Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
chloie Jul 2019
weeks were wasted,
but days perfected.
how unforgiving:
time, and him.

while your heart is breaking
in front of a fire;
the world still spins,
and hope dies dim.
inspired by the film.
chloie Jul 2019
'di mo na kailangang mangamba pa
kung sinong sasalo sa'yo
pag ikaw ay nadapa;

aakapin kita,
hanggang handa ka nang
bumangon muli.
ako'y naririto,
mula pagsikat ng araw,
hanggang sa pagtanaw ng buwan --
sa pagtatampo't
pagbuhos ng tubig ulan,

hindi kita iiwan.
chloie May 2019
slow, we walk and listen to the beach
whisper in salt and foam
as we get to know each other.

time trickles as you fill in
the picture frame standing on my dresser.
a spot just for you

even if i don't know it yet.
slow burn type of love.
chloie Aug 2018
heaven exists
and it is not
in the clouds
high above;

heaven exists
in the arms
of the person
you most love.
chloie Jul 2018
the wind, unseen,
collides with the walls
and makes them sing
a groaning song.
a wail, a whisper,
then silence.
you hear.
you listen.

then the rain starts
to knock on your roof,
gentle at first like it is shy,
doubt in every drop
or consideration in its presence.
but you know in your heart
that it is not welcome
nor is its embrace;
you endure the knocking
and never dare to go outside
to greet it.
you will feel okay.

then the rain decides
it no longer cares.
the gentleness dissolves.
the pounding starts above you.
so does the pounding
behind your eyes.

the lights go out
and you are engulfed in darkness
making the spaces you've known
your whole life unfamiliar
all over again.
candles replace light bulbs,
orange replaces white.
there is a lick of a little flame
on your hands
wherever you go,
so you don't stumble—
a comfort from the shadows.

flashes of white lightning peek
behind the curtains
and illuminate your face
for a fraction of a second
and you feel either or both:
relief of light,
or a terrible fright.

what are you really afraid of?
or the terrible thunder
that soon comes after?

but you lift your voice to the heavens
and remember to hum
your favorite song.

you pick your way through
the furniture and messy clothes
and open a door.
you lie in bed and surround yourself
with a thousand pillows
and your heaviest duvet.
warmth settles in you,
first in your spine,
last in your toes.
you shiver one last time
from the transition
of being cold to no longer.
you sink into your makeshift fortress
as your eyes adjust
to the faint contours of your room;
bathed in new light (in the dark).
you hear.
you see.

the world outside is in chaos,
but in Here you are safe;
the rain hammers ceaselessly,
but in Here you are safe.

you feel.
you listen.

you sleep.
  Jun 2018 chloie
Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may **** me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Next page