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Anita Daniel Jun 2016
A baby bear who couldn't hibernate
Kept everyone up till late
Anita Daniel Jun 2016
The ground and I are good friends
We have shared a few encounters
The first encounter was when my Dad went to prepare our mansion in heaven with Angels
I was only seven

The second encounter was when we had to move from our house and town to live with Granny and Pops
My mom's folks
I experienced melancholy
Little did I know that Melancholy signified my fourth encounter with the ground
Pops
He touched me made me roll the rubber down his manhood
He put his ugly cigarette thick fingers in my cookie jar
I was only nine
That wasn't enough
He would wake me up in the middle of the night when everyone is asleep and say Angel let us go watch the stars
I wouldn't say no to watching stars that's my favorite thing to do especially late at night
That's when my Fifth encounter with the ground occurred
Pops told me that if I scream he will ensure that he throws myself and baby sister out
I remembered that we had nowhere to go so I obeyed
The ground and I became one at this point for nine years
I didn't tell moms for I didn't wanna ruin her relationship with her folks
She had business trips all the time to ensure that we have all we need
Pops is dead anyways
The sixth encounter was when moms told me she doesn't trust me
That ripped me into microscopic pieces
Luckily we are now good friends
And the rest of encounters are when my "true loves" chopped my heart into cubes


Oh there is encounter it happened when I found out that I have an extra year  in High School
But now all is well

I'm not afraid to fall
For the ground and I are friends
I always standup even if it takes years sometimes
The fall made me who I am now
Don't be afraid of falling. There's good outcomes in falling. You just have to rise. Pick up your shoes and start walking into your destined place. You can do it ***.
Anita Daniel Jun 2016
You
I was dead
You brought me into reincarnation.
My heart was broken into microscopic pieces
You merged those pieces together.
You monitored me into Loving and trusting.
Now that I am immovably tenacious they want me back.
I don't want them.
You are the one I deeply love.
You gave me life for it is said a life without love is not life.
You are my soulmate.
They see that I have found my soulmate now they want me back.
What You and I share is mindblowing.
You are the only one for me.
You are all I need no one else can touch
My heart like you do. There is none like you.  
You are mine and I yours.
Eu te amo tanto querido  
Beijinhos
To the one I love wholeheartedly.
Anita Daniel Jun 2016
We had agreed to meet up today
I called you twice
But you didn't pickup
Earlier this evening I called
We talked
I asked what happened to our agreement
You said "were we supposed to meet today? Hahaha oh yeah we were"
My heart tore
The art got destroyed
Then  you went on by saying that you had forgotten and tis not important
Wow all this time I thought that I was important to you
You still went on by saying you will make it up to me
This is how you thank me after all I've been through and done for you huh
I forgot about making myself happy by ensuring that you're happy
I don't know
Maybe I'm just the girl who has to ensure that you are where you're supposed to be and that's it
All my the me investing my time and self will be enjoyed by someone else
This is so unfair
If this is love then I don't ever wanna love again
Maybe I'm wrong


I shouldn't have shown you my home
Now you know where I sleep
  
If I knew I wouldn't let you in
Now my pillow is soaked with my tears
Oh nothing could ever fix a dented soul
Love can't be like this. There's no way. My heart is bleeding.
  Jun 2016 Anita Daniel
Macy Opsima
I am a writer, a ****** of words. I am a pen that's skipping ink but I still continue to write despite the broken lines because that's what I'm made for in the first place. Maybe the reason why I get hurt so much is that I fall in love with words a lot. I'm in love with people who is in love with literature. These poems and letters may not be made for you or because of you but their main purpose of being written is to move you. I want you to do something about that girl who works in your favorite book shop because I don't want you commiting the same regrets as I did. I want you to raise your voice and write about the oppression or the wage gap. I want you to write about something from the deepest part of your chest. I want you to write about something I cannot write about.

But some days, I feel nothing. I could write about being in love and about the color of their eyes but nowadays, their eyes look exactly the same. I could write about sadness but sadness itself is what hinders me to grab a pen. Now, I could write about happiness. But I rarely feel this way and when I feel this way, ******* I feel this way. I could gather these words about being filled with the color yellow but happiness will say that those words are not enough to fathom the euphoria I feel in me. Maybe one day, I could explore enough dictionaries to find the perfect words on what I have to say.

You don't have to be the greatest writer there is to make someone feel something through your words. Write about everything, every emotion, and every person who finds their way to your heart. When you can't write anymore, get outside and get your heart broken. Go outside and experience an experience that you never thought you would experience. Soon enough, you will write the words you never thought you would ever write. Don't hold anything other than offensive and oppressive thoughts back. Let the poetry run through your veins and drip down your fingertips. Write, write, and write until you can't write anymore. When you can't write anymore, seek a perhaps to write about then write, write, and write until you can't anymore. Even when the poem is below my satisfaction, I continue to share it anyway because being stoic and still would lead me to madness.

I am a writer, a ****** of words. I am a pen that's skipping ink and even though my lines are broken and unappealing, I continue to write anyway and because that is what I am made for in the first place.
Anita Daniel Jun 2016
She is accessible at all times.
Assailable.
Defenseless she lost the might.
Exposed.
Naked her soul is dented.
On the line. On the spot. Out on a limb. Ready to be attacked.
Sensitive.
She is the one who is a sitting duck.
Sucker. Susceptible. Tender.
The thin-skinned one.
Unguarded. Unprotected. Unsafe.
She is weak.
Wide open.
All I am trying to say is that she is VULNERABLE.

But then again.
She desires to be closed, guarded, protected, safe and secure.
Is that so much to ask?
On the Spot
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