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 Mar 2019 Patricia Policarpio
Hg
wri
ting is
threading
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
secrets
you'll
get
po
ke
d
a
l
i
t
t
l
e
.
©Hg
 Feb 2018 Patricia Policarpio
df
i’m trying to be positive,
to see the light at the end
of the tunnel.
to believe that the best is yet
to come.

except i must not be trying hard
enough, because the darkness
always creeps in.

it finds a way.

no matter how bright the sun shines
or how blue the sky is,
my word is gray.

and i know no other way.

{d.f. | 1/11/18}
instagram.com/inafieldofchaos
On Sunday,
I drove to your house.
We sat in your bed,
And you kept asking me if I missed you over the weekend.
You asked me twice without even noticing.
I haven't talked to you since.
You see,
I want you to miss me this time.
I want you to check your phone every five minutes to see if I've called..texted.. sent a carrier pigeon.
You see,
I want to feel wanted.
Is that too much to ask?
You've been up walking holes in your shoes and I am unsure why.
I sometimes feel like I don't know how to speak to you.
I sometimes feel like I struggle to find the right words to say.
I hate that.
You just posted a photo on  your story.
You don't even notice that I have ignored your text.
You never said that you loved me today.
I feel like everything is so forced.
So I will allow myself to give you this space.
Sometimes, it pains me.
I've been spending a lot of time alone lately.
The beginning of the weeks seem to be hard for me.
Today, it's pouring.
And right now, I wish I was home.
In the comfort of my father's arms.
I've come to a realization that he is the only person that would never hurt me.
you will never be forgotten.
ever.
your name twisted into metaphors and colors and distractions will forever
be painted across pages and pages of her favorite brand of notebook,
no matter how many she burns
there will always be one she forgot,
and she will only find it once she had almost forgotten you.
she will find the one Papyrus notebook
and all of your metaphors and colors and disractions will come flooding back,
just like how the ocean in your eyes
flooded her heart all those years ago.
It's not a thousand miles you should be afraid of,
It's easier to walk those than a mile away from love.
No matter how bad it hurts to stay
it always feels like the best choice on the scale of preference...
Love is the longest distance you'll ever walk,
sometimes even without barging an inch.
You know those talented Poets,
the ones that perform vanishing acts
Just like a ghost

Wonder why those poets
up and left HP?
Did they find a place better?
Did they find a place more
lovely?

Perhaps they lost their muse,
their pen, their flow
Or perhaps they await for spring
when beautiful things begin
to grow

Well anyway, I just wish to say
I miss those talented poets
Whose every word turns into
glittering gold
Some very talented poets are missing
I wish not,
to write anything,
about love that is
metaphorically
related to Christmas.

how can we forget
that Christmas is
the day where we
rejoice for the Son
and not for the
Sun of your life.

how can we forget
that Christmas is
about giving
your heart to God,
and not giving it
to someone who
might break it.

Alright,
let's get real.

Christmas,
there's nothing
greater than celebrating
the one and only Him,
with words and verses,
written for no one,
but Him.
Jokes aside, Merry Christmas - religious or not! Let's all remember the true meaning of Christmas. :)
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