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 Jan 2021
Ileana Amara
these are the nights, the late hours
relentlessly dripping into flawed poetries
pondering about love and scratching old scars.

IA ☕
 Jan 2021
Ileana Amara
what would it be like if we run the world?

all love, all chaos, all mess of fragmented thoughts & emotions
contained in an individual entity; all moving in a unified direction.

IA ☕
01.14.21. | "spill out your thoughts."
 Jan 2021
Ileana Amara
most poets seem to be too drunk in love,
vomiting out words as their heart throbbed

while i was one who stayed sober,
after a few bad hangovers;
writing as i clutch a bottle of wine to cope,
maybe next time, i'll pour it onto a glass of hope.

IA ☕
01.13.21. | not really one for drinking but i hope i got the message right.
 Jan 2021
Ileana Amara
chaos kissed my soul,
whispering "play with words,
tear apart the whole,
then break your heart,
with your own hands
on the hilt of the sword."

IA ☕
 Jan 2021
Ileana Amara
what most people try to look for,
but it's a tunnel vision;
meant to limit one's complexity.

IA ☕
01.11.21. | watched something quite insightful earlier and here's my thought/s about it. i used to think i have to find my purpose which was so often believed by the myriad as something that's entirely capable/responsible of the good things to come. but it's a tunnel vision to keep our lives confined in this singular purpose or perhaps something that's grand.
 Jan 2021
Ileana Amara
i have left pieces of me to people i've loved,
i called it art; some remains close to me like home,
some are kept and never retrieved, relentlessly wandering ;
round and round in a museum filled of memories & history.

IA ☕
01.07.21. | it's been a while since i last wrote a poem past 3AM in the morning after having some coffee. here's my first poem for '21.
i also made a twitter & ig platform found at @ileanaamara_ , i'm planning to use it as a creative outlet of poetries, art, & spilled thoughts. although posts are yet to come, feel free to visit. :)
 Jun 2020
Ileana Amara
in the subtlety of time,
they dragged me into a dark pit of existence,
sundered my being with their sharp claws
of everything as dark as their eye pupils
they had no ears to listen to my wails,
chained in terror, at loss for hope;
I was their sole epitome of misanthrope,
birthed by my own mind; demons beyond my scope

loneliness engulfed me; the downside of solitude
demons voided me from a life well-pursued
they were an illusion who loves to delude,
day by day, I attempted to befriend them,
what better way to lure an enemy into a friend condemned?

yet there was a root to its subsistence,
there was pain to its persistence,
it was real, desiring for our coexistence.

IA ☕
 Jun 2020
Ileana Amara
when you breathe life and forget about existence
paving a secret passage towards happiness,
ecstatic, passionate, alive; beating up cruel fate's wittiness.

IA ☕
 Jun 2020
Ileana Amara
I think it's beautiful to be constantly reminded
that orchestras are composed of diverse instruments
embracing individuality to create a harmony undead,
by the conductor's hands, a music lives, unfolding beautiful sentiments.

IA ☕
A gentle reminder that there is no need for racism to reign over our lives; our individuality as human beings makes us who we are, and if we could embrace this wholeheartedly, we too, most likely create a harmonized diversity.
 Jun 2020
Ileana Amara
in the vast majority of galaxies,
and written down histories
I think it's beautiful we exist in the same era;
weaving tales of friendship, love and ephemera.

IA ☕
 Jun 2020
Ileana Amara
when hope drains out like a soul moving out of a body,
it is difficult to walk a path with purpose and steady

when love becomes a baneful burden,
there goes a slit in a wrist, and deep, dark eyes swollen

when faith blurs and requires mere senses to see,
death waves at the doorstep, and life seems to does flee

when the demons take over,
I am dragged down to hell
into the deep pits, seemingly detrimental forever
but I am a dichotomy that neither likes fair-hell or farewell

IA ☕
This is a poem I'd likely write to my younger self.
 Jun 2020
Ileana Amara
we're down to the sixth month of twenty-twenty
closing previous chapters, chasing new camaraderie
the chasm and contagious line of diversion keeps worsening
it's alright to wish for new beginnings or a regression to the mean.

have some fearless faith, today is a fresh, blank slate
dare to carve wishes with hope to what is unexpected by fate.

IA ☕
 May 2020
Ileana Amara
when our stories begin to drip in polychromatic hues,
I long to have a decent epilogue for this story of two;

if this is a goodbye,
I wish our end with a smile and not with tears in our eyes

if this is a goodbye,
I hope at the forked road we part, we both learn how to get by

if this is a goodbye,
I long to preserve the good old memories and not let them die

if this is a goodbye,
I sincerely, and deeply hope everything we had is not a lie.

IA ☕
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