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 Nov 2018 danne
lX0st
The Chase
 Nov 2018 danne
lX0st
I numbly leap then look
Bounding rooftops stories high
Blood’s quickening pace
A blazing fight behind my eyes,
Constant chatter beneath my skin
Begging me to survive;
I counter, disdain
And dive to swift demise
 Nov 2018 danne
Kimberly
She laid a rose
To the gravestone of who she was
Long since she buried all her woes
Laid with a dress of her flaws
She closed her eyes
To verdigris pools and waterfalls
In a bubble of lows and highs
Not one trespassed
Her perfectly peach painted walls
In a world where a flutter in her chest
Sends a signal for a threat
For life was faithful in collecting debt
Somehow you only get crumbs of bliss
And mountains of sadness
So she laid a rose
And forgot who she was
She buried all her woes
Along with her flaws
With a heart on top.
Whoo dark times.
 Nov 2018 danne
Kimberly
You are more than just your face
You are a heart beating 108,000 times, and an average of 23, 040 breaths a day

You are your thoughts running every second, a mile a minute or a leisure stroll around the gardens of your brain

You are in every word you speak, if only you could taste every sentence you give to the world you’d stop yourself from tasting the bitter aftertaste of hurtful phrases and instead savor the sweetness of kind sentences

You are in every love you give, the trees are greener in the wake of your careful steps, the flowers blossom along the path of your good intentions, and in the ocean of your pure soul sea creatures live one more day

You are the lines on your palms, made up of straights and bends, a future you couldn’t make sense of but a road all the same

You are made up of stars that make up the universe that light up the world, so light up your own world, light it up like the thousands of fireflies inside of you, for you are the world and the world is you.
You are an intricate pattern woven into the fabric of the earth. You exist to live.
 Oct 2018 danne
Kimberly
Blue
 Oct 2018 danne
Kimberly
Isn’t it a wonder
How sometimes the sky
Looks like the sea
The slow drifting of the clouds
Like gentle waves
Where ships pass through
Traversing jets and airplanes
Across the deep, deep blue
It’s such a wonder
How we have gossamer wings
Beautiful things
To look up and down to
And yet
The color of sadness
Is only the kind of blue
We ever train ourselves to see.
When sadness is a constant thing, learning to skirt around it, to live around it, is half the battle.
 Sep 2018 danne
Kimberly
Perhaps I’ll never love
The way I read books
That all consuming
Maddening
“You are my life now”
Kind of true love

Maybe I’ll never fall
The way I listen to music
The way you become
So lost in a song
You feel what you hear
You believe without seeing

Sometimes it’s a steady ticking
Constantly worrying
Never actually caring
“You’re young you’ll find someone”
Plus every other versions of this saying

Other times it’s a storm
This tsunami of doubt washing out
Every last bit of hope
Like water, instead of making it float
It’s sinking the boat
If you’re never really lucky generally
When it comes to love
Why the flippity flop would you be?
Why does true love feel like it’s only for people who are extremely lucky?
 Sep 2018 danne
Kimberly
We followed the melody into the forest
Sweet song slowly soaking through
We envied our ears
That danced with the notes
And followed the keys like stones
Laid out into the woods
Speakers formed from the hollows
The earth beneath our feet
Thrummed with the bass
Hummed with the voices
So lost into the forest we go
When the voices formed
Into ethereal dancers
We stared
We were afraid but we saw
Art that swayed and breathed
And glowed
With graceful hands they offered
Gilded cups filled to the brim
Our very own melody
Should we choose to be
Into this forest and never go
For one second we thought
But that was all it took
With parched throats
We followed the melody into the forest
And never looked back
After the very last drop
I’ve always believed in fairies, and the very possibility of them existing is fascinating to me. Maybe I wouldn’t mind staying once I’ve followed the music they’re playing.
 Sep 2018 danne
Kimberly
Artemis
 Sep 2018 danne
Kimberly
She stood there unmoving, her back straight
Still as a statue, after a long, torturous wait
With hair fluttering like a smashing sail
Vivid like sunset that seeps through every crevice in the air

Amber eyes burning like the fiery depths of hell
Passion muffled by the angelic smile on her face
With rattling grace she marveled at its perfection
The litheness of its descent enough to set her heart into delirium

It landed with a thud, breaking branches on its wake
Cawing once, the milieu faded on the background
Emblazoned with nameless hues and shades
Now everything else dulls and fades

She reached for an arrow, wondering
Why a thing with feathers on one end
Soft and innocuous as it may seem
Can have a part so inevitably noxious, it’s inane

Stretching the bow as far as it may go
The sound making her flinch all the way through
Her hands, so steady, now quivered ever so slightly
She aimed, the voice in her head screaming finality

For one moment her resolve faltered
Wavering as her stormy gaze softened like snow
The roaring in her ears dulled to a white noise
As the creature turned and snatched her voice

A gust of air escaped from her mouth
Breathing was suddenly impossible
But before the beauty could take off and leave her
A sudden prismatic burst of feathers filled the air
In high school, we were required to read a Filipino epic poem called “Ibong Adarna.” In a nutshell, it is about a magical bird that could heal anything by singing its seven songs. However, these songs could put anyone to sleep almost immediately and once you’re under, it will turn you into stone by dropping its **** on you. I wrote “Artemis” when I was in college, inspired by this magnificent bird and the goddess of hunt herself, hoping I could paint with my words, as was the goal of our literary folio that year called “Canvas.” If you made it this far, thank you so so much for reading this.
 Sep 2018 danne
emnabee
Away
 Sep 2018 danne
emnabee
Lately
I don’t feel close
to poetry.

It feels elusive.
Unfamiliar.
Once it spoke to me.
But now it’s mute.

It sits back
and doesn’t look
at me.

If I call out
it doesn’t hear.

Lately poetry is
like that demon
I used to want
to reappear.
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