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Macy Opsima Jun 2016
i guess i should write
about the trees and the skies
but then theres your eyes
Macy Opsima Jun 2016
oh darling
i have something to tell you
i met this boy once,
his name was blue.

blue had the face of a man
michelangelo would paint.
he told me he loves art and
that is why he loves me.

my hair was a tangled mess
yet he liked the chaos it holds.
he liked the chaos so much,
he went to the middle of one.

blue went to my house the night
they shaved his hair
i whispered sounds of sorrow
as they took him away.

oh my darling,
why'd you hit that wall?
you know that i love you, blue
why did you suddenly growl?

i watched as you hung your head
i look at your face
and it feels like the way it was
before you went away

i stared at the blank canvas
that is all above us
oh darling i have something to tell you
your face lit with solid confusion

oh darling
i have something to tell you
i met this boy once
his name was blue.
Macy Opsima Jun 2016
There was a boy beside the river and he smelled like poetry.* His lips watered the flowers in my tongue and soon grew infused with words and metaphors. His touch delivered a tidal wave of poetic shock that awakened my dull veins. But one night, he had his arms around me but somehow I still felt cold. And my lungs are suffocating with toxic that he hid behind his artistic mask. When he was mine he drowned me in poetry. When I was his he drowned me in salt water.  My spirit is lurking in the riverbank where I first met him. There was me, above the water, my poetic veins contaminated by salt waterthat aggravates the wounds inside of me. He was sitting there by a stone, smelling like poetry, looking for his next victim.
Macy Opsima Jun 2016
They told me your first love
will always haunt you and the were right.
You bang on yhe doors of my heart
every minute of every night.

They told me first love will always
be the most special and they were right.
You are still the blood that rush through my veins.

They told me first love will never die
and that's where they were wrong.
Because why am I still in love with a ghost?
Macy Opsima Jun 2016
one day the world will forget your name
but the temple that is made for you
will still linger 6 feet underneath and finally,
you will become an artifact
like those ruins you came to know and love
and until then,
i will love you like the moon above.
Macy Opsima May 2016
i can hear the misery
of the poets, artists, and kings
of the ages we wasn't born in,
screaming in agony
as they never had the chance
to love,
to encounter,
to witness,
to paint,
to write about,
the finest masterpiece
that is you,
my biggest dream,
my dead star wish,
you are the poison that intoxicates
my veins and i couldn't ask
for anything more.

•••

i have always told myself
not to fall in love with the moment,
moments will fade away
they will burn at the back of my head
but i saw him standing there
with his palm out
for me and only me
as the love-infused music about
fools falling in love
flowed flawlessly around us
that's where i did it.
i fell in love with not only the moment,
i fell in love with the flowers in his mouth
i fell in love with him.
Macy Opsima May 2016
i want to be your sun
the reminder that all of those demons are gone
i want to be the one
who you yearn to see at midnight
i want you to grasp my wrist at dusk
pleading me to never leave at twilight
no, i dont want to be your moon
i dont need a ball of fire behind me to shine,
no, i dont want to be your stars
there is only one me that you should find
i am more than a silhouette of something shallow,
i am not that broken to scatter all around your black treacle
but i want to be your constant dose of relief
those demons behind your face will vanish because of me
yet you always seek for those **** little twinkling dots
because there is more of them
but i am also one of them, why can't you see?
it's probably because your eyes burn when you look at me.
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