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Mar 27 · 134
realization
Why do people overthink a lot during midnight? —Everything hits different at midnight.

To answer that, Yes.
If I am one to overthink during midnight,
I tend to ask myself with what ifs and whys...

What if this is not the right path for me to take?
What if I am not pretty enough for him?
What if he will fell out of love from me?
What if I am not enough for him?
What if he was waiting for someone to arrive?
But at first, I was the was the easy one so that made him stay.
Why was I feeling like I am never going to be good enough for him?
Why is he like that?

I tend to overthink a lot before,
I slept late and woke up early.
Yes, I still exist up until today.
Yes, I am still alive and breathing until today.
But not anymore.

That old habit of mine died,
the day I met my partner.
All of my whys and what ifs were already answered now.

Because he gave me a lot reassurances that I am enough for him alone.
And that is much better.
Mar 26 · 58
Untitled
I look at myself for how I reacted harshly before—
Realizing it took my energy a lot, for many times now;
So, I decided to choose the situations that I should be reacting at—
If it is not worth my time nor strength,
Then, there is nothing to be reacting about now.
Since, it is draining me.
And yet, when you react to the wrongs done to you,
They’re the ones who get angry.
Mar 26 · 95
truth be told
At exactly three AM of VI/X/XXXV— it was a decision I made that changed my life. A rash decision based on what I wanted to feel at that time.

This was the hardest story I could ever tell the world—about what really happened to me. It was an awareness, that we have to be very careful who we chose to welcome in our life.

Everyone can be our friend—male or female, regardless of what gender. But some men, though I do not overgeneralize the fact, that my perpetrator is a male. A xxv-year old male, never attractive or my type—but he was a corrupting minor.

I was only XV at that time, maybe what made me drawn to him, was how he saw me regardless of how invisible I was in the eyes of others. I love the attention he gave me. The time he spend with me. But I was not his and he was not mine as well.

For some, it was an eye-opener but for some it was grief.
That nightmare I experienced, I hope it was only a dream that when you wake up it was no longer there;
But, that was not the case, at all.

He left me a scar that took me forever to heal, a trauma I cannot get rid of. I struggle to trust people's intentions. I judge people easily when someone wants to come into my life. I questioned God from before, I even questioned my identity.

Will someone love me or accept me? I felt so ***** at that time. Everytime I look at myself in the mirror, I look like I was too transparent for everyone to see when they look at me.

When someone talks behind my back, I became anxious.
My therapist diagnosed me of having Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PSTD) because even in my dreams, he visited me.

To the old me, back in XXXXXV—I am sorry that I caused you too much pain. You struggled on your own. You became home-schooled, faced the challenges on your own, sent away by your parents for a rehab, you learned how to become an independent person. You found your way through Poetry, you opened your old wounds for people to look at, not being judged.

To the young and naive you, thank you for being brave. For facing your problems on your own. Thank you for molding me into what I am today. I hope your inner child is healed already, because you were forced that at such a young age, your mother believed that "Maturity comes with age" but you realized that "Maturity depends on the kind of experience you had."

To the new me, you can smile and laugh now, for you have been freed—not by kindness, but by years of forgiveness and repentance. Let go of things that we cannot control or hold dear of. Life is always like that, very unpredictable and chaotic—but it is very pleasing to live a good life despite of its chaotic measures.

---_yndn.
Mar 26 · 166
free
I have been breaking bad right now,
Bend it over on me, for me.
Lean over, closer—
Your lips tasted like champagne.

Got a fever for this feeling I need to savor,
Salty whitish fluids keep wanting me more.
Dreams of getting intoxicated in the haze,
Feeling too anxious to pop pills, Getting lazy over ecstasy.

Mind flying in the daylight,
***** up my emotions.
***** and whisky over this ******-up life
Smoke ****, inhales pulverized ******* after s*x
Overdosed love, you say, but

If this poem is a free verse,
Can I have my life back without being under the influence?
I just wanna start over, start a new life.

Midnight hits different, when hitting you from behind.
Scream for me, will you?
No matter what pain it is,
It pleasures me within.

I just wanna overdose in pleasure and lust,
Not in some kind of drugs
Not in some kind of intoxicated smokes
I just wanna be drunk in love, not in alcoholic drinks.

When pain is traded for pleasure,
Just know that I will always be here for you.
I believe what we had is real, I know it
When pain already weighs pleasure now,
I beg you—don't stop, continue until you pass out
Mar 25 · 96
gone girl
Am I really unfolding myself into the hands of my enemy—as if I was sealing my fate?

That is what you thought. Scratch it because it is wrong.

Said he, "Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who is the wokest of them all"

But I prefer to tell it by suspense. It is what is, honey.

You cannot escape death, truth or worse, me.

You may run anywhere in the world, I won't chase you; you may hide, change identity or much better, **** yourself— but your conscience and guilt will do its favor for me to hunt you down, and come crawling back to me, pleading for forgiveness, on your knees.

I might just want to **** you in one blow, nuh uh. I won't play that game that way.

Karma is doing its job right now, payback time for the pain you caused me.

I am hands free, washed my hands and raised it for everyone to see, for I am not everyone's accomplice.

Be not like Judas Iscariot, my dear;
Selling me to your mother, with your cooked and made-up stories
But I will be like Peter, that even I denied God, he still understood me.
Just like the moon, we are both comparable as imperfect—like its phases. Amidst that, you have loved me beyond my imperfections.
Mar 24 · 199
sinner
You call my name, I come to you in pieces,  
So you can make me whole.  

With your love, no doubts,  
I am renewed and accepted once again—  
Forgiven, even better.
Mar 24 · 65
LEPT.
I survived the battle,  
but this was no ordinary war.  
A battle of wits—  
with questions sharp as bullets,  
fired straight at me.

Yesterday was my breaking point,  
faced with choices I had to justify.  
Weighing each option, reasoning every path—  
I can only hope I chose the right one.

Crying was the last thing on my mind.  
I faced this battle with bullets of doubt ricocheting in my head,  
but I stood my ground,  
answering exactly as I intended.
God removes the bad people in your life because they heard things about you that you never will, and He’s protecting you from their hidden intentions.
Mar 21 · 99
cold
No revenge, just poetry.
Play fair or lose everything.
Choose the right cards to fold or raise;
choose the right piece to move, or else checkmate.
Choose the battles you prefer to win—do not outwit me.
You don't have to send your army of evil just to make me change my ways. Nah.

I prefer my words like ice—
my tongue, a blade honed to perfection.
My presence shatters like broken mirrors,
leaving only jagged reflections behind.
And when my eyes meet yours,
they do not waver—only burn with disgust.

Even if you thought you already won—nah, I am just warming up.
If you thought I was scared just because I didn’t overreact, you assume too much.
Looks can ****—take note.
What kills you most isn’t how I look at you,
but the way it itches you to see me not give a f*ck.
Mar 21 · 88
luv
luv
ilysm, imysm;
I know you know that, I hope you won't forget that
yatoofm, moaol
(you are the only one for me, my one and only love)
you are my 13, my everything
my peace amidst all chaos, my best friend, partner, lover embodied in one
Icwtmy, Iwhyln
(I can't wait to marry you, I wanna have your last name)
No matter how long it takes
Mar 21 · 85
jdgmnt.
Why does everyone avert their gaze the moment our eyes meet? Do they sense something lurking within me—an inner demon, perhaps? Or is it that, in facing me, they realize I am neither saint nor devil, but something else entirely?  

I am a soul reborn, a human renewed. I turned away from deception, abandoned falsehoods, and embraced the truth. And maybe—just maybe—that priest saw it too.  

Did he sense a demon in our midst? Or was he standing before something far greater? He never flinched, never dodged our silent battle of wills. Perhaps, in my presence, he saw not darkness, but light so blinding it threatened to consume him—so brilliant it exposed the shadows within his own soul, leaving him unable to tolerate me at all.

Perhaps he forgot—forgot that I am, indeed, a being of duality. Light and dark, saint and sinner, fire and ice. But the difference between us?  

I chose the good side. 
Or maybe because when light enters a dark place, it forces a reaction. That explains it. When you look my way, I never hesitated for a second to look at you, straight into your eyes, looking for a loophole into your salvation or groundbreaking, then I smirk and you look away.
 
Why flinch? Why avoid my stares? Satan is among us, but it is not me you're looking at, maybe because he was what you were looking for, you heretic buffoon!

And maybe that’s what unsettled him. Not the presence of a demon, nor the radiance of divinity, but the sheer reality that I stand at the crossroads of both—aware, awake, and unwilling to be swallowed by the darkness he hides within himself.

You were so quick to judge last night,  
singling me out from the crowd,  
asking about my boyfriend’s faith—  
as if his beliefs could seal my fate.  

I said, "No, he’s not Catholic."  
And without a second thought,  
you declared my life in danger.  

So swift was your verdict,  
yet you never even asked what he believes.  
Tell me—are you certain I’m the one at risk?  
Or have you simply met your match?
When light enters a dark place, it forces a reaction.
Mar 20 · 94
questions...
You thought by breaking me, heals you—no, it can't be.
Because when you thought it healed you, no. It will haunt you, linger in the depths of your soul, that it is never a right decision to hurt anyone.

Did it gave you enough peace? An ease in your mind? I hope so.

Did it gave you an ample time to sleep so soundly at night? Kinda.

Did your guilt and conscience lets you eat, sleep or work quietly without disturbing you? Perhaps.

Only these questions I asked are for you to answer—time will tell when, when it forbids or not.

Karma will only decide when, and so as your fate as well
So have faith, even when my hope is already quite fainting.
Mar 20 · 85
rot
rot
They say you're meticulous about cleanliness—whether it's your body, your house, and so on—but don’t forget to scrub your personality too—it’s starting to smell.

But no matter how much perfume you wear or how often you brush your teeth, the filth of your character still stinks.


the shortest the poem is, the longest it stings or what?
worse, you stink!
Mar 19 · 247
🙏
March has been so tough towards me—but still, I made my way out alive, because I know God is with me and He will never make me feel or experience sufferings if I cannot handle it
Mar 19 · 102
trauma.
I hope my karma for you—is when you meet someone and he will slap you in the face for that same trauma and hurt you made me feel and experience
Mar 19 · 86
mrjykh
What pushed you to do it?—trading our imperfectly perfect family to your comfortable life there
Alright, It will be alright
I just wanted to redeem my peace of mind back
But you keep pulling my last strings

I didn't mean to curse you or have my hopes high
I still prayed for you—to see the brighter side
Since it is always greener on the other side
We don't need to be bitter with anything that's been going on here

I never stole anything—just like how you accused me
Maybe your mind was too shallow—too in deep to not understand that there is a huge difference with the unbiased, baseless information and a research-based with proofed information

I thought you were a liberal arts graduate, but your mind was never too liberal
You messed with the wrong gal, pal
But I might just let it slide for now
Because I just want to be a good girl for now—but not for long, mate
Even my kindness has an expiration
So, for now, I would just tolerate your ****

But bad move, you reacted in such a bitter way immaturely
When you made a stupid decision in your life, we helped you
I know, we know, help is never a two-way beneficial process
But when we made a stupid decision, you reacted in a rash and harsh way

Guess who is a rabid dog now
I chose my battles wisely—I react when I want to, but this, is never a wise decision to agree with in the first place

When you and your narcissistic husband fought like cats and dogs—he threw away your things out in the streets
You dialed my mother's number and called her, asking for help
My mom helped you process tour documents, just so you could be with your American boyfriend when your annulment was approved

Now, you look at us like we were so capable of ruining your life, of wrecking havoc to your belongings
We would not do such a thing to you—but you hurt my mother's feelings, you know
I hope you would find it in your heart, one day
My mother is imperfect, but what you said harsh towards her, might leave a scar for us not to trust you once again

I am praying earnestly that, one day will come
when you will be deported or if your American husband will die
or if you want to come home here in the Philippines

While your son was no longer there for you, since he only used and manipulated you
We were there before, but we can no longer promise to be by your side once again

Like I said, you cannot find trust in the same person twice.
Mar 18 · 94
:)
:)
I said it before, but now, I'll only say it once  
So you better listen carefully to me  

Stop, whatever the hell you are doing right now  
Aren't you feeling a bit of shame or plaint towards us?  
Are you really that indecisive to cause too much drama?  
I get it, you love the thrill, the drama, the attention- name it  
You love it when other people invest their time in your nonsense  

At this point, I don’t even know what to call you—disreputable, notorious, shameless, or just a meek scandalous mess, desperately clinging to drama like it’s the only thing giving you purpose.  

But here’s the thing—your act? It’s tired, predictable, and frankly, not worth anyone’s time anymore.  

So, if you’re waiting for us to keep playing along—don’t. We’re done.  

And one more thing—  

You can twist the story, paint yourself as the victim, and spin lies until you’re breathless. But the truth? It always finds a way out. And when it does, don’t expect anyone to stick around and clean up the mess you’ve made.  

We’ve given you more patience than you deserve—consider this our final courtesy.  

So go ahead, stir the *** if it makes you feel important. But don’t mistake our silence for weakness. We’re not biting anymore.  

And when the dust settles?  

Don’t come crawling back, acting like you’re innocent—like you didn’t burn every bridge on your way down. We see you for what you are now—a chaos addict, feeding off the drama because, without it, what else do you have?  

But here’s the truth you can’t outrun: Eventually, even the loudest noise fades. And when your little spectacle loses its audience, you’ll be left with nothing but the wreckage you caused.  

So keep playing your games if it makes you feel alive. Just know—this is where we walk away.

And when that silence finally hits you—when there’s no one left to react, no one left to care—you’ll realize something.  

All the lies, the manipulation, the chaos you stirred? It wasn’t power. It wasn’t control. It was desperation—a pathetic attempt to matter in a world that’s already moved on without you.  

Because here’s the part you never understood—real strength doesn’t need an audience. And while you were busy performing, we outgrew the show.  

So enjoy the spotlight while it lasts. But when it fades—and it will—don’t expect to find us waiting in the wings.  

We’ve already left the theater.

The curtains are closed. The lights are out. And guess what? The popcorn’s gone too—because no one’s sticking around for an encore.

Your little spectacle? It’s over. No standing ovation. No applause. Just an empty stage and the echo of everything you ruined trying to play the lead.

So, take your final bow—if that’s what you need. But don’t mistake this for a break between acts.

The show's done. And we’ve left the building.
Mar 17 · 134
God
God
Praise the one who set me free—from everything that cages and shackles me.
It is God, who loved me and crowned me with flowers despite his crown of thorns
unlimited talks, adding or subtracting words

ooh, do you know what you are
what I saw in you
You felt like the cockroach of the sea—oh no!
You are the cockroach of the land—black, white or brown
I might be ready to squish or stomp you up, but still, whatever I do, it still keeps you alive, awake, kicking and enthusiastic

But truly sweetie, what defines you? A disgrace to the community—and that mouth of yours is a disgrace to my family as well

Let's save these dramas for ourselves now, shall we?
The worst is yet to come
I'm not done yet, the show is not yet over
I'm just warming up, I might go over next for the exciting part

You made me hate you—despite that, I pity you!
For all the cries and the untold stories
I pity you, not for your experience—but for how pathetic you are to gain or earn my trust
I helped you, listened to your pleas
But this is all you gave me in return

Your presence, existence—is nothing but a social scourge
An epidemic, an illness, a pest, an addiction, that even any medicine to cure cannot prevent it
There is no such thing as a remedy for an incurable disease like yours—An addiction you bring is never tolerated

That even your efforts and intentions are even questionable
Maybe you were a broken record—repeating lies and spitting spew into me
Well, I breathe in and out the fire of the level of your innocence

Well *****, don't look down, I am not there
Look up, heads up now, front and center
Look into my eyes, let me see your sincerity

Maybe you forgot, even if you keep denying it
The truth is always there, ready to be found when I am effortlessly not looking for it

Let's establish some rules, yes
For this staring game, I am all in
Lay all the cards on me, deck it now and let me tell you your future
Time will tell, yes, along with it, comes your fate
A shadowy figure, holds its scythe and wears a black hoodie while its hood is covering its face is now pointing you
It says to be a grim reaper, your time is up, old lady
Pity or not, you will experience an awful hell of a death

But, I don't want to scare you or burst your bubble
God sees the truth, but waits because He knows when to attack

I keep silent, revenge is for Him to do and not mine
I might forgive you, for my peace of mind
I might forget you, I hope so
But never what you did to me

It caused me hurt and pain, wounded scars of my unforgettable battles never won
It caused me trauma—got mistaken for something I never did

Labelled me as a thief, what else can you give me? Is that all?
Give me your best shot—bang me with the problems and issues you cannot handle well
Well, I handled worse

Reveal to me the ***** linens of my past—I am no longer afraid
God knows me well, dear—but you don't
God knows me and my whole life well—you just saw my life in highlights,  reels and teasers but never my whole story
I got used to it by now, I dealt with things on my own
Faced my demons and ***** on my own
Is there anything I cannot handle well? Even If I look at myself in the mirror, I saw my brave reflection who is now courageous enough to face the imperfect world

Oh pity! How about you? Your experience is much more pitiful than mine
So, you keep exposing my ***** linens, well, don't worry about it, let me expose yours too
Too sad, you married a narcissistic man, you are such a weakling when both of you ran into an argument
But oh boy, you loved the thrill when we have a feud, right?
You had an introvert ******-up son with his ****** girlfriend with mommy issues
A social climber, a leech to **** off your wealth
Oops, you are not even wealthy, right? Your American husband is only the one  supporting your ******* in life, right?
Don't make me push the buttons too much to expose your *****
So that you can still redeem your head, when you walk to town.
Your opinions of me are invalid, only God's criticisms are valid

I chose to walk away, white flag is waving now
But honey, I learned—to choose my battles and you are not one of it
Never worth it.
Mar 17 · 64
mouse trap
It was fun—celebrate it while it lasts.
Savor the moment, hold it tight.
Because once the final grain of sand falls from the hourglass, it’s my turn.

You can run, you can hide—
But I’ll find you.

You might **** me, strike me with a baseball bat,
Bury me alive, pull the trigger if you dare.
Drown me in a tub, hang me from a tree,
Burn me alive, stab me, stake me—
I might die, but my conscience won’t.
I might fall, but karma never loses.

Let me share my timetable—my plans, my desires.
You can go against me—I don’t care.
Bury our friendship, but first, do me a favor—
Help me find my concern.
It’s missing—maybe it ran off,
Or maybe it’s hiding because, honestly,
It doesn’t give a **** about you.

But hey, don’t be too bitter—
Even a bitter gourd might taste sweet,
Because you’ve already stolen its place.

So when this poem finds you—good.
I’m the writer. You’re just the reader.
And here’s the truth—
You can’t rewrite my words,
But I can insult you all I want.
Mar 17 · 86
👀
For your information, my eyes were never sweet to look at.
You might get scared, so don’t you dare look at me like that.

Oh, my dear, sad black eyes—
They can light up the moment I see you again.
But don’t expect an apology when these sweet, innocent eyes
Shift into the fierce gaze of an eagle.
Mar 17 · 71
👌👌👌
Calling the attention of the people who ruined me—face yourself in the mirror, fitted for Hell.
You, who ruined my peace—Let us wait for the right time, in God's will and right timing;
While, as I waited, I sat on my couch, sipping a coffee or smoothie, when the tables turned, for you to experience the same pain and trauma you did and put me through.
When you come back crawling to me, I will make sure to burn the bridges, for you to never cross once again.
I will make sure that when I blink— only once, not twice, and look you in your **** eyes
I will make you sweat coldly, as you run out of breath and make you feel like a deer in the headlights.
Fear me for I growl and it makes you shiver and flinch.
Mar 17 · 62
📝📝📝
Maybe E.A. Poe is my idol—Or rather a favorite Because I get my inspiration from him.
Oh well, Annabel Lee, My aunt is no Annabel Lee.
We neither have to experience The Fall of the House of Usher,
Nor wander in the shadows of The Raven's lore.
There’s no Tell-Tale Heart beneath my floor
Nor do we tremble at The Masque of the Red Death's door.
We shan't endure The Pit and the Pendulum's sway,
Or face The Black Cat's ominous gaze.
The horrors of The Cask of Amontillado are far from view
As are the riddles of The Murders in the Rue Morgue, too.
"Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Mar 17 · 68
🤭🤭🤭
Your son will be the death of you— remember that, remember that
Oh wait, I forgot
Because when you literally walk around town
You do not have a brain in your head

Clueless as **** now, are we?
You keep telling people **** about us
When you feel so clean and pure

How hypocrite! All of them know what the truth is now
Stop blaming us for the ******-up life of your son
Clean your own mess, stop letting us clean your own mess

As for your son, directors and scriptwriters would be so proud of him
For creating such a ******* brilliant masterpiece
He could be featured in one of the news, or write stories for films
I could cry while I applaud for him— crocodile tears and flowery words won't work on me this time
He could prepare a speech, I'd prepare for a eulogy for him
He could receive a bouquet from one of his fans, I could give him a funeral wreath, saying "Condolence to the bereaved family"
Because I'd love to see you in your deathbed, covered in blood, stabbed in different parts of your body
One million—not a pocket money or a spot cash but rather, stabbed wounds
Slitted throat, fractured bones;
Sawed limbs and gouged eyes.

I dreamed of it, to be this gothic
And you, my dear, is my main prospect
But I ain't the suspect or the mastermind
I am the victim, for this ******* of yours

Time will come, your first hurrah and laughs, will be my last hurrah and laughs.
Mark my words, be careful with your life
Because one day, you might not wake up alive next day.
Mar 16 · 81
_yndn.
Pray tell, pretentious beast—***** rather.  
Why do you keep bothering me?  
Stop that sht, will you? Or else I'll be the one to put you in your place.  

You slither in shadows, whispering poison,  
masking your malice with sugar-laced lies.  
But I see you—oh, I *see
you,  
a wolf in stolen silk, parading as a queen.  

Keep pushing, and I’ll carve the truth into your façade,  
rip that porcelain mask off your two-faced smile.  
Shall we see what’s beneath?  
A coward? A fraud?  
Or just another desperate soul feeding on borrowed pride?  

Your theatrics bore me—  
a puppet with tangled strings,  
dancing to the tune of your own hypocrisy.  
One more step, and I’ll cut them for you.
Mar 16 · 67
Karen
Even red roses withered and turns to black when dried
Even candles run out of wick
Even people run out of steps to walk on
But you never run out of emotions—angry of petty reasons
Making a big deal out of it
I am so tired from all of this drama
I never even signed up for this
I never even subscribed on it
But why does it keep messing up with me?
Shut the **** up. But nah. You never listen to me anyway.
So, thank you for this opportunity you gave me, and let me label you as the Karen of our family.
Mar 16 · 75
🤡🤡🤡
Do you know that?
I made fun of you
You're no comedy, you're just you
Goofy but trying hard, copycat
Too desperate to try
You're that clown, not from a circus town
But instead, I visualize you as the clown with the red balloon named Pennywise from Derry, Maine
You are such a stupid person to make fun of
Yeah, you deserve it
You are still funny, even if you never try
You're a classic *****
Mar 16 · 63
Bruha
Snakes... are poisonous, venomous, treacherous
Some says, they were kind, behind their scaly skins, they eat you alive
Do you like what you see? You slender your way up high, crawl your enemies closer to the ground
Sharp eyes, silver tongue
Behind that beauty is a betrayal
Oh, cover your face
Mask the pain, the joys and the sorrows
Side-eyed, waiting for its turn to bite me off
Pretty little white lies, a smirk and a backstab
Defines your anomalous act
Hypocritical, hypothetical, synthetic, plastic identity, dignity, personality, you—it fits you.
Mar 16 · 399
🐍🎭🤡
Be careful what you wish for— you just wanted me dead
A price on the eyes, a bounty cash for the meek

You gave me lies, I gave deception in return
You gave fire, I burn you in return

Be careful what you act now— for actions speak louder than words.

You're like a hunter, observing my every move
I'm like the prey, waiting to be devoured
You're wrong, honey
I ain't the prey, I am the predator

You barked on the wrong tree
You keep beating around the bush now

Enough is enough, you gave me hurt
I'll give you the taste of your own medicine in return.

I hope you like what you see
When you envision yourself in a coffin
Or what if you are covered in dirt already
To be found six feet below the ground

Take your pick, play your cards right
If looks can ****, you'd be dead by now
Because in the back of my mind, I thought to myself the different techniques on how I am going to **** you
In the four corners of the room, you can barely make it out alive

What if I cut you open, bleed you dry
Peel your skin off, let me see you suffer
I don't care if I am the ******, because you are the pathetic, desperate *****
How about I stitch up your wound without an anesthesia?
What if you walk on the valley of the shadow of death with no slippers on
And every aisle you walk on feels like a burning coal, flaming hot
And at the end of the road, is an abyss waiting for you to fall
Get that **** inside your head now, reflect and meditate on what you did bad to me
You messed with the wrong person, gal

So step back now, while I am still kind
This is not a reminder, darling
This is a warning, not to cross paths with me again.
Mar 16 · 273
yndnmoon
red or white of any color, the moon is still the moon
Regardless of its phase, crescent, half, full or new— it was beyond perfect, still
But beyond perfection, its beauty is breathtaking.
Mar 16 · 116
fckd.
The apple does not fall from its tree— commonly known as him. His mother was the same as him. He denied it, but the actions spoke for itself.

But I prefer, what made him as a story maker— adds and subtracts the information.

To gain sympathy and attention from his mother, he does that.
But my family lost its trust and loyalty towards them.
Mar 16 · 80
wjbsch
I heard a lot of ***** about you— the good and the bad
But did you hear a word from me?
Nah., I don't think so.

When I heard rumors about me, did you even defend me?
Did you even protect my name and my honor, my reputation?
Nah. I hardly ever doubted you would do that.

When your mother talk ***** about you
when your father took advantage of you
When your friends bullied you for your status

You gave them everything, that means risking your life as well
When they started talking gibberish about you
I confronted them, brought back the past for the good things you did
There was no such thing as bro code
you told me, "you are all they have"
but how about me in the long run?
I was always there for you, in your darkest times
I was there for you in your darkest nights
But I wonder where were you?

Defense mechanism is ******* for what you did to me
When the world turned its back around you, I was there
When no one else was there
But now, this is how you are gonna pay me?
I just returned the favor, bruh
I wished you well, not in heaven, not on Earth, not in purgatory whether it ceases to exist, but nah
I wished you in hell.

What you repaid me is shame and horror to my reputation
Oh shameless and audacity!
It was never yours to begin with
But you made me do it— you made me do it
You pushed the buttons, you pull the lever to make me feel this high to come pick you up
And fall you down to the ground
Piece by piece, little by little
From cracks to crumble, you are
Just an average egoistic, self-centered immature guy
Asking from affection and attention from his chaotic-minded mother
And alcoholic-narcissistic father, with a squammy frog-looking sidechick, daily hobby
With a ****** up family tree

I defended you, denied what you did, tolerated your ***** and said to them you are not the type to do that.
But I was wrong, I was wrong, indeed

I got kind, yet you abused me
Treated you like king, yet you only saw me as your servant
I was never yours to begin with, you only paid me for my service
Not for my dignity
I only sold my skills and time to you
Not my whole soul
When other people talk back a lot about you

I did not clap back, instead I was in the front row, front seat
Raised my hands and applaud for you
Supported you along the way
But all of it was a scam, a facade
A trap, a rabbit hole I fell into
An abyss, a pit, Tartarus, more worse than I came from
It was darkness, but I glowed, I crawled my way up to the top
Yet, you kicked me out of the light once again
There were a lot of one-sided *******, biases and fake news spreading everywhere
They believed everything even when it is fake
Truth is nothing when fake is what they believed in

They said, Revenge was never yours to begin with
Revenge was never yours to continue nor to end
An eye for an eye, brother
A tooth for a tooth
And a head for a head
You focused on the speck on my eyes, but you never realized you had a speck in your own eye too
Revenge is only for The Almighty
Mar 14 · 158
fckbddy
I love the way you torture me—
Told you before, I never moan this loud.
But with you?
I can't keep my hands to myself,
Can't shut the **** up.
You love it when I lose control,
When our bodies move—loud as applause.
You left me wanting for more—Don't make me beg, please
I know you want it too.
Mar 14 · 91
guilty pleasure
He calls it ***—a fleeting game,
A fire to feed, a hunger to claim.
A touch, a thrill, a moment to take—
Never mind the hearts that break.

She calls it ****—a stolen breath,
A shadow that lingers, a living death.
No warmth, no want, just tears that sting—
A cage of silence, a broken wing.

He says, “I wanted, so I took,”
Blind to the tremble, the hollow look.
She says, “I begged, I cried, I fought,”
But her pain is the part the world forgot.

Two words—worlds apart—
One with power, one with a shattered heart.
But truth does not bend to a careless name—
Forced is forced. The ache stays the same.

So call it ***—if consent is free,
If every “yes” flows willingly.
But when power steals and bodies break,
Let’s call it what it is—no mistake.

Not ***. Not love. Only pain.
A wound that words cannot explain.

There was once I thought
A mess like this
Could never be cleaned with a broom—
That the scars left behind
Were stains too deep
For any hand to undo.

But I was wrong.

Justice does not live
In marble halls alone,
Nor wear the weight of a judge’s tone.
It rises—unyielding—
In the hands that hold,
In voices that speak
When the world grows cold.

Not only in verdicts,
Not only in laws—
But in the strength of women
Who fight for a cause.

When one of us falls,
The others will stand—
Lifting her spirit
With a steady hand.

We reclaim our power
In the truths we share,
In every act of love,
In how we care.

Justice is not just won in a fight—
It blooms in the dark
When we turn on the light.

So, no broom may sweep
What’s broken away—
But together, we rise,
Stronger each day.
Based from the movie I watched
Mar 14 · 462
Gorgon
Medusa (noun)
Sometimes the Greek myth gorgon monster, most of the time, I am—
Misunderstood. Unheard. A story twisted by trembling tongues.

They paint me a monster because it’s easier—easier than admitting what they did. Easier than facing the truth: I was not always this.

Once, I was soft—a girl with warmth in her hands and light in her eyes. But the world does not spare the soft. They touched without asking. Took without permission. And when I refused to break, they called me wicked.

I became what they feared. Not by choice—by survival.

Now, I wear my venom like a crown. I speak, and they call it defiance. I exist, and they call it danger.

But still, they watch. Still, they want. Still, they tremble beneath the weight of me.

I am the gaze that stops you mid-step. A warning wrapped in beauty. Venom in velvet.

I do not chase—I turn. I do not beg—I reign. I do not soften—I sharpen.

Once, my eyes turned from sweet to fierce, like an eagle. Once, my voice shifted from jolly to a roar, like a lion. Once, my personality changed from bubbly to gorgon—run for your life, boy, my snake hair will do the rest.

They whisper my name like a curse, but still, they look. Still, they want. Still, they fear.

I am the one they cannot hold, the storm they cannot quiet, the ruin they bring upon themselves.

I was not born to be kind. I was not made to be gentle. I am the consequence—the reckoning.

Stone-hearted? Perhaps. But only because too many tried to touch me with unworthy hands.

Misunderstood? Perhaps. Unheard? Not anymore.

I do not need to be saved. I do not need to be softened. I am the ending they never saw coming—and the beginning they cannot escape.

I am not your muse. I am your myth. Not the victim, but the legend. And when you dare meet my eyes—remember, I never blink first.
Mar 11 · 666
mother knows best
It is always "What will other people think when they see you?" NOT "What would I feel when you said that to me?"
My mother's reputation and image is more important than what I feel
Mar 8 · 139
i dunno what to do
Maybe we’re trying too hard  
to mend what was never meant to be whole,  
forcing ourselves to fix it anyway.  
But am I truly ready to walk away,  
or was the timing never ours to begin with—  
or are we just too torn apart to feel this empty?  

We used to speak with love,  
now every word feels like a war,  
shouted, sharpened, meant to wound.  

Maybe it’s because I changed,  
or was it that I simply fell out of love with you?
Mar 7 · 177
:(
:(
we keep playing these mind games
whether I should stay or not
I am like a bird in a locked cage
shackled feet, strangled neck
covered mouth
toxic traits, manic behavior
split personality
call the hotline, he is severe
worst of all
I run away from the truth
scared of a little truth or dare
I wanna leave but I can't
been keep on making the same mistakes
no character development
no personal growth
the other one leaves, another one stays
but the first one is the guy I loved not the latter
Mar 7 · 85
me
me
Maybe it feels nice, to be a kid again
you stumble and cry
you play and you laugh
but when you get older
you are depressed and anxious
scared and tired.
Mar 7 · 70
whore phase
I drowned myself in anything that numbed the pain—ran from the tears, lost in a haze of smoke, maybe just wasted, maybe high, maybe both.

Shots after shots, strangers’ hands on my waist, empty kisses that tasted like bad decisions.

Talking nonsense in front of everyone, laughing too loud, dancing like I own the night.

Cut my hair, inked my skin—each mark a reminder that I’m still here.

A little more reckless, a little less soft. The rebel is back. The ***** is untamed.

My head throbs from all the crying—oh, mercy me!

Drenched in heartbreak, drowning in sin, I light another cigarette, take another shot, let another stranger trace their fingers on my skin.

Anything to forget. Anything to feel alive.

The pain is a lullaby, and I'm dancing to its rhythm.

The rebel is back. The ***** is unleashed.

You made me hate this city.

You made me hate you—ooh.

Every street feels haunted, every corner reeks of memories I’m trying to burn.

I walk past the places we once called ours, but now they feel foreign, tainted, ruined.

So I drown in the neon lights, let the music swallow me whole, lose myself in the arms of strangers who don’t even know my name.

Anything to forget. Anything to erase you. The rebel is back. The ***** doesn’t care.
Mar 7 · 121
revenge
Revenge is not yours to begin with,
Your pain and emotions are valid
But what you're planning to do is invalid.

Play your cards right.
Mar 7 · 126
life
If life weighs you down
Bring yourself up once again;
Mar 7 · 932
ludicasi
Pull the trigger, let the bullets fly,
or slit thy throat, or neck—
give me peace of mind,
or I'll give you a piece of my mind.

What if a tight rope will be in my neck,
since it fits in me?
Or what if I jump on top of the building?
What if I run away from my life,
run away from everything?

What if silence swallows me, and no one even notices? What if I disappear between breaths, like a ghost mid-sentence?

I wear a smile like a cracked mask, mouth stitched with practiced quiet. They only hear me when I scream. But now even the screaming echoes back empty.

I walk rooms like graveyards— every memory a tombstone with my name. They grieve the version of me they made up, not the one who dragged herself here, blood on her hands, but still breathing.

You ask me why I write like this? Because the pen never flinches. Because it doesn’t try to fix me, or hush me, or tell me to stay strong. It just bleeds with me.

So if I have to shatter— let it be on my own terms. Let my breaking be honest, not a secret shame wrapped in silk.

Because maybe, just maybe, there’s power in not hiding.
Mar 7 · 89
Ghostlucidaudits
I thought it was love—
but it wasn't.
It was poison, seeping into my veins,
an unwretched warning echoing in my soul.

A red flag draped in green,
but I was colorblind,
never saw the signs,
never heard the silent screams.

It lingered, whispered, wrapped around me,
a pill too bitter to swallow.

There was a gun,
hidden atop my father’s cabinet.
I craved pain—but just enough,
a wound to prove the suffering was real.

Because pain is valid.
Because pain is vain.
Mar 6 · 80
mrln
you've been living in my mind, rent-free
been loving you since twenty-twenty two
gave a daily dose of myself
until then, I will be with you
Mar 4 · 72
Maybe it is time
We don't know how to swim, but I'm already sinking deeply.
Maybe I can leave you so that I can also save myself and lift myself from the heaviness I feel, which was never my responsibility to carry anyway.
Mar 4 · 162
infested
Maybe even the walls can hear
Too thick or thin to cave in
You get it, I gave in
But we never know
Life is a mystery
Having you is misery
You know know better
**** up or else I blame you
Mar 3 · 80
🌟🌟🌟
Too bad, I keep falling for a **** boy who doesn't know know better
Too bad, he keeps on coming back to me
I get to roast him whenever I want
Because honey, I am the writer and you are just a content.
Mar 3 · 65
scratch that thought
I know what you are
A poison in my mind
A potion in my soul
A pill on my body
You intoxicate me
You keep messing on my head
Living rent-free
I already buried you deep within
Lust is the only reason why you keep coming back
Asking me for more
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