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6.8k · Feb 2015
Rainforest Fever
Pea Feb 2015
The head losing itself
A rainforest
Lake in the heart

Hundred tombstones
Named Narcissus
They Echo

Icy, bluish lungs
Pallid violet nails
Lips still yet loving

Salty bamboos
Necrophilic whistles
Siren's footsteps

Illegal loggers
Burying selves alive
Love, love that is
Pea Jun 2016
xvi. where do you go when your house isn't home?

i ******* crawl out of my body, swim infinite miles of the ocean, stretch my neck to the skies, replace my head with the moon. i ******* yearn for your presence, try to break the mirror with my weak stare, can't go further, fitting room doesn't fit whatsoever, all the buttons escape from my ***** and hair falls like tiny dandelions in a rainstorm.
i grow potatoes in my mouth, when i speak i smell of my root, when i am on my period i talk about stomachache at dinner table, when i search for space my tummy is the balloons at pingkan's 8th birthday party which i couldn't bring home. blow the candles i forgot to make a wish for a moment the fate seems seamless, bright red lipstick, brown mascara, outfits i can't ever wear to school, or to be honest, not anywhere because when i try to walk, every step is a ******* hysterical cry, when i use my toes every cell in my body violently shakes.
my house isn't home. my house isn't home. my house isn't home. my house isn't home. my house isn't home how do you know that? how did you barge into my clich├ęs? how dare you claim something that even i won't bring myself to think about?
i ******* crawl out of my body, not as soon as possible, i do it right now, right ******* now so i know the years i've spent trying to nourish the flesh i don't really own are worthless, the years i've devoted myself to my worldly lover are the ones that have been consuming my tiny soul, if you ask me now of course no one is satisfied, no one is satisfied until i don't want to call you mine anymore.
i ******* crawl out of my body.
in a desperate attempt to make the hideous pleasing to watch, i sell blindfolds on the street, i light the matches in the rain, i dream of dead grandmother and christmas feast. i turn into a cold statue, i left the tenderness for stupid microorganisms, my divorced bones blame me for everything i did not do. i used to do the right things now i just do nothing, it's ******* useless anyway, i can blink five thousand times and still believe that time is what the clocks and calendars say. (my grandmother was a buddhist.)
i ******* crawl out of my body. i don't want to experience this anymore, i am not into this kind of thing, i long for your presence, all i've got from this building is an infinite count of absences. my body is a building, it has no level, no room, no door, no window, no furniture. my body a giant concrete boring box, i do not even live there anymore, nobody lives there anymore, they are all gone to a poppy field in the middle of nowhere (actually somewhere, only that i am not invited). i ******* crawl out of my body, did that answer your question?
i ******* crawl. out. of. it.
with all due respect, please just kindly shut the **** up
6.3k · Jul 2016
I prefer cute
Pea Jul 2016
in the middle of july
i dream of red poppies
it comes out from my baby hole
it's not forming a line
like one day in april 2015
23:13 i drew a bridge
swamped with lil red poppies
not long enough to reach
the wrist
of my left hand
Why would I choose one
if I could have them all
5.0k · Jul 2014
Pea Jul 2014
I want crazy, I want cranky
Let me be that old woman who gets mad easily
Let this misogynistic society grow so great it will never be over oh no
Crush me, objectify me
Romanticize the way I dehumanize myself
Discriminate me
I am the stigmas, don't free them from me
I will drink your *** and be happy
Break me, let me crumble
I am a lump of inedible meat
Make a bet on my rushing blood
Don't lose, don't lose oh you will win for sure
Just say it and ***** on my mouth
Don't let me have worth without you
I am lesser than a slave, don't let me stare at your eyes
Play with my broken bones, cut my veins as you please
Make me beg, step on me
I am watermarked and it says your name
And yes this heart beats for you to stop
It can start again if you say so
You are the God, just do everything you want, just do everything you want
I can't not take it
I am inanimate
I am inanimate
I am inanimate
3.6k · Sep 2014
And after that
Pea Sep 2014
And after that I am still a hollow where the
fairies hide from darkness and poisons. I
am still growing flowers out of my womb
and that is why they stink like *******.

And after that your disbelief kills all my
sparky pixies and after that I cannot be
anything more than a hollow hollow. But
yeah I am still growing flowers out of my
wound and that is why I scream and cry
when you touch them.

And after that the stillness of the air inside
me and the remnant echo of morning songs
attract the darkness to come. And after that
I think she may feel lonely so I invite
poisons to also come along.

And after that I am still growing flowers
out of the wound on my womb. They still
stink like ******* and after that
vomitting feels like womanhood thing. And
after that my flowers are still immortal and
that is why sometimes you see blood clot
floating around the moon.
3.6k · Jul 2014
In Case I Live Long
Pea Jul 2014
You have no idea
of how poetic it is
to eat a great load of junk food
while thinking about life.

I once tried to
keep a healthy lifestyle ---
eat an apple a day
avoid junk food
wake up early
shower two times a day
know my limit of caffeine
go out with friends
listen to popular music
live as a teen
and other ******* ---
in case I live long.
3.6k · Jun 2014
forgetmenot & forget-me-nots
Pea Jun 2014
There will never come a day:
I stuck my head out of the window in rain
Without looking for your presence in between
I drink coffee, any kind of coffee
Without pretending it's you I am drinking
I see lines of poetries
Without reading it in your handwriting
I blow a candle
Without imagining it's her in your heart

(I tried to read a boring book as if
it were your letters ----
But you've never sent me one)
3.1k · Feb 2015
Pea Feb 2015
I cannot eat
you from here, please,
come closer.

You are a flower
blooming in the
wrong season, no,
this isn't always about
you. So when
I sing to you I
sing to wind and
it was you who raised
my voice, so
high only
bats can hear.

Ruby or blood,
I am gonna have them both.
You don't worry
anyway because it
is my growth.

It's not ******* anymore.
And nothing to
do with pregnancy. The
stomachache is
genuine -- so pure and poor,
melodious chemical reactions of leftovers.
3.1k · Jan 2015
When I Talk God
Pea Jan 2015
When I talk God I mean:
3.0k · Mar 2017
water fountain
Pea Mar 2017
the dispenser is out of water & i'm
going to die of dehydration

no kidding. i've really thought about it
and considered it as a way out,
but the pain is unnecessary

so i decided to cross it out.
that's an ancient game already
i've forgotten all the rules.
2.9k · Feb 2015
Old TV Projects
Pea Feb 2015
Sweaty face bright purple and greasy
I used to hide my body between the pages
But he told me to not read any more

Itchy head heated enough to make tea
My eyes are now how the trees say my name
My eyes are now the leeches I put in empty tampons

Sweaty neck I only want some traces of lips
Sweaty palms I only want some other fingers
Sweaty thighs I only want to walk well

******* sad wrapped in plastic
Cranky child trapped in old wrinkling skin
It may well be irrational excuses

Womb nervous and not worthy
Cerebral excuses, hormonal excuses
Highly sensitive person excuses

Delayed maturity excuses
Premenstrual syndrome excuses
Premature menopause excuses

Abusive motherhood at 5
Traumatic childhood at 18
What happens in between stays in between
Pea Jul 2016


only live
within my letters


only live
when you say my name

reminds you of another

is no present
meaningless words

kept us alive
in each other's houses
no address

only a grave
two, i guess
2.8k · Oct 2014
Pea Oct 2014
I become afraid
of the sun -- I just wanted
love -- she burned me twice.
2.8k · Oct 2014
Pea Oct 2014
My legs will soon rot
before i've time to bury
them in the backyard
2.6k · Jun 2014
Genie's Broken Home
Pea Jun 2014
I found a lamp, a broken lamp,
keeps shining despite broken.
A magic lamp from a magic land,
Genie's home, o, sweet home.
Three wishes won't ever do,
three wishes crawling from
Seems broken, o, yeah, it's
a broken lamp, a broken lamp from a broken land,
keeps shining despite broken.

Say your three wishes already,
says Genie.
I am writing a poetry, I whisper quietly.
What do you wish it would be? asks Genie, gently.
Ssshhh, you are bothering me, Genie.
Genie was bothering me
so I leave, I leave like the autumn leaves
drift by the window.
I leave like a sunset on a rainy day ---

Never say goodbye
to a broken lamp, a broken lamp from a broken land,
keeps shining despite broken.
I am sorry, Genie.
2.5k · Dec 2014
Pea Dec 2014
I once had hands like ******* and
when i touched your cheeks you became
bathroom floor.
I didn't tell father i am keeping the

bathroom *****, but i wouldn't let anyone
clean it.
My roommate is sleeping like a pig; i think
i, too, am becoming a higher being.

Back to where it started
It started in somewhere like this;
the very beginning of despair
and all the dark agony
clouding your entire soul ---
it appears on your
skin so do not hide!
Do not hide
for you are so clear yet the world
is too blind
Pea Feb 2016
didn't i tell you?
we cannot escape darkness
while avoiding light
Now listen
2.4k · Jul 2014
Pea Jul 2014
when it rains today
i will save some drops
and tomorrow and every day it falls
i will keep the raindrops
so carefully, so dearly
give my heart, all my life
keep them pure and liquid
for the sake of the raindrops
for the sake of the raindrops, that's it
i still can't claim this
as true love
2.2k · May 2014
Geographical Errors
Pea May 2014
My hand smells of apple and
Iron in my blood begins to revolt.
A shadow puppet smirks, pulling blanket
Wrapped over the 14 year old little girl's thighs;
It's morning already, I've got to **** you,
I've got to **** you.

We found our bodies drowned at
The colorless side of the bottom of Gangga;
As if wars would soon start again
Like when we were older and you sang me
A farewell with such an emotionless voice --
The tuberoses had let you sing the sonnet alone

And since then you could not
Escape the karmic silence;
You began to replace Shiva with the ticking clock which battery's drained;
You ate the mercury, the mercury.
You began to carry your charger everywhere yet I kept
Failing to taste your tongue even for once;
For once I saw the clouds and they're blue
Like eyes of the blonde girl with plastic daisies tucked
On her hair and
Dried forget-me-nots grew on your wet heart;

The Mindanao helped me to get through
But such tight seaweed had tied my feet to you (to get me back to you, to get me back to you);
An island of fears, your homeland; mine; traditional songs and dances I refuse to learn;
City of fire was only your lies.

(I am sorry I got your name misspelled, carved on my soul.)
1.6k · Aug 2017
Pea Aug 2017
I went missing; there's a
Forest in my head
Wandering through
River, sand, mountain
I see you once in a while
1.6k · Oct 2016
Pea Oct 2016

that sweet husky voice of yours
while i come undone on the sheets
washing machine, detergent
i'm all gone
1.6k · Jun 2015
Pea Jun 2015
The lilies bloomed in your chest,
Destroying the pure & dark
With unnecessary beauty.
Your ribs pale & hurt,
Hanging strong, hiding truth.
Such a mother I never would.

You could grow potatoes out of your skin
& feed the entire world yourself.
You could be a forest
& give your lungs for the Earth.
You could cry & clean the ocean.
You could die & still have lives.

But the lilies bloomed in your chest!
Your eyes curious like a child
& they sink to see
Your chest now all wet & *****,
They weep, & you wish you'd died.
O you, could die & still have lives.
1.5k · Dec 2016
I remember you, womb
Pea Dec 2016
a body was where i used to live
knees bruised colors of prayers
kind purple warm green blood flow
dear crimson my old friend

unsex me
an empty shell
1.5k · Sep 2016
"It is finished."
Pea Sep 2016

I've always been sad about the bathroom. The pink and black, hair and blood, tears and out of tune singing, thick and transparent. Whenever I step on the tiles I become afraid of the shower, that silver thing with wet holes, with cold stream and mindless embrace. But here I don't have the fear, only disgust, because the ground is all black and peeling and it sticks to my feet, and the coldness isn't clean, the coldness is only there because I've left it for just too long.

I keep coming back although I hate it, although each drop of water feels like a punishment and the soap bubbles are mocking my greasy everything. I keep coming back although it tortures me, because at the street I can hear the gazes pointed toward me, how the eyes shift when I try to catch, what is not said in front of me I know them all it rings so loud in my ears, I can hear them all. I keep coming back because even in the world of cruelty I still got to have a place to come home, to have something familiar, so I will feel less lonely and as if I had a purpose. It's a familiar pain, the kind of a hit that feels like a kiss. It's always like this, I keep coming back to the bathroom I do not own, I keep coming back and calling it my home. I've always been sad about it, the bathroom, home, I've always been
With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.
1.5k · Feb 2015
Pea Feb 2015
Before 6 a.m.
I cannot fall asleep
It's like a spell
Keeping my eyes open wide

Seeing nothing
Mind thinking of houses flooded
Hands dull and worried
Hands sick and dry

Painted on my sides
And there are also legs
But not mine
Not anymore


Did you know?
Wide thighs are the cause of heart attacks
So they plant some skyscrapers on there
Yet put some medicines in between


*Legs all grown and boring
They only talk when they drink
Legs all hurt and scarred
They only walk in the brink
It's about time
1.5k · Oct 2014
Pea Oct 2014

big hips; small hips and long, skinny legs
people and the worlds inside them
pointing at the screen
which movie should we watch?

the last time i watched movie alone
was divergent
it was an insane ride
and my parents picked me up
knowing i had lost a thing
but they didn't ask
and i didn't tell
i was ***** by poetry

-- i am holy
just like lilith, eve, and mary --

watch out i am trying to heal
so what if i am romanticizing
illness! i am not ill
to lose

my eyes see clear
anabelle, tickets sold out
the people; in hijab, in short skirt
in high heels and slippers
their faces
i see them clear

it looks the same like that friday
just feels different
it has been months
a relatively insane ride
so cathartic

my land may well be a big cathedral
or some sweet mosque
with all the gods
praying to each other
with cold soup in their tongue
and stale milk they offer

to the homeless like us, you know
home isn't really the walls and roof
that keep you from rain and sundust
home is the rain and dust and your sunburned hands and the acnes on your face and
the wounds on your knees
you got when you were learning
to bike
1.4k · Jun 2014
Rocking Chair, Light
Pea Jun 2014
God died right after had given her
The power of creation

Who is she to talk Friedrich
Like her blue premature infant?

I liked the color blue but it is
The color of forget-me-nots

Who am I to talk flower
Like my growing hair down under?

"What are humans?
Why am I different?"

Who is God to ask?
The talking doll now is God

No, no different than
The sky nor the ocean

God is a rolling title
Like a dough, like eyeballs

Who is it to talk breadcrumbs?
The birds aren't like that anymore

I sat on the table

No, no different than a shared diary --- Then
Lou Gehrig should be happy
Then Lou Gehrig should be happy
1.4k · Jul 2014
Mama's Song
Pea Jul 2014
Lost Lost Children's song
Lost at 3:20
in the morning where clock ticks
struggling to blend
Slime-smoo-thie, slime-smoo-thie drink
Slime-smoo-thie, slime-smoo-thie drink
Sia has never been wrong
Bullets brain, bargained
Ballet shoes, never worn out
Stay as clear as tears
Stay as clear as tears
Just burn the witches
where clock ticks
struggling to fade
Oh not even could light a cigarette
Lost Lost Children's song
Lost at 3:20
Found it
Stuck in your baby pink lungs

No smoking, sweetheart
Smoking kills

Lost Lost Children
Do not grow up so fast
Just come back home to Mama
Heal your scratched knee,
Do not learn to bike anymore
Just stay home with Mama
Mama has a song too
Mama sings only for you
Just come back home to Mama

Downfall like baobab's
How dare you grow so fast
Downfall like baobab kid
I hope you find your sheep

Lost Lost Children's song
Lost at 3:20
Lost at wrong perception
Do not find Mama is fine
Alarm ringing
1.3k · Jul 2014
little mermaid
Pea Jul 2014
there is nothing real
your nostrils are one wormhole
and the pores on your face
are small hidden volcanoes
they can errupt any time
though they are just bunch of inactive ones
there is nothing real
not even your fears
that keep you awake for seven years
under the stars who let you burn
in the cold nights when
owls decide to sleep
yes i do
i love you too
there is nothing real
the bats, the crows
the knife, the bubbles
instead of pearls
flowers are growing out of tears
it makes me happy
like smiling never felt this easy
paint my face pink and orange
dunk my head in stale milk
i am growing peacock feathers
and claws of a phanter's
falling out of a window
there is nothing real
1.3k · Jul 2014
Add a poem
Pea Jul 2014
I am adding more and more poems
No matter what they are supposed to be called
No matter what numbers would define them
This is a life; not yet mine, but
I am building a home
A place where I can feel safe
A place where I can feel ****
without being ashamed of it
Here is a life; not yet mine, but
I am still fighting
I am fighting
And I am planning to win.
Pea Jul 2014
why does it touch you deeper
when i say what i write
is based on a true story?

here and now i use no capitalized word
here and now it's him i remember
for it's him who said:
"small letters are more humble"
you know, this is based on a true story;
i met him but not really
my longhands reached him
far, far away from here
surpassed lands and seas
o, how large is my country --
his equals plus one to my gmt
here foods are sweet and there are spicy
he hated and still hates the food here;
it reminds him of the tyrant
who'd only cared about
the west but not that west
and made the east poor and slaved --
he was one of those who
yelled reformation when i was
only nearly two

i am seventeen and so was he --
when i was born.
i love how thirteen connects
our birthdates;
mine is twelve and his fourteen
and i said to him thirteen was my
favorite number
and purple was my favorite color
for his was blue but
i thought of him as red --
red not of the lust but
red of the color of tomatoes --
his mother was a tomato seller
and since i had known that,
tomatoes began to taste sweeter
sweeter than ever

when i said i liked purple
i didn't know it was the color of
the rain,
his first love ever --
when he was just a kid
he wanted to marry her
but then he learnt at school
the rain is not a girl at all
not even alive
he couldn't marry her but
he still loves the rain
so i do too

you know,
i once was an anti-coffee
i used to drink only and only tea but
he loves coffee
so i do too
i once sent him
my favorite coffee along with
a ta-ta-for-now letter
and he replied to me electronically
with a stabbing sad emoticon
it still stabs
but then he said
the coffee was good
and i smiled
but he didn't know it

do you know
what's better
than a cup of coffee in the morning?
"it's two cups of coffee"
he'd say something like that
so this morning i decided to
have a super sweet tea,
sugar so much it
almost tasted like soda --
every gulp was
to my soul.
i almost found the
god in me if i had drank the second cup but
i made coffee instead
no sugar like i always had
not because i like bitterness
it's because every drop of coffee is him
and he is sweet enough already --
but i broke the rule of two
this morning i had
three cups of coffee
three cups of him
and it wrenched me --
la douleur exquise
-- the heart wrenching pain
of wanting someone you can't have

i don't even have a single autograph
of him
i hoped that he would write me letters
with that pretty handwriting of his
but at the same time
i was afraid that he wouldn't
so i sent him bunch
without an address to reply to --
you know, this is based on a true story;
he is a writer
but he doesn't really like
to be called a writer
because a writer will be jealous
of another great writer so
he calls himself a reader instead
and he embraces his thirst of great books
he is a librarian
he lives around the books
he lives for and from the books
he has three cats
and seems like he will
have more cats and more
like his mother,
his mother loves cats too
it's prophet muhammad's favorite pet
or so he said
on the radio

he is a poet
a broadcaster on a local radio
every friday and saturday
and at the end of the broadcast
he will read poems
sent by emails
even you can send your poem
but not all poems can be read
there are so many, you know
here we really love writing poetry
but few like reading it
like me
i read his poems
not because i loved reading poetry
it was because
it's his, it's him

but now
he has done what he should do
he has completed his role
he has made me believe in poetry
he saved me from the disbelief of poetry
he taught me that poetry
could heal
he said that writing poetry
is hugging
and reading it
is returning the
he would read a lot of poems
when he is sick
and now
that's what i do too

he was the one who kept
my feet on the ground
every time i felt down
i sang silently a7x's m.i.a.
lend me your courage to stand up and fight
so he lent me his courage
so i could stand up and fight
and every time this life
felt so wrong, lacked meaning
i remembered his name
and a promise i promised
to him
on my own mind
"don't die before we meet"
yeah, i wouldn't die
i would never die

there was no other way for us
than being yinyang
and that's why i decided to
hate what he loves
he loves coffee
but i couldn't hate it
he loves poetry
but i couldn't hate it
he loves rain
but i couldn't hate it
he loves sylvia plath
but i couldn't hate sylvia
i can't ever hate sylvia
i can't stay away from his sylvia
i love her
and she loves me back
sylvia is my earth
and that's how i realize
he and i can't ever be --

you know, this is based on a true story;
because i say so.
july 13 - 28, 2014
who once was "you" now is "he". (let me know if you know who this "he" is.)
unedited. unfinished. (not that this would be edited and finished.)
i am scared to post this, but this was written for you all on hp, so. **** fears. i hope at least one of you would read this to the end.
1.2k · Jul 2014
Pea Jul 2014
Beware when they look fine
Because that's when the tremble leaves their hand
1.2k · Oct 2014
Sweet Dreams
Pea Oct 2014
This is a strange heat of cloudy day in october where bathroom stalls are the only place they spread the love.

She wants rain. She covers her school bag with plastic so her books will not be soaked. She believes, soon, it will rain.

She becomes a boy when something inside her bleeds. It is a battle wound. It is what makes her beautiful. It is what makes her want to insert her fingers very slowly into your eyes.

She dies monthly; that is why we celebrate easter every month. The eggs also die, only not in a way you can understand. They cry in trash bin, right before a stray dog comes and carries them with its lovely teeth.

"I only want to kiss you like *******. Let's hold hand and be a cramp. We can hug like contraction or the way a womb would."

It will not rain. She begins to open her umbrellas. She has twenty seven in twelve different patterns.

"I think the dog loves me too."

She gives up. She says she will stay. This is the very bottom of her current lowest. Her eyelids are heavy as iron. They only become heavier and heavier.

"I think i can sing amazing grace."

But she never opens her mouth ever again. She cannot even brush her teeth. And when her jeans are stained with blood, she cries like a baby whose lips are sewn together with rose's thorns.

Her eyelids are now corroded. Glad she has counted all the sheeps. She is going to sleep. A long nap. A sweet, sweet dream. *A sweet, sweet dream.
1.2k · Aug 2014
Body Paint
Pea Aug 2014
My belly screams
like a chili,
its tear tidy,

Shower seems so teenage-like
as if I have another acne on
my chin,

Eyes open, wide, blinking
is illegal yet everyone claims
to be suicidal,

My baby bear, Goldilocks
actually had black hair,
long, in a braid like Rapunzel,

Please climb the tower
and meet me, meet
my paint, my paint,

Typos are what make
us human, the chest
has found its old self,

Aching in joy of paint,
once upon a time there was a fan
of hurt lived in a canned rainforest.
1.2k · Jun 2014
Pea Jun 2014
I got a smile from a guillotine.
It tasted a bit sour but mostly sweet;
A lemon flavored cotton candy ---

Should I say hi or go away?

Cute guillotine at a cute play park;
Why do I have to meet you at this time?
You call it moment, my dear, a destiny ---

So let's go to another vehicle or
let's kiss and become another spectacle or
let's just keep romanticizing each other ----

*O, my dove, my lovely rose;
My dear guillotine! This neck is waiting.
Pea May 2014
It begins when a
butterfly dies. My stomach
is an insect grave.
1.1k · Apr 2014
A Wish, Paused
Pea Apr 2014
I was lost
And not found

I wish I had screamed
Before you'd put your earphones on
But I, I
Couldn't scream the music
Your ears needed to hear

I was a parasite
In a womb of an 11 year old lady
Whose father called an exorcist
Instead of hugged her and said it would be okay

I remember what she said when she was my age:
Nothing, my child, nothing would be okay

It was a volcano
Who gave her a flower crown
Made of frangipanis and carnations
Stolen from a cemetery --her mother's
And every death will always mean strength
For the earth

My heart beats in staccato
But, you don't care anything about music, do you?
It was my favorite song
Played over and over and over
And over
Like what you'd said about the duration of love

It's over, my dear

And I wish I had screamed before you'd put your earphones on
Pea Jul 2014
You were loved
It was a burden
You thought it would be unfair
To not return the love
So you let the deafening silence
Fill the room where your voice
Should have been

I know
You were afraid to love
And now
So am I
If it is not
1.1k · May 2014
I'm Not A Poet
Pea May 2014
I'm ashamed; posting
these awkward poems; expecting
you'd read this and smile.
1.1k · Jun 2016
nostalgia in the meantime
Pea Jun 2016
this little girl
has grown, you know.

not in a cute way, though.
she has grown
like a gross building, soon
abandoned, but never to be haunted.

this girl carries no mystery,
even with her eyes
she stares blankly like a puddle.

she still dreams about the sea sometimes.

this little girl
is still a little girl, only now
her body is inflated and
the pure thing is a bit spoiled.

this little girl has never been
fine anyway.
this little girl misses you,
says nothing more.
1.1k · Jul 2016
Mrs. Potato Head
Pea Jul 2016
i'm beautiful

maybe i
'd be forgiven

for being
such a weird

my mind won't
matter anymore

the way i

would be

or may-

be it will be
to joke in

every ways no
one (in the

room) could

it won't matter
if i'm
not smart

maybe i

can have more
scars and

be called
Pea Dec 2014
You saw me and you knew i was just a little bit sleepy but why did you burn the incense and cried in front of me?

[I wasn't dead... yet]

You begged and begged so i would make it easier for you but you did not know i am god and immortal and i know everything right and wrong, so

what if i chose the latter?


[I didn't, though.]
I won't free you from guilt and shame
I won't let your anger fade
But i let you die, i did
And so you did, you died
Along with our hair-
Dead on the floor
1.0k · May 2014
Dry Ice Mist
Pea May 2014
A dentist with a
dental dam. But she prefers
wearing dental gag.
1.0k · Oct 2014
Pea Oct 2014
in my dream you were
running like a rat
wearing your fingertoes like
hydrangeas and heartache
in your head
where all the nice things passed out
we built barbed fences around our heart
to keep it still
like a ghastly statue
i had no clue
in my dream you were
planting apple seeds
in a corn field
i gave you a knife
became a mermaid
the last child
and a sea
in my dream you were
shining like a sun
brainlike exploding
having planets around
like flower crown
in my dream
you were
warm mug i'd left at home
three a.m. and homework not done
a highschool girl
long forgotten
in a potrait on your identity card
995 · May 2014
Pea May 2014
Poetry's there to touch.
But, touching without consent
is bad, isn't it?
Pea Jul 2014
I am so young
Yet so strong
Strongly salty
Like the seawater
Strongly lazy
Like the wind

I am dull
As a knife I don't have worth
Even pen can stab but I cannot
I am the seawater; I am the wind
I don't need to explain my worth to you

Every morning I wake up with poetry
On the tip of my tongue
On every clip of my nail
My fallen hair
The dead cells on my bed
My greasy face

I open my eyes with poetry
This heart beats in poetry
These erythrocytes carry poetry
I breathe poetry
I live in poetry
I do not need words
Not all poetries are words
And that's enough
975 · May 2014
A Kitchen; The Kitchen
Pea May 2014
Fallen leaves that are
Nourished by an honest wound ---
Never yet a scar
968 · Aug 2014
Magic Mirror
Pea Aug 2014
How sweet of you that you
write my destiny
so I just have to
enjoy the ride
without having
to think of anything
else. I am so
for that. I do not
have to worry
at all. I just need
to be your
mirror. Your magic one.

How sweet of you that the
reflection you see
in me is all the things you
want to see. I am
your magic mirror.
Your glorious reflection.
I tell what you
want to hear. I be what you
want to see. I hold what
you failed to bear. The dreams
of your waste
d youth ----
Place the pride
on my shoulder.
I am an unbreakable soldier.
Place the armor
on my shell.
I am so small I cannot be empty.
Your care nourishes
me. You make
me believe that I am
loved. I survive, I
can face the world all
thanks to
the warmth you
give to my
iron soul.

I'd rather stay myself and be corroded than melt.

How sweet of you that you
forgive my harsh
words and my ill
gazes and all
those high pitched
voices. I know I
am forgiven for all days
you keep saying
that. How sweet of you
and your forgiving heart and
your genuine fatherly
love. How sweet of you that
you keep giving us
your already stolen
life. I stole it and you
are pleased. I am your magic
mirror. I be
the reflection you want
to see. I hold
the dreams you failed
to bear. Oh, you
write your
own destiny in me.
Unnecessary note: Some part of this might or might not have been exaggerated.
957 · Feb 2016
Pea Feb 2016

it doesn't matter
how i wear my body
if i can't give you
a pleasant sight,
i can also eat
your eyes out for you.
Is licking eyeballs still a trend?
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