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3d · 73
NOW
NOW
i should probably
understand him.
when?
3d · 26
all for "boys"
too much words,
too much noise,
too much worries,
all for "boys."

he got me
to fall really hard,
really low,
high above that
endless and stairless
ground.

he ended up in
my torny arms,
we started up happy,
but, ended with miseries.

she gave everything up,
he said he did too.
she gave him her everything,
he said he did too.

she doesn't know
how to go back to
the old peers
she trashed,
but he knows.

she doesn't know
how to bring herself up,
yet he does.

love's aesthetics
were limitless and
critiques weren't
necessarily true.

love's sheet music
were boundless
yet seemingly mute
when he's not there.

love's l'artiste
were rainbow-filled,
splattered with
non-mundane colors,
but imaginatively
gloomy when's he's lost.

she said,
"isn't it when you're found,
you were lost?
isn't it when you're remembered,
you were forgotten?
isn't it when you've won,
i have lost?
this game we used to play,
this piece we used to make,
this portrait we used to paint,
and this love we used to take.
our love's sickness,
this tell-tale story of ours
that began last summer,
and ended that forever."
4d · 68
a given
she tried to understand,
even if it meant nothing
to that person,
knowing
everything's
a given,
"a...given."

this event severed
her.

this event killed her.
as he began
to once again,
drive her to
insanity,
she began to
crumble,
stumble,
and began to
fall.

she then saw
the shining,
sharpness
of the needle
of a newly bought
spinning wheel.

she mumbled nonsense.

he wasn't there
nor he would be.

he can't be there
nor he could.

he chose not to
nor he thought of so.

the sanity was far,
far from reach,
far from this eternity-
entitled suffering she had.

she was hurt.
nope. she was
mad.

she pressed her finger
towards that waking needle.
t'was pleasurable.
she pressed? nope,
she pushed her arms
towards the warmth
of the sharpness of
that newly bought
spinning wheel.

she dropped.
Jan 18 · 84
i
i
~thought
~was healed,
but then
~wasn't.
Jan 10 · 21
the first.
an entire moment
of silence
which led her towards
the art of perverse
glamour
lead her to bed.

there goes this
loud noise.

she witnessed it
with those two ears.

she heard those
smirks.

she lived her
love for that man.

she gave him
her everything
in return,
she received nothing.

a 2-minute call
wasted her two years,
wasted?
hated?
destroyed?
ruined!

he said
he hates her.
she said so too.
he said
he cant trust
her any longer.
she said so too.
he said she doesnt
understand him.
she said so too.
he said she was
really immature.
she said so too.
he said she never cared.
she said so too.
he said she irritates
him, a lot.
she said so too.

scared and crying
she apologized and
asked to make up,
he said so too.
she asked him
not to leave her,
he said so too.
she said she loved
and she loves him.
he said so too.

she was the first.
Jan 10 · 20
the habit he became
i cant touch the keys
i cant touch the strings
i cant touch literary
i cant touch eevrything
i cant touch them
i cant touch him
who once did,
i cant touch me.

"us"
at first, twas good,
me, him, everyday
is fun-filled,
so thrilling,
those enormous
subjective emotions
which rush from
his spine
to mine.

those vigorous
sweatful and youthful
days were lit,
firey, no trickery and mockery.

he doesnt understand
me before,
but he tries,
he says he'll try
and the he tried.

but now,
"us" came crumbling down,
too loud! too loud!
oh such a frown!

i dont know,
maybe i missed him too much,
not talking,
communicating,
seeing,
and smelling each others
scents and humor.
i feel he s moving,
in a backward and sad motion.
he draws attention,
that most cant do,
he draws companies,
that most cant do,
he is subjected to every crowd,
that most cant do,
even being stupidly being chased
by the homecoming,
that most cant do,
and even I cant do.

he ia far too wise
far too nice,
far too dark
and very apart.

he closed his doors
for my rants,
for my sounds,
for my music
words, and love.

i thought he is the one
and i still believe that
he IS that one person
who can share
these unapealing
sounds at night,
these unsightly
paints of gestures,
these seemingly
truthful facades,
these explicit and
exclusive love.

i wanted to go far,
far from where he belonged.
i wanted to go near,
near to where he resides.

i wanted to tear
this contract,
i believed, has faded.

now,
if i did do it,
what comes next?
sorrow?
this grief i must hold,
this woe i must cease,
this beauty who once
loved me i must leave,

either i disappear
or i will leave
this kind of habit
he became.
Dec 2019 · 187
she had
Oct 2019 · 48
360°
Rhoni Marjonelle Oct 2019
on a wednesday
yet saturday
or whatever-day
he went somewhere
far, too far
he drank somewhere
far, too far
dark, too dark
far, too far.

he needn't have to ask
just tell
but,
why lie?
oh well.

far too evil
yes,
too evil.

wordless,
deaf,
and cold.

she thought
it was a hundred
and eighty degrees turn
but
it was a three hundred
and sixty opposite turn.
Oct 2019 · 92
90°
Rhoni Marjonelle Oct 2019
he did
and
she did
parallel music,
parallel art,
parallel mistakes,
yet perpendicular love.
Oct 2019 · 149
hi!
Jun 2019 · 123
lavender.
Rhoni Marjonelle Jun 2019
it was surreal,
absurd to be
precise.

he was all
that mattered,
since last
september.

he was
everything
as far as she
could remember.

he was all
that was left,
but he was bereft
from her
by him.

his discoloration
painted her rainbows
lavender.
Jun 2019 · 185
she
Rhoni Marjonelle Jun 2019
she
had nothing
to say.
May 2019 · 131
when he did.
Rhoni Marjonelle May 2019
in a cold,
dark room
where no one
else knew,
a little infant
made his way
to deep and
sound
slumber.

the music
played reminded
her
of last summer,
so hot, humid,
not much to
remember.

she faded,
when he did.
Apr 2019 · 51
suaviate
Rhoni Marjonelle Apr 2019
the walls
were white
and cold.

it's time for the
ocean sky to
gyrate its way to
crimson sunset.

she and he
were standing,
gazing at the
clueless crowd.

suddenly,
he began to
move and
touch her
velvet lips,
up & down,
all around.

there they went,
wilder than the
rush of the
screeching cars.

he asked for
her permission
for the stairs to be
less leveled,
less balanced,
surely torrid,
surely sultry.

as they went
with the
stairs not leveled,
lips but velvet
and still tangled,
necks' just clammy,
and their
way's so classy,
she lifted her
right limb
and twist it to
his left part,
she was
insensible.

the second time,
he responded
and grabbed her
right limb
towards his.

the time was too
rapid, too
swift.

he held her tight,
his hands
from her nape,
to her neck,
to her shoulders,
to her back,
down to her
waist
as she awaits
and made her chase
from the levels
of both's
wavering stairs.

everything ends
with a sweet
and light
touch of their
velvet lips.

the flower bloomed
never late,
never doomed.

the flower was
indeed,
hyacinth still,
but something
worth of
a pink carnation.
Apr 2019 · 46
terpsichore.
Rhoni Marjonelle Apr 2019
t'was a moonlit night
when she and he
had a fight.

t'was a blue sunlit
sky
when he and i
met.

t'was a translucent
daylight
where surprising
movements
took place.

at first,
t'was formidable,
daunting, and daring.

she was haunted.

the second time,
t'was sweet,
sweaty,
red,
and tired.

t'was
him and me
under the hidden,
private, and
quiet sun room,
full of kisses,
hugs,
breaths,
temptations,
chaos,
trickery,
and all
terpsichore.
Apr 2019 · 125
foster
Rhoni Marjonelle Apr 2019
the moon sings
with its agonizing
melodies,
carrying burden
of the light from
the sun,
shining from behind.

the moon cries
with the heavens,
still,
the sun right
from behind.

the moon laughs
every metaphor
it gives the sun,
still,
the sun is right
from behind.

the moon
and its sorrow
foster from
such winter,
frail breeze
which chills
the air
that hits the
sun.

and the sun
never saw the
moon,
the moon
never saw the
sun.

but luna
saw it first.

and the star
was never hers.
Apr 2019 · 178
when she wasn't
Rhoni Marjonelle Apr 2019
the dawn was
waving its
morning greetings
at me.

the dusk is
far from sight.

the sunrise was
singing the luna's
song, still.

the morning breeze
had such ambience
with lesser interests.

noontime approaches
and touches
her skin.

the afternoon sunshine
fell to the grounds,
ghastly indeed.

dusk haunted her
down and asked
her to die.

but the evening
moonlight caressed
her softly,
gently,
quietly.

the midnight satellite,
with its relentless
love for the sun,
seem to be too frail,
too feeble, and blind.

but in truth,
he was all
that mattered,
when she wasn't.
Apr 2019 · 53
we were
Rhoni Marjonelle Apr 2019
labeled
together
for a day.

but,
we are
together
from the start,
regardless
of such.
Apr 2019 · 49
less
Rhoni Marjonelle Apr 2019
when it was nothing,
it becomes something
when it was more
it becomes less.

it is an endless,
infinite,
colorless
thread
which connects
your heart
with a stranger's.
Mar 2019 · 51
one centimeter apart.
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
we're only
five centimeters
apart,
yet it feels so
distant
and too
abstract.

we're only
four centimeters
apart,
yet it feels too
unreal, too
surreal.

we're only
three centimeters
apart,
yet it feels too
long to be seen,
felt and heard
for every word
was too soft,
such whispers
were but blisters.

we're only
two centimeters
apart,
feeling every inch
of your hair
tickle my skin.

we're now
one centimeter
apart,
and every beat
of your heart
seemed to match
mine's,
and every breath
you take,
is every exhale
i make.

i love you.
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
from the touch
of velvet from the
side he gave her,
she sat.

then, she was sitting
facing back,
he was sitting
facing front.

the view was
all silent, all nice
and crowded.

the sun facing them,
the noise singing songs
louder than ever.

she glanced,
up and down,
left to right,
and sighed.

the sun kissed his
velvet lips.
tad red she was
and so he is.

they roamed
along the seemingly
empty hallways,
and she closed
her eyes and then
even things out.

there was a flower
that bloomed maybe late
but never.

the flower,
all purple,
all lavender,
hyacinth still.
Mar 2019 · 50
the homecoming
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
she was everything
to me
she was my
eternity,
my endless jewelry.

i loved, cared for her
and cherished her
with all my kindest,
finest manners.

i chased her for
a couple of years,
had her when i'm
in pain and in tears,
hugged her for oxygen
kissed her for love
and owned her for me.

we broke up last spring
i found a new tranquil
person who found me
when i hid myself.

however,
she came back that summer.
the midnight sun's watching
far from behind
but she came back like
everything "was" nothing,
asking for a new treaty,
getting back and back
from the past.

i was pestered,
when she had
the homecoming.
Mar 2019 · 76
once upon a march
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
trees performing
pirouettes,
lights glowing
like stars and embers,
busy feet stumbling
upon the boredom
of pavements,
flickering lights of
airplanes filled the
deep blues of the
pool of clouds
which embraces the
tears of the heavens,
calling out for
the he she can't see.

then,
a sad, sad, sad
glance
was seen
far from a sight.

there he stood
where no one else
could.

there she loses
her ephemeral
self.

in front of the auburn
trees, swaying
with the wind.

she hung herself.
he fell to the ground.
he didn't lose her
she lost him,
once upon a march,
underneath
the wooden arch.
Mar 2019 · 53
needles
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
the sensation
of every needle
puncturing the
fair leather
was more than
pleasure.

it's the way
the threads
drip from
those complexion
down to floor,
what a beautiful
enamor.

it's not to ****
the vessel
we don't own.

it's not to hurt
the one thing
we borrowed.

it's just our
escapade
for the
darkest shade
of happiness.
Mar 2019 · 53
exception
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
suns and crescents
well-spent
and transparent.

everything rotated
with her,
she,
and me.

everything smiled
like it should,
would,
and could.

everything~
except me and
you.
Mar 2019 · 58
the err
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
the spring
was way too
lengthy,
way too
healthy
for both him
and her.

oh, such wonderful
err.

yes,
a mistake,
a beautiful
and melancholic
breaks and takes.

everything transparent
for everything was
nothing,
for everything was
blushing,
so,
everything was
something.
Mar 2019 · 50
102
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
102
this is the
hundredth and
two

a poem about
me and you.

suffering, crying,
and hyperventilating.

from the sound
of the unwanted
truth.

hoping that every
sound, words, and
flickers,
would shine light
to what we had, we have
and we won't have.

and yes
this is the hundredth and
two,
and here i am,
saying
i love you.
Mar 2019 · 43
than a broken love.
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
everything was
foreign
everything was
loudly silent.

those flat lines
made her burst
into tears and
blood.

those tears
like rain
dried from above,
hurt her more
than having
a broken love.
Mar 2019 · 34
well was.
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
the well
was deep
and hollow.

was dry,
harsh, and
no wallows.

was empty,
hard, rough
and tough.

was sad,
bad,
and red.

was uncertain,
unknown,
doubt.

where her voice,
cries and shouts
were rejected and
and full of unimaginable
clouts.
Mar 2019 · 46
the well
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
he shared his book,
she listened to his stories.
he shared his music,
she wrote him notes.
he shared his poems,
she sang him words.

he mentioned the labyrinth
she remembered it all.

yet,
what he's uncertain,
or say, untold,
was that
she had her own
well.
Mar 2019 · 167
of the unknown
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
the day was nice,
she read her
usual reads,
she listened to her
usual music,
she spoke with her
usual someone.

suddenly,
she saw the yellow
sunset
gradually fading,
slowly reaching
and painting
the skies with
deep blue.

no lights,
no shines,
no glimmers
and shimmers,
no flickering eyes
that lighted her night.

there's an endless,
eternal solstice
of the unknown.
Mar 2019 · 79
grayed
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
velvet lips
auburn eyes
curly hair
mysterious glare

from those
raining rays
of sunshine

from the
singing sound
of winding
breeze

she felt his warmth
from across the room
she felt his stride
towards her side
and he
grayed her sight
she felt the
slightest, and most
gentle touch
of velvet.
Mar 2019 · 45
her home
Rhoni Marjonelle Mar 2019
throughout the happiness
that occured
within the surface

throughout the laughter
that she murmured
for you to hear

throughout every advice
she gave
for you to word

throughout every smile
she brought you
for you to be happy

she had an endless
longing for
something

she'd been forlorn
every single time
she steps on the
treshhold
between her house
and her home.
Feb 2019 · 46
n't
Rhoni Marjonelle Feb 2019
n't
i wish i wasn't
i wish you weren't
but.
Feb 2019 · 89
he walks away
Rhoni Marjonelle Feb 2019
as he made his way
towards her
end of the day,
she was all that happy,
looking at his
endless beauty,

his arms intertwined
with hers,
her melody reaching
his chuckles and screams
and cries.

they leave those soaring
individuals,
roaming inside the familiar,
spectacular room.

then they walk
along the busy
pavements,
with sounds of
the pouring rain.

as she steps away
from her light of day,
as the sun sets and
the moon awakens from
its slumber,
she remembers and treasures
every foot step he takes
away from her distance
and slowly, gradually,
she writes a poem,
a letter, a song,
about how she loved
how he walks away.
Jan 2019 · 162
i.
Rhoni Marjonelle Jan 2019
i.
she was breaking
Jan 2019 · 65
you.
Rhoni Marjonelle Jan 2019
there were two
boys sitting, standing
underneath those
auburn trees,
seemingly mine
yet aren't.

there were two
people who carved
marks and scars
on those beautiful
auburn trees.

there were two
people who left
the auburn lonely trees,

no,

there was only one.

and that was...
Jan 2019 · 43
she held out
Rhoni Marjonelle Jan 2019
he ran away
she stumbled,
struggled,
and was baffled.

she was drowning,
not because she didn't
know how to swim,
but because the tides
were too high.

she was crying,
they didn't know
that she was,
even him.

she was dying,
they can't see
and hear
what she is
and what she has,
how she is
and how
she was.

she held out.
Jan 2019 · 65
soon.
Rhoni Marjonelle Jan 2019
the day was tiresome,
we had to rush stuff
and we needed to
recuperate ourselves.

the day was too short,
it was lacking some
things that were left
unsaid, unheard, and
unshared.

the day was too frigid,
our hands were shaking,
our bodies weren't entwining,
but tears came down
pouring.

the day was laughable,
smiles and chuckles
filled our sad faces.

but, still...

she was never happy
with how she ended
everything about him.

she was all
but lonely,
when she bid
her last farewell
with silence
and greetings,
with wishes
and expectations.

she hopes to see
him soon.
Jan 2019 · 48
not you but him
Rhoni Marjonelle Jan 2019
tonight was cold,
indeed.
tonight was short,
indeed.
tonight was lovely,
indeed.
tonight was lonely,
indeed.

i should have known
better
about the latter.

i should have anticipated,
not all efforts
were equally
reciprocated.

i hope tomorrow's
good and would
be little less lonely,
for you are all
i seek,
your hugs are all
i need,
you comforting words
are all
i want to hear
and let me bear
the pain of losing him,
not you but
"him."
Jan 2019 · 185
"is"
Rhoni Marjonelle Jan 2019
he was my impossible
but he was my
i can do it.
he was so laughable
but he was so
kind and deep.
he was a gentleman
but was insensitive.
he was all that matter
but he was and will never
is.
Jan 2019 · 52
it was
Jan 2019 · 30
winsome cuddles
Rhoni Marjonelle Jan 2019
stranded they were
on that cold morn,
struggles did come
still,
peace came across.

she was baffled
he was weary
she was hurt
he was aching.

they were together
from that time
till end.

they played,
she laughed,
and so he did.

happy they were
from giving each other
with hugs, hugs, hugs.

as she looked back
stretched her arms
'round his shoulders
and her words were
"i love you."

he played the role
of stupidity
she bought the act
she asked him why
suddenly,
he covered her
shoulders
with his arms,
so wide, soft, tanned.

tad red they were
happy how the day ended
they were adorable,
loving, endearing,
cute and sweet.
Jan 2019 · 161
he had
Jan 2019 · 36
notes and lanterns
Rhoni Marjonelle Jan 2019
yes, yes you're right
there's something,
someone,
in between.

indeed, you're
not mistaken,
i've taken
a lot from you,
from the very end
till then.

~~~
lost you were,
waiting i was,
indulging you are,
despondent i am.

with every note,
you're music makes,
with every word,
you're voice sings,
what i've heard
and shared,
i offer my deepest
gratitude.

i may not be you're
ideal, perfect stereotype,
but i'd be your
good and honest friend
ready to hear you out
and be your light.
Jan 2019 · 69
his habit
Rhoni Marjonelle Jan 2019
he let words
of his own
criticism
be heard
by her.

those remarks
he confidently
made with no signs
of remorse
nor humor.

after another
daylight,
he said
it was the means
of himself,
it was him,
such enormous,
kind,
insensitive, and
silent inconsistency.

once done more,
will it be just as it is?
or will it turn into
a consistently done
habit?
Jan 2019 · 57
had
Rhoni Marjonelle Jan 2019
had
during the new
year's eve,
it was sad to
discover and
remember
how he then
lost what
she has always
had.

it was sad to
utter words
which would
never come to
light nor dark.

it was sad to
end the year
with tears
and sheer
calculation
of what's today
and tomorrow.

it was truly sad
to know
that he never had
what she has always
had.
Jan 2019 · 55
then they're good
Rhoni Marjonelle Jan 2019
beyond the beautiful
vast blanket of stars,
underneath the gleams
of fireworks and
shooting stars,
some sort of
miscommunication
therefore bloomed
like a nightsky's
sudden gloom.

some sort of a knot
tangled itself
and
gave her and him
some forlorn kisses
and goodnights.
trying to hide
every tear in
their eyes
resides.

some sort of happiness
then showered
from the scent
the candle wicks made,
then they clamored
for endless love
and beauty,
for eternal friendship
and clarity.
Dec 2018 · 74
none.
Rhoni Marjonelle Dec 2018
sadly, she was right
that he wasn't
meant for her.

she gave more
than what he
deserved.

but, she got
nothing in return.
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