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Allyssa Bonita Aug 2018
At first it was his eyes, his eyes when he smiles
His smile and his eyes, I was captivated
And I forgot what it’s like when I was
When I was... alone, ‘cause it was his smile that kept me on my toes
It was my toes that shivered when he goes, when he goes, I will go
I will go. Will. Go. Don’t!
Don’t you go, ‘cause I don’t think I’ll be able to forget
The butterflies when our arms carressed
The magic that we possessed... when we’re together
The magic that only I felt... when we’re together
When we’re together
When. We’re. Together. Together with other people
With other people ‘cause we’re never alone
‘Cause there was no reason for us to be alone
No reason ‘cause it was only his eyes that I know,
It was only my name, my face, that he knows.

-END-
This is one of the poems in my His Collection, a collection of poems for the boy I used to like.
Allyssa Bonita Aug 2018
Anxious was I
Anxious when his eyes burrowed into mine,
Lodge into my soul until I wasn’t fine,
Until I wasn’t fine ‘cause I couldn’t breathe like he was ******* the oxygen out of me like I was his tree,
His reason to breathe
But anxious was I
As his stare barely left my eyes,
Was it only me that couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe?
How can he do this to me?
Our stares locked with heavy security
Like it couldn’t break, I couldn’t flee
I couldn’t flee ‘cause he held onto me through his eyes
But anxious was I
When he left my eyes
He left my eyes like it was nothing
Like it didn’t mean anything, or was it just me?

-END-
This is one of the poems in my His Collection, a collection of poems for the boy I used to like.
Allyssa Bonita Aug 2018
There was no way to deny I heard a voice of an angel
A screech from a holy brabble
A voice from the holy bible
A melody you can’t deny
Sure, I might get too excited, maybe a little bit exaggerated, or maybe I overreacted
But it was his voice that I hear all the time in my ear, in my head
His sound waves trapped in my head
Yes, I might seem obsessed, a little bit out of sense, or maybe over the fence
But it was his voice that I memorized even before
Even before we met, the voice that’s been in my head
The voice I couldn’t forget, the voice in my dream, the voice of the man in my head
His voice was so familiar... but it can be just me, being head over heels, being delusional.

-END-
This is one of the poems in my His Collection, a collection of poems for the boy I used to like.
Allyssa Bonita Aug 2018
I wouldn’t say that I liked it, but his smell lingered like meal on the table, it was appetizing
At the beginning
I thought I never noticed but then I started to take notice, I loved it, his smell, I was disgusted by the thought but I liked it, I fell, for his smell before I even took notice, I fell
His strong fragrance left my skin as he sprinkled his cologne on me, I cringed
I think he thought I was smelly, but who cares what he thinks, I pinched myself back to reality
Pinched myself back to reality
Myself back to reality
Back. To. Reality
His smell was intended for someone else,
His strong fragrance belong to someone else,
He belonged to someone else
He likes someone else.

-END-
This is one of the poems in my His Collection, a collection of poems for the boy I used to like.
Allyssa Bonita Aug 2018
Through the crowd of hundreds, as the lights blinked and the music pounded, my ears were deaf but my eyes were searching, searching for his face.
He had these wrinkles as an old man does, whenever he smiles it shows and the whole world pauses, my. world. pauses, and I lose my head, I felt possessed.
As he smiled his dimples showed, as deep as an endless hollow, but he showed no shallow of emotions nor sorrow.
When he’s serious, I couldn’t figure whether he’s mad or not eager, there’s nothing to point with my finger, nothing to do even for a painter. As I turned my head I hoped to see, his face that made me unsteady, but as I turned there was nothing to see, nothing but him next to some lady.
It’s weird but I imagined him, looking at me as the lights dance on him, and all the lights were dim and a spotlight shines on him, but I was there looking at him, watching her beside him.
But I only know his face so much, and there was nothing I could do but, but to stand and watch, ‘cause I only know his face so much, but I don’t know know him that much.

-END, end of collection-
This is one of the poems in my His Collection, a collection of poems for the boy I used to like. This ends the collection because it’s the last poem I wrote for him before losing feelings for him.

— The End —