Moods are in synch once again
with this monsoon season
raindrops come with threads of pain,
maybe there's a good reason
why pain...rhymes with rain.

there's pen and paper
here...there...everywhere
for, when rain pours
is when my poetry flows
softly weeping its woes
like ice...that quietly thaws.
::::::::
:::::
:::
::
()

sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
July 2020

Who are you?
Who are you?
Who am I?
I couldn't tell you.

I am a shapeshifter.
I have many hues.
My emotions depend
on the feedback of you.

If you love me,
I will shine.
If you play coy,
so will I.

Hurt me,
go ahead and try.
I will turn dark
and blend into the night.

You'll never know
what character I am.
You'll never know
because I don't even know
who I am.

Make babies, not by-products of ***.

Cracks,
On the once beautiful oval oak framed mirror,
From a hand that once so soft and tender,

Anger,
The fuel that runs this almost empty body,
Burning through my blood veins like a snakes venom,

Pain,
From the bruised hand that had a conflict with the mirror,
But even more from a broken heart that can no longer feel,

Or heal,
Ripped out of my chest, ready to be laid to rest,
Love is life's great test, one I have failed at I must say,

I Lay,
Here in a pool of my own regrets,
Swimming through memories I would rather forget,

Protect,
This delicate flower they call a heart,
Yet your promises and actions do not match,

Trust,
In man I can never, for their words and actions not longer match,
It was never love, for you I was just another summer crush,

Alas,
Here we are at last, with my bleeding hand and broken heart,
And all I can say is
Goodbye,