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fifth
M bought on stolen wine
this choke to make you feel light-headed the half-naked girl standing in front of me i smiled the lips, awaiting one unfortunate gripping of tongue this december fueled by hindrances in a week we might call a year i know i know why you color your hair half-red its fires sweep what's left of the suffocating oxygen as if stuck between the walls of two houses i know i know that everytime you undress its meant to entice an embrace that will clothe the skin permanently no more drunk messages in the wee hours of the morning to wake up nightmares our optimistic eye would see as a redemtption in waiting the alcohol bottles you sleep with (you need to put yourself to sleep with) quietly put to the side you can rest now this december needs you the cold cannot be felt without your heat
0
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 3:39 AM UTC
red snowflake
storm ranges blitzing the animal crossing of your skin while the faint smell of gin lingers couched, soft stomach dispensing each nicotine hit you blaze the eyes pierce sharp butterfly leverage and the sword between your skin makes me faint oh, black sweater madness in this hour of midnight
0
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 1:05 AM UTC
cc
I'm worried that loneliness is the only thing I am fond of
0
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 5:21 AM UTC
attachments
We were there even before the universe fell into place Star-crossed lovers Two eventualities collide in the backdrop of an ever expanding space
0
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 5:20 AM UTC
fated
It's hard to say this but I'm happy we decided to let go of each other
0
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 5:20 AM UTC
candid
It was 2 p.m. and it was raining Slipped between my lips is a cigarette I bought for five pesos And as I drag the hit burning the tobacco inside the white, rolled paper of slow death The mist produced by a collision of raindrops and hard surfaces reach parts of my body Cold, goosebumps prepare me for a slight shiver It seems odd Odd enough that I take another batch of poison gas Throwing myself more into a void or a sanctuary or a jail cell for the ****** Looking up, the clouds were a mix of blurry vision and felt like a dark premonition Something's about to happen It wouldn't rain so hard if it didn't Back then Back then I remembered an incident where I journeyed towards home I kept waiting for my mother or maybe it was a guardian of old Move me back to my sheltered existence No one was there this time My heart, pulsating both in frustration and fear kept me from collecting myself; same with the raging pouring of the rain, shattering liquid into tiny droplets Courage seemed to avoid me until that moment Moments putting us into a corner And all we could do is to cross the line between restless indecision and frantic action I guess it wasn't enough Releasing the final moments of carbon monoxide I slip back into the place where my body is fixed upon People playing chess, a woman walking in defeat, men hurrying and scuttling their things protecting them of the indignation I walk back inside and I sit as do everybody else in the room Divided by a green piece of wood Encapsulated in their own little bits of happiness Sometimes, colliding with others Mostly, alone Clicking insanely as we always do
0
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
80
It was 2 p.m. and it was raining Slipped between my lips is a cigarette I bought for five pesos And as I drag the hit burning the tobacco inside the white, rolled paper of slow death The mist produced by a collision of raindrops and hard surfaces reach parts of my body Cold, goosebumps prepare me for a slight shiver It seems odd Odd enough that I take another batch of poison gas Throwing myself more into a void or a sanctuary or a jail cell for the ****** Looking up, the clouds were a mix of blurry vision and felt like a dark premonition Something's about to happen It wouldn't rain so hard if it didn't Back then Back then I remembered an incident where I journeyed towards home I kept waiting for my mother or maybe it was a guardian of old Move me back to my sheltered existence No one was there this time My heart, pulsating both in frustration and fear kept me from collecting myself; same with the raging pouring of the rain, shattering liquid into tiny droplets Courage seemed to avoid me until that moment Moments putting us into a corner And all we could do is to cross the line between restless indecision and frantic action I guess it wasn't enough Releasing the final moments of carbon monoxide I slip back into the place where my body is fixed upon People playing chess, a woman walking in defeat, men hurrying and scuttling their things protecting them of the indignation I walk back inside and I sit as do everybody else in the room Divided by a green piece of wood Encapsulated in their own little bits of happiness Sometimes, colliding with others Mostly, alone Clicking insanely as we always do
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59
in riches or poor valiant increases of fervor flow through incandescent lights waiting to be filled with something bright or honest honest as the birds in flight justified through means of tender care and unending honesty Even then i remember each step my fragile body stumbles upon shivers and shuddering winters between my thighs oh how you warm them up like supernova sunshines carefully placed inside flaccid muscles waiting to be fulfilled overwhelmed by faces concrete buildings bundled into unnerving kaleidoscopes of beautiful spectacles of thought space; sets of evenly matched colors flow unto trembling tremors of tactless thought random, rambling, rancid odors and in the end precisely splitting atoms hydrogen bombs exploding imploding my brain, humbled my soul, fulfilled
0
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 1:11 AM UTC
85
you would sometimes pick up the phone and whisper, "i love you" to me whenever strange signs you wish would happen happens every 1st day of the 1st week of every month you'd send me sweet loveletters inside pink envelopes mailing them a week before since post moves slow but i wonder how it gets there exactly when you want it to be and when you wanted to break up you got what you asked for how i cried for hours after dark and maybe float my head while in school trying to conjure up ways to make you mine again i had the that last chance dated august 14th you had practice of your sport and i see you flying your ways in your shorts sweaty with the passions gritty on demand a bunch of flowers in my hand you saw me saw you and you closed the gap between us just to rub my hair all wrong again you walked away i walked away i never saw you then since high school flies as people move on to places sometimes forced; others out of open will i was one of the middle kind forced to get away from all the bad memories openly running as far as my feet can bare but before leaving i took our old telephone set and its still with me in my apartment then id wish for strange signs like maybe if i see a man in a red shirt in a red car you'd find a way to call me and maybe whisper "i love you" again
0
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 1:10 AM UTC
telephones
I'm sorry for my hand squeezing your shoulder. I'm sorry for the crossfire produced by our eyes. I'm sorry for an advanced lamentation, the hugging of our thighs. I'm sorry for awkward rides my spinning makes - you revolve around mine. I'm sorry for starting our days without caffeine or ending the day with shouts. I'm sorry for tomorrow too, I wouldn't be welcoming goodbyes. I'm sorry for the cursors pointing northwards, different skies. Maybe then our apologies could collide.
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Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 11:33 AM UTC
11:33
Before, I was a young child Standing innocently beside a rusty green gate that separated my anxieties from the harsh land and rough air I breathe in, slowly, as if to memorize the patterns my body makes Expanding then imploding A perfect metaphor for how a mind makes its own maze and how everyone of us wants to escape Stalemate Continually playing chess against my own self-consciousness Nay, my very own Tyler Durden Sometimes I lose track of time And all of a sudden things whisper back to me Inaudible, I shrug as I lay stationary in my bed Looking straight up at the ceiling Green, white, I do not know I remember things Remembering is peculiar Moments seem like dreams now I cling to it And I feel tired What is my connection then? To that young child A picture on the wall and the face of a man, grown and ragged due to the rigors of modern times Everybody wished they can go back At least once I know, I can't speak for everybody But, truly, deep inside me A longing for the past that seems so uncharacteristic of life Colors, mentioned only in name Faces, blurry and distorted Places, forcing us to smile at happy memories or frown upon them Yet, I can never connect again Someone said to me that the potential of humans are equivalent to an explosion of a million hydrogen bombs One for every molecule in our body How I wish I could explode Not like a hydrogen bomb Dynamite will do
0
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 9:54 AM UTC
October, the month of cold retreat