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  Jan 2015 Chelle Quezon
bcg poetry
She waits for you.

In every way possible, she waits for you.
When she has a story, she waits for you.
When she has good news she waits for you.
When she has bad news she waits for you.

And even though she met someone, who will treat her nice, and who isn't in some far away place, and who is actually still in her life.

She waits for you.
Chelle Quezon Jan 2015
Somebody out there
Won't think twice to date you
Won't have to choose who he wants to be
because he know it's you
Won't make you cry and if he ever will
I'm sure it's tears of joy.

Somebody out there
Won't complain if you want romantic movies
Won't tell you ****, instead you're beautiful
Won't be embarassed, he will be silly with you.
Won’t be ashamed of your flaws and mistakes,
He will hold you and love you anyways.

Somebody out there
Won't make you feel like an object
He will treat you with respect.
He won’t get mad when you wake him up at 3am
Because you are on the verge of breaking down.
Instead he'll feel special because you trusted him
And let him see you in your most vulnerable state.

**Somebody out there
Won’t have to ask you if you are upset,
He knows by the look you have on your face.
Won't judge you, but understand you.
Won’t let you go, he will hold you so tight
Thank God every night
That he put you into his life.

Somebody out there
Won't make you feel worthless
cause he know you're a Princess
Won't break your heart
and will hold your hand
As if holding the whole world around.
P.S. When you meet that boy, you will realize why it didn’t work out with someone else.
Chelle Quezon Jan 2015
You stabbed me
A hundred times
And then you acted
Like you were the one
Who was bleeding
and the worst part
was that
Everyone was helping you
While I was
Bleeding to death.
  Jan 2015 Chelle Quezon
Rose L
You once told me you liked the way the city
breathes in beats of cold concrete
And since then I've found there's something fragile about our motley body heat
Cold breath and fur coats deep in the forest with the roaches
Burnt earth from the other kids' fires
Comfortable anxiety through wet window panes in the morning and wet hair in the evening
Both of us have fingernails nawed through to the bone
And lips scaled scarred but we still call them home
Hey, we're diamonds down to our human hilt
And we laugh when we realize our teeth are sharper 'cause of it
Pop your joints and join me in the tent we put up half heartedly
With the bags stacked up in the corner like mock artistry
Because we enjoy the grass more than we enjoy the stars -
Comets and planets only appeal to me when all of them are ours
Swirling in the eyes like a mark of what makes me yours
Or painted on your hands in kids acrylic when I'm tired and bored
Blue seeping into your freckles
Like starry night for sorry lovers.
:'(
Chelle Quezon Jan 2015
I've always admired
the hands of a poet
fragile, yet capable of telling
the most breathtaking stories
and writing down
the most frightful thoughts
in the form of ravishing metaphors
so no one really gets
how dreadful they really are

the hands of a poet
can take you to a place
that’s constructed out of time and illusions
the hands of a poet
can lift you up
and make you fly
they can take you to the only place
that they would call shelter

I’ve always admired
the hands of a poet
because they can form the letters
so resolutely
while the words are still pondered about
they can make words look
like they’re on the right place

the hands of a poet
aren’t as damaged as their feelings
and unlike the mind of a poet,
they age
until the poet can’t write
the beautiful thoughts down anymore
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