I've never written anything for months
I don't know where all the words went
I just know that I dont have anything to say
I tried to seem to be alright
I did my best to seem strong
I tried... yet it seems to be getting more difficult day by day
I feel empty
A rotten shell
I dont know what I'm doing
Nor why I'm doing it as well
Everything is pointles
Dark
A very lonely shark
I stay awake until dawn
I'm always tired
I'm never going to be good enough
I can't seem to be genuinely happy anymore
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 10:39 AM UTC
no, I'm not talking about the ones with big noses
or greasy hair
not the ones with bad breath
or round bellies
no, I just like them raw
a little broken, a little sad
the ones with scars
a story to tell
I sure know how to pick em' you might say
but I'd never give them up any day
a whole adventure in a person like the outdoors
one with canyons and mountains he would let me explore
only ugly guys give themselves all at once
no parts hidden, everything is exposed
vulnerability is thought to be a weakness but in reality it's bold
I like ugly guys.
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 12:04 PM UTC
Eto nanaman,
palaging napapagalitan
dahil sa bungangang masyadong madaldal
at hindi mapigilan
Bakit kaya
kung ako'y magsalita
ang naririnig nila ay
isang taong bobo
at hindi isang makata
Ang liit-liit ng paningin ko
sa aking sarili, hindi sa mundo
lahat ng ginagawa ko ay mali,
bakit ang sama mo sa akin Ale!?
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 1:46 AM UTC
It's really strange,
how your heart could make you feel so deranged,
it's a fist-size muscle,
yet it can give you so much trouble.
I felt the world go silent,
somehow, inside me my heart's defiant,
I touched my chest with my palm,
I can feel it shouting, it is never calm.
I closed my eyes to feel its rhythm,
waiting to understand its symbolism,
And when my eyes were awake,
I know then, that my heart is an earthquake.
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 11:06 AM UTC
It was on September first,
when I first listened to your voice,
It made me feel an overwhelming thirst,
To feel the heat, I didn't have a choice!
You started out slow,
talking as if we're centimeters apart,
Then you suddenly Growled,
the desire scattered in me like abstract art!
I didn't fully understand it then,
How I reached for my shirt and then lower, near the hem,
My skin looked like marmalade,
Your moaning voice is a bittersweet crusade.
I felt like you were whispering in my ear,
making sounds that I didn't know I wanted to hear,
you then shifted your pace,
it took me awhile to realize that this was a chase.
It felt like both of us, together,
soared high, into the sky,
making thunderstorms and any other weather
not knowing that your last moan was actually Good-bye.
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 10:52 AM UTC
Spending a month in a hospital teaches you a lot about people.
The doctor that told me to shave my head or she wouldn't treat me,
The nurses that spent forever chatting to me
And giving me supportive advice about how my illness doesn't define me.
The woman who was given a terminal cancer sentence
And chose not to pay attention to it and defied it anyway.
How she sat next to me on my bed,
Told me that all suffering is valid,
And just because I'm not dying, doesn't mean I don't get to complain.
How she complains more about her skin problems
Than she ever complained about her cancer,
And that's OK, because pain rarely follows rules.
I never even learned her name,
But she gave me the words I hold most closely to me
On those days when I want to fall asleep and never wake up.
I'm allowed to scream and shout and rage against the pain
And the unfairness of it happening to me.
I just have to make sure I know where the line is
Between giving my darkness a voice and pitying myself.
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 6:11 AM UTC
I thought
every word
every phrase
every thought
that got you amazed
set your heart ablazed
was written for me.
I guess
I should've read further on.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC
I want you to remember me,
not just as a Memory,
but as Poetry.
No, I don't want you to only remember,
I want you to feel me,
feel the curves of my free verses,
listen to the rhythm of my sentences,
see me as well-written images.
Touch my soul,
decipher my core,
Grasp my all,
Tell me that you need more.
More of me,
More of Poetry.
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 10:43 AM UTC
I get all overwhelmed when there's too many people.
There's too many feelings, too many thoughts,
That I wish I could feel, I wish I could read.
Too much voices, forcing their way in my eardrums,
demanding me to listen.
This is why I hate crowds,
This is why I value solitude.
My heart can never contain too much of things,
It just doesn't know what to do with it.
My palms, aren't wide enough for something too monstrous.
My lungs aren't big enough for your tornado,
instead of filling me, you're actually suffocating me.
I'm not asking for everything,
But at least, give me something.
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 1:51 AM UTC
Then he said,
"You don't have to restrain any of your thoughts from me.
We both could be Victims of the same sin."
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 1:43 AM UTC