In a world amongst the untrue, the wrongful, the two-faced; pseudo reality is taunting at humankind insolently.

To have faith, to be hopeful, to believe; only for them to trash and scatter what you've been believing in.

The betrayed, the deceived, the deceitful; carelessly and mercilessly succumbed upon their sins. Arrogantly looming upon all, unknowing and forgetful of those who sang prayers at dawn for them.

The smiles, the tears, the two-faced; o' the mighty entities everyone praised, not even Judas would have the nerve. It's a shame humankind is a fool; easily played and toyed with.

The denial, the anger, the bargaining, the depression, the acceptance; five stages of grief that I learned, only to know that I could never master.

The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. The body is hollow, for the soul is in sorrow.


"don't you worry," he said calmly,
"i'll be alright."

she stared at him in silence while tugging at the blue blazer he was wearing, still looking quite uneasy.

"but people can't seem help but set their gaze on a masterpiece when they see one," she half-whispered, her eyes looking down on the ground—an even more prominent sign of uneasiness.

he smiled, hands touching her face softly,
"do you trust me?"
he said as their eyes and foreheads met.

"i do,"
she said.

"i always do.
it might be hard for us to be separated for four full weeks, but i can't possibly stop trusting you.

i never could,
i never would."

he only hummed, then proceeded to plant a speck of his love
on her cheek,
on her forehead,
on her lips,
on her soul.

distance - as much as it extends, as long as it stretches, we'd only grow fonder of each other.
Detha Prastyphylia Nov 2016

Would you gently caress the tiniest dent?
Would you carefully examine even the most invisible scar?

Would you tell the demons inside of my head to stop being so loud?
Would you make the voices disappear?

Would you hold my hands to stop me from pulling my hair so hard?
Would you then pick up the strands of hair that fell apart?

Would you break through the noise of my cries?
Would you still whisper to my ears softly in spite of my screams?

Would you help me to breathe?
Would you then help me to live?

Would you still love me even when I'm utterly broken, to the point of no turning back?
Detha Prastyphylia Nov 2016

i used to be your damon,
you used to be my pythias;
but now we barely talk,
i endlessly wondered why.

not too long after,
i finally found out why.
turned out you find your new damon,
just like that i lost my phytias.

she got everything i'd never have,
and i got nothing to keep you close by.

photos of us remain in each of our instagram account,
only to be buried with your new friendship.

scary thoughts went through my head,
sleepless nights kept me awake for weeks.
am i that easily replaceable?
i said over and over again.

it's too abrupt,
the departure of yours from my life.
i couldn't cope,
losing you hurts more than a million heartbreaks.

i miss you,
but you're long gone.
the old you is no longer,
and i'm only left with a speck of memories.

damon & pythias is from a greek mythology. when pythias was sentenced to be executed, damon took his place to allow pythias to get his affairs in order. when pythias returned in time to save damon, the king was so impressed that he let them both live.
Detha Prastyphylia Jul 2016

you leave yourself on my lips like gentle rain waters the earth, like the soft sighs of the calm, longing sea. be fierce and love me with all the insanity in you.

even though i am fragile,
i will not break in your madness.

i promise you.

a poem made by the love of my life, for me
Detha Prastyphylia Jul 2016

I never knew it was possible for blood to rush to my head rapidly until I got to hold your hands. The moment your skin touched mine, I was burning on the inside. You left a trail of fire with the movement of your fingers, slowly grazing me. I felt like I was in a state of trance when I was with you. At first I thought I was deprived of oxygen, but as I breathed deeply I knew I wasn't, because I still felt lightheaded.

It was you.
It must've been you.

It's been almost four months and it's still you.
Detha Prastyphylia Jun 2016

your very existence is like the oxygen;

you make my insides burn,
yet i just can't seem to have enough of you.

one minute without you and i'm already suffocating;
turning blue and purple,


i can't live without you,
even though you'll be the death of me.
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