Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Nov 2015 Manda
J
MAYBE ONE DAY
 Nov 2015 Manda
J
I was high, high above,
Then the thought of what it’s like to be loved?
Anytime this plane will land,
Imagine you are holding someone's hand,

Tracing the stars,
Looking at those tiny cars,
Maybe it feels like this; like you’re floating,
To you every touch is soothing.

I whispered to the cloud,
Someday you will be found,
I stared at the moon,
And said it will be over soon.

Funny that I wrote this,
I wrote this for the feeling that I miss,
No person that I’m pertaining,
Just missing the words  *Mahalaga ka sakin.
Sometimes we just miss the feeling, not the person

("mahalaga ka sakin" means you're important to me)
 Nov 2015 Manda
Henry Brooke
on these cobbled beaches
of streets so bland, suburban sadness
streches like sand.
and out of the fog
the one that kills the bugs and people
leaving them dead, unanimated
along the flagpole, i feel it creep.
the beloved one is here,
again
far and close from my heart,
close and far from me,
yet nothing ever happens,
no results to see,
the fog could last a year
and wouldn't still grow up

she's pretty,
in my dreams at least.
How sad.
A virtual g̶i̶r̶l̶friend
I could Love
 Nov 2015 Manda
Destiny Fleming
I remember the innocence of my childhood
happiness.

It was before bracelets were used
for more than just fashion…
before they were used to hide jagged cuts

The days when I only cried for my
scraped skin.

Now I cry for heartbreak and the loss
of more than just happiness.

The days where pills were only taken
to make “the hurt go away”.

Now they’re taken to make me go away.

The days where Root Beer was the only
“alcohol” I drank.

Now I drink shots of hopelessness
in small glasses of heartbreak

The days where the only kisses I asked for
were before I drifted off to sleep.

Now I beg for kisses in midnight hours
where the only love I receive is the kind
where the sheets are terrorized.

The days where candied cigarettes were my
way of being an adult.

Now cigarettes are the way of keeping
me sane.

“Look, mommy, look. I’ve grew
an inch!”

Now I’m growing without you.

Gone are the days where I felt your kisses
planted upon wet cheeks,
The days where I beg for your love, mommy.

I beg for love in the form of moaning,
bed springs creaking;
where sweat caked into my pores.

The days where my life meant something to
someone.

If I died now, who would cry for me?

The days where happiness grew on trees,
and you showed me how to grasp them with
dirt-covered palms.

Look, mommy. I’ve grew an inch.

An inch closer to the bullet
awaiting in it’s home.

-DDF

— The End —