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Irene J Jun 2018
I met you across the subway,
we took a walk at the Central Park.
We went to a $1 pizza restaurant on our first date.
And spend the rest of our date at The Met.
We moved in together in an apartment in Tribeca.
And we go to work in Manhattan.

But one day on a sunset,
you took me to The Empire State building
and propose to me.
And we got married at the City Hall.
This was very random, well, in fact, I imagine this happening to me lol.
Irene J Jun 2018
Tell me why you cry
tell me if you love me
tell me why did I do wrong
tell me if I should sail the ocean
to prove that the earth is round?
Irene J Jun 2018
I could smile.
I could cry.
I could tear a wall.
I could burst into laughter.

I could hate you so deeply,
but I could forgive you
like it never happens.

I could be the quiet one
in a middle of a conversation
but I could be the louder one
when you start a conversation with me.

I could talk a little,
I could talk a million words.

I could sing terribly,
but I could sing beautifully.

I could notice the one thing
people will never notice.

I could forget things,
but I could remember things
that people won't remember.

I could be perfect,
but I never could be perfect.
Irene J Jun 2018
The hand that written have
become frozen.
Words have become
meaningless.
The paper is just an empty
blank space.
The love story is never
the same.

How can I say I love you,
when a poet died
and words are no more a word for love?
But instead, words have become a hurtful way
to **** somebody soul,
Like the poet.
This poem was just a one-minute poem I wrote a few days ago and I don't even know if it makes sense lol.
Irene J Feb 2018
Love is like the wind,
you can feel it,
but you can't see it.

Love is wide as the ocean, too wide until
we are lost in the middle of the sea udders.

Love is like a season,
it comes and go,
and change circumstances.

and I ask myself,
Why is love created?
if only to feel and cannot be seen,
if it leaves us in the middle of somewhere,
and if it only to come and go and never stay?
This is my first poem and why I decided to keep writing poetry.
  Feb 2018 Irene J
Kj
dating a writer
is like guessing the weather.
you think you know what you'll get,
but you never do.

you never know
because

she'll create a hero
from your weaknesses

and she'll write a great character,
from every last flaw.

she'll create a thousand plots  
from your worst nightmares.

she'll take every last thing you hate
and create something you'll love.

she'll turn your anger
into confessions of adoration,

and she'll make you,
everything you're not.

but worst of all,
she'll leave you wondering-
is it you she's in love with,
or things she's created from you?

but here's the beauty of it:

if you date a writer,
you'll never die.
Irene J Feb 2018
Help me,
I'm drowning.

Nobody see's me,
I'm invisible.

There was no air to breathe,
there was nobody listening,
I was all alone.

The darkness pull me down,
and the light slowly slipped away.

I didn't take a chance nor I try
because nobody could save me,

except myself.
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