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 Sep 2015 Ken Alorro
Sarah Tayler
You ran thinking it was with freedom
But really you just ran away from everyone who ever loved you
Cursing every hand that tried to pull you from the dark abyss
Ignoring every word that came to comfort you and give you light
You ran and you ran and you ran
Out of breath, stumbling, crying, gasping through the shards of your chest
Because you think, "Surely this pain is better than pausing to feel the emptiness."
But when you stop running, your brokenness will still be there
And you will be so far away from anyone who knew how to fix you
(hypothetical situation of what could happen)
Check out my other pieces if it so pleases you :)
This lonesome blood
Drips through mine lonesome veins
Which leadeth to mine lonely heart
That seepeth in mine lonesome soul
Which cometh out
In the form......

Of poe like poetry!!!!
there's still
a single ray of hope
in every corner of your heart
when everything is unachievable
and when you start to believe


so don't give up
believe in yourself
make it happen
make it possible
if only
the heart was made of
elastic materials
then just maybe
it will only bend

Not much of a poet
but with you I am an avalanche of words
waiting to be written in paper
and you just sit there,
unaware of the effect
you have on my spine.

You talked about the weather
and I am awed on the rarity that a
topic as mundane as the weather
can stimulate my already
shabby senses.
I love you.
You love her.
She loves him.
End of ******* story.
Huwag ka nang magalala
Susubukan kong
Itali sa iyong pulso
Yaring munting tala
'Wari isang lobo
Upang ikaw ay tumahan na
Gaano ba kasakit ang iwanan?
Paano ba tatakpan ang mga lamat
ng puso **** nabasag?
Hayaan **** ihele ka
ng mga mumunting kuliglig sa parang
Sa pagtulog mo
Hangad ko rin
Mabura ang sakit
na iyong dinaranas

-Tula V, Margaret Austin Go
 Sep 2015 Ken Alorro
My chest constricts for biological reasons
It has nothing to do with your charm.
My breath was taken from me today
but don't let that boost your ego.
My voice was hoarse and I was wheezing
see, this has nothing to do with lust.
My heart does not fill with love for you
it's my brain that tells me not to trust.
My threatening disease has not ended me
but my lungs still ache with each breath.

There is no point in romanticising a chronic illness
because it makes you think that this all means something else.
But it's funny because you caused this
and not in the way you thought you did.
So if you could please just put out the
because while you enjoy it,
it's killing me much faster than you
*and I don't want to die so violently.
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