a resurrection to our disconnection
it's proof that too much sugar
can over sweetened you
and too much spice
can truly burn you
yes, I got tired
and I supposed you did, too
the ingredients of our love
are not as stable as it used to
we may have been unbalanced
or fell out of the missing pieces
we shouldn't forget the essence
of how we both started
it was tiring yet exhausting,
how miraculous it is that we didn't die
if 'nice' is what we yearn,
I think we should give it another try
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 5:01 AM UTC
He loves me, he loves me not
A constant phase and a common thought
Spins like a halo occasionally
And it summons me unforgivingly
He loves me, he loves me not
Don’t lose hope, don’t get caught
Losing florets over the flower shop
So obsessed, I couldn’t stop
For I keep plummeting petals
Hands are excessive pedals
He loves me, he loves me not
My feeling’s loaded, my wisdom’s locked
Aid my soul inside the casket,
over the garden,
My harvested heart bleeds red,
Red as garnet
He loves me, he loves me not
Still waiting for a twist to the plot
Maybe tomorrow or maybe not
I can’t remain forever-aiming and then rot
He loves me, he loves me not
It’s getting cold and it gets hot
I can volunteer to squeeze myself until death
Because I’m running out of guesses
He loves me, he loves me not
A rising action and a falling one
What’s done with the rises,
when I am the fallen one?
I faded once but I’m alright
What a fool, to have another try
Here’s to the planets that can be worthwhile
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 11:27 PM UTC
the world is full of missing parts,
then so am i
the malfunction of my image can bloom
the good deeds may glitch and die
no broken hearts could open gates for others
only throbbing fissures are to be seen
secret doors and damaged keys
rotten sadistic teen
yet you came
and i've never seen a demon so sweet to me, how?
smooth puffs ****** into my head
making me crazy and sane,
trust ain't easy to gain,
but i'm coaxed by your vows
i liked myself before
then i like my halo better now
the idea of angel wings and a fiend's ***** is not a good blend
but a compatible path was created
with an adequate commitment to try
he said he wants to love the opposite
if that's the deal,
then so am i
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
sounds can testify the details of a picture
whilst unholy orbs can earwitness the vowels and consonants
beneath the smoke is an ibidem treasure
nothing but the end of the line of the coincidence
there's something about the heat,
the taste,
the texture,
and the rhythm,
that puts each creature in a strange addiction
it draws me in a helix composition
or a different compensation
and most of all,
i'm bottled up in a wild satisfaction
my mundane hours would feel extra deserted
just like my camel stick when it's unkindled
i might hate seeing―experiencing typical things
but never tired of this kind of habit that seems brittle
or a sense of rage, not even a little
because of every sip,
my piercing thoughts became a whistle
as soon as i light up a coffin nail
my veins will finally ignite, once again
the dark shack i'm in will be darker
but brighter in my eyes
then my lonely spirit will be lonelier
but i'd have unseen friends in disguise
the subdued toxins will shatter in ashes
but it won't break like my positive qualities mixing in the air
turns out i'm not sniffing the exasperating scent
merely engulfing the ache and the rasp regrets
my peeves shall drown in my foggy statements
letting my weight float through the clouds
mind's hazy,
vision's blurry,
tears shiny,
and heart's happy,
yet the sadness would still creep when the last breath's out
the aftertaste should be really more ravishing
similar to the catchy tunes of 'offonoff'
feverless, manipulating, non-colorless
and especially, not quiddity-vanishing
the nicotine never fails to send me over in a mnemonic mess
directing me in a festinate loop in so many ways
the menthol touch wouldn't be as cold as the other people nowadays,
but when they ask, they'd question;
"what was the song, by the way?",
i'd stumble and fall with my laconic disorder
inside my head like a wounded cassette
then i'll answer,
it's cigarette
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 9:45 PM UTC
Petite, pixie tangerine
As mawkish as the taste of something saccharine
Ludicrous, gawky pair of vague hoops
Forbidden with the cheapest boos
Body's wrapped in a fiery Mongolian coat
Personality-shelves loaded with gloat
She is made of silver and gold
Though in three hundred and sixty-five days,
She had lost courage, had lost hope
The juvenile decided to go red in rust
Like her heart, her blood, her wrath, and her pampers
She puffily cries for help and for the pity,
For the exposed and the logical ******
Thereby, her cheekbones bulged inhumanely,
Stock-still, specked with a festoon of Simper
Such an extravagant trailblazer
A Sangria wine in hand and a fruit ****
With a similar gleam of her deep, raspberry gloss
And the way her chapped lips touched the rim,
It's not as fascinating as it seems,
Because she knows on her part that her heart is lost
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 8:39 AM UTC
You were my drug, the first toxin that I can ever touch.
You were my ecstasy that once sent me over the clouds.
You were my puzzle that I have to fix & break.
You were my maze, had to find my way out and discover the pain.
You were the shimmer that went gloomy when the
marigold sun struck in.
You were the smile that faded when some gleeful
music comes playing in.
You were the unpleasant scent of flowers when they perish under their petal skin and lastly, you were my foremost and last kiss, when you were still lively and keen when we were sixteen.
All of these are my rotten wishes, lulled and attached to the bottom of my pale and weakened heart. Nobody has any idea how colorless I have become when you left me dying, pleading, suffocating─for the sake of our deep altruism. Yes, it's correct, I had been in a euphoric bliss level when both of our unclad bodies were still unbothered and interlocked. And now that you're gone, your unutterable charisma is no longer to be seen and felt, I have no choice but to live with the memory of you and all of these silly, plausible illusory contours that can keep my head afloat.
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 7:18 AM UTC
A beloved nugget of stripes
In patterns of mishap and balderdash
Feigned frameworks and gaudy hips & knees
Overpowered sugar pops, winsome hard cash
They're blondes and fairly vivid, too
Daffodils, Butterscotch, Tuscan sun, and Flaxen yellow
No blackheart is pale nor blue
Just a poor Biscotti hue
Nobody's bonafide, they're just showing off the mellow
Their words are such sharp needles
It burns, it stings, it maims, and it breaks
Narrowed venoms kindled
Maneuver you in a splendor Kaleidoscope effects
I shrieked, "save the bees!",
For they are in a fathomless pit of catastrophe
Flutter thy pellucid wings over the sly seas
Flummoxed between the avocation and the trickery
I aimed, they dodged
Straightforward to the flames and a scant of birch trees
Overdosed in farcical prescriptions,
Engulfed with many bad decisions,
They hushed me down but in my mind, I would still be yelling,
"Save the bees! Save the bees!"
Women are indeed virtuous
Yet, how come some of them became Bumblebees?
Floret power, sweet & sour
An infrequent version of wannabes
No matter how I try and aid,
It would be cheap and phooey
Only savvy kinsfolk will exploit or capitalize
These honey-bees will still strive for the polished trophies
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 6:45 AM UTC
It's a fruit and a flavor
Could be a hue of a color
A tint and a pigment
A portrait and scent
Sometimes, they're your cheeks
The warmth of bright crimson blatant
It's a rare feeling that seeks
An affection in a full crescent
It could be accessories, too
The way those glossy cherries shine
In a hard denim fabric
Embroidered patches on light or navy blue
Stickers on faces, easily frantic
And chains just beneath your exposed mid-thighs
It's innocent, bold, and compulsive
They sparkle within your eye
Its pure nectar peregrinates through your veins
Becoming your blood and cry
It's a powerful topping
That's why you're on top
It's sugary and charming
But you aren't sweet enough
My first glances did not quite match my perceptions
Forming a glossary of you is just an easy favor
Who else would thought that they couldn't be the next victim?
Because it's true that "cherry" is just a fruit and a flavor
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 5:19 AM UTC