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Ileana Amara May 2020
underneath the seams of fate,
tell me, which do you regret more;
the day you met me?
or the day you left?

IA
A thought-provoking question from my friend that I'm currently thinking of.
Ileana Amara Jul 2020
idealism is a fraud;

angels don't cut off demons' horns
nor do they make them do so;

trust is built for decades,
it cannot be rebuilt in a month
after its destruction;

sometimes worn out apologies
are slapped band-aids onto wounds;

love is not a combat of logic and emotion,
whoever wins makes the other go;

hearts don't stay hearts,
they turn into things
when their own beats begin to lie;

we live in utopian daydreams,
with only a few, broken but breathing souls
seeing through the seams.

IA
Ileana Amara Jan 2021
𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒚
𝒊𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒅.
01.25.21. | just a play of words from a song with a deeply embedded memory.
she
Ileana Amara May 2020
she
she breathes chaos
with a sophisticated beauty of a lady boss
fear the unpredicted, for she stops at nothing
when she desires something.

IA ☕
I have been reminded of a beautiful piano piece I once played with a violin, entitled "She" by Charles Aznavour, the words of Kretzmer are also mesmerizing.
Ileana Amara Aug 2020
she wrote a myriad of poetry
like blood from the wounds
pouring down onto a deep, mystical art

she wrote a myriad of poetry
like she kept her soul in tune
with a thousand words and unfathomed thoughts

she wrote a myriad of poetry
like they were all for the moon;
a midnight composition that often ends in three dots

she wrote a myriad of poetry
like a seamstress who tries to have her heart sewn
from all the inevitable loss and endings that tore her apart.


nonetheless, with tired eyes and hands,
the poet writes, hoping someone would understand.

IA
Ileana Amara May 2020
my heart weighs
with both heaviness and emptiness,
trying to beat to its regular rhythm,
to find clarity and reason

filled with the urge to write,
catalyzed by the chaos of emotion,
I lay sleepless with my thoughts,
in an attempt to fill in the silent voids.

IA
Ileana Amara May 2020
my nails dug through my skin,
clutching humanity,
saving myself from scarcity,
the deeper, the better and I started bleeding.

put on a sleek black dress,
in romanticized grief, I don't long to impress,
black is death, black is elegance,
I long to feel solace and trance.

might I be visiting a dead loved one,
yet my own name was etched on the tombstone,
my soul weeps for what a river nor ocean
of human tears could have poured out and done.

IA
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
I weave this poem before sunrise,
barely realizing how quick time flies,
feeling my heart tangled in tender ties,
I think of you when I close my eyes;

in relentless motion, our chaos dance
synchronizing pain and growth by chance
I held my fragile heart for such romance,
you know well to throw me off my stance

but everything I touch, shatters
and everything that hurts, matters
you're the solace and home my soul would seek,
so I would love you from afar, because that's how my heart speak.

IA
Ileana Amara May 2020
I itch to find the right words,
so as not to come off all messy and absurd
yet a lot of oppositions exist even before a word or two
all these words remain unsaid just as how it used to;
reserve your wit,
reserve your advice,
reserve all your chaos,
because sometimes words come off as swords
when all emotions and thoughts come off unfathomed and cluttered.

IA
Ileana Amara May 2022
i tried to say goodbye to my grief,
the thing that has made a home
inside of me;
the mother of my craft,
the suffering i cherish.

but now i know,
she is a tenant of permanence,
inside me, she is a remnant
of both love and memory.

sincerely, ileana.
05.24.22.| more than half a year since i last wrote something, more than half a year since i wallowed in the depths of my grief. this time, i'd like to write again — not just of grief, but of love and life and people.
Ileana Amara Oct 2021
i long to find solace; a resting place,
nothing is heavier than the wishes i have
to have you back here,
to have one last hug,
to know that losing you is just a nightmare
i have yet to wake up from by tomorrow.

it weighs heavy in my soul
to bleed in restless poetries;
and like i am - hopeless & falling into pieces,
this heaviness inside keeps digging an empty hole.

IA
11.01.21.| i also wrote this on the 22nd of october, but was unable to publish it perhaps because of hello poetry's system glitch since i have been inactive too for quite some time.
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
in the vast majority of galaxies,
and written down histories
I think it's beautiful we exist in the same era;
weaving tales of friendship, love and ephemera.

IA ☕
Ileana Amara May 2020
whoever prescribed love
as a medication for wounds,
did not know unfulfilled quantity
needs an antidote difficult to find.

IA
Ileana Amara May 2020
where solitude and solace unite,
the painful past is viewed at my hind sight,
for which the present heals, the future becomes more bright
stay here for a while, it's alright to mourn and heal in the night.

IA
Ileana Amara Mar 2021
with a sophisticated touch,
a burning wildfire heart,
a chaotic mind unmatched,
she is a strong woman, an art.

and when they ask,
"when strong women are down,
to whom or when do they unmask?"
i'd say they'll weep but never be their own let down.

IA
03.12.21.| a pretty flawed poem but i hope it's not late to celebrate international women's month.
Ileana Amara May 2020
played our song one more time,
fell into a deep sleep,
then dreamt of you,
my sweetest apparition
you held my hand,
you pulled me close,
you kissed my lips,
we had coffee and watched the waves,
by the shores, our feet were enslaved
sweet, sweet apparition
you felt so real,
that you broke my heart when I woke up.

IA
Ileana Amara Dec 2020
dancing on its own rhythm,
battling between what it knows,
and all the unsaid feelings.

IA
Ileana Amara May 2020
we hold our mind and heart
of such a time-made empirical value
we loved, and we lost, where do we restart?
sweet paradox, maybe it's a theoretical us down to "me & you"

IA
For BLT's Word of the Day Challenge: Empirical.
Ileana Amara May 2020
you write about the way it feels at the beginning,
like someone's airing up a balloon
inside your stomach
you write about urgency, that call across the wind
when you say his name
you become a scientist, a philosopher, an evangelist,
you theorize, you believe, you write:
"the universe recycles atoms and maybe yours and mine
were next to each other at the beginning",
maybe your collision was the Big Bang,
that kick started the entire universe,
maybe the stories are true
you write about the music
of suites and symphonies and operas
the notes that save your life
you write about when he looks at you,
it's the plucked strings of a guitar
the beating, resonant ***** in your chest.
you write about how you didn't want to fall
you didn't need anyone and you had plans
you were solid and unyielding and stable--
but he crashed into you..
and the world shifted under your feet,
you were Pangaea,
he separated you into continents,
you write about fear, and the warning signs
you chalk up to anxiety,
that inner sound bite you can't delete,
you dare to shout over it:
"I am -- brave."
"I am -- heartbroken."
here comes the letdown, the free-fall
of a thousand-foot cliff
all the way down, you write, philosophize, rationalize:
"The universe is moving toward entropy
so maybe we are an inevitable disorder,
meant to dissipate into nothing
"I do not/
am not matter."

Bang.

you smash into the ground,
you are blood and broken bones
heart in shreds, nothing catches you
you write: "If none of it was real.."
that dizzying drop, one second to the next
all in your head, you don't understand
and you'll try to figure it out, try to define
but it's all fragmented memories and crossed out lines
still, your hands will continue to type,
and through blurred eyes, you'll write.

IA
I dug upon my poetry journals and stumbled upon this one I wrote when I was fourteen.
Ileana Amara May 2020
open wounds tear through my flesh,
dead weight fills up my heart's pericardium,
darkness of sorrow slowly consumes my soul,
a habit of relentless grieving of the unforgotten.

there's a tombstone in my head,
in a graveyard of old memories and undead people,
not quite fancy, but once in a while
I sit beside it with a mug of coffee and anxiety.

I talk to it as if it were alive,
sometimes as if I hope it would talk back
and take off the dead weight and misery in my heart,
I grieve for the gone yet undead people whom I deeply loved.

sometimes I would bring some kerosene and match,
hoping to scorch down the place to ease all the pain,
but I am human; I exist, I love, I feel, and I remember
I may grieve of the unforgotten today, but I will live.

IA
Ileana Amara Jan 2021
chaos kissed my soul,
whispering "play with words,
tear apart the whole,
then break your heart,
with your own hands
on the hilt of the sword."

IA ☕
Ileana Amara Aug 2022
sometimes i still mourn & long
for the language we made for ourselves
but can no longer be spoken.

sincerely, ileana.
08.29.22.| they say lovers are like inventors; they create a world & language of their own — one that is both beautifully & painfully irreplaceable.
Ileana Amara Feb 2021
we both ran in circles,
chasing each other
like the sun and the moon.

upon waiting for our meeting,
we finally collided into an eclipse;
one takes over the other,
and the whole world stopped to watch.

the lovers' eclipse only lasts for a while
and as we bid our goodbyes,
we slowly part as we then again,
run around in circles until we meet again.

IA
02.02.21. | haven't been active here for a while, i've been writing on another platform & it has been consuming the entirety of me lately around late night hours. not guilty tho, feels good to write.
Ileana Amara May 2020
maybe if I try to write,
I would feel sincerity again,
drowning into the pages and lines
of truths and fallacies,
maybe if I learn how to dance,
all doubts will shed along with pain,
maybe if I sing a song,
I can compose and express but not to please
maybe if I paint an artwork,
I would accept having you as my lovely subject,
in sceneries of memories, at the stroke of tender nostalgia
maybe if I interfere in the duel of both my mind and heart,
one takes over freely and I venture a new start.

but who am I to even stand armor-less,
battling against the uncertainties?

IA
Ileana Amara Apr 2021
what if the things that breathed life
into this monster inside me
are the hearts that i've mended
at the expense of my own?

or perhaps, the cruelty of this world
which constantly blew
the small flame of hope within me?

what if the reason
this monster continuously grows
is because i have never embraced it,
accepted it, and love it as it is?

because all monsters ever needed
was to be loved & not be feared —
because fear is the twin sister of hatred.

IA
04.26.21.| "poetry is a creative means of human transcendence."
Ileana Amara May 2020
some strings are cut
when there are no rational ends
to untie the knot.

IA
Ileana Amara Jul 2020
they say that to love someone in a lifetime,
you have to attend a thousand funerals
of people who they used to be.

i stood before yours in disbelief,
as you stood before mine;
pale, cold, grasping for life.

IA
Inspired by Priebe's words.
Ileana Amara Jan 2021
other people defined love but she said,
"love is remembering the first time and how
you fall in love with that person,
everyday and even on the tough times.
it's not supposed to be a battle,
for love gives and understands.
it's waking up each day grateful
for love and your person;
whom you never wish to part from
to find your worth somewhere else."

IA
01.10.21. | filling my heart up with love as i write this.
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
humans are molded with two ears
to hear a story's two sides, to judge without fears
to cut another for the sake of bigotry and injustice;
perhaps to hell do they reside, a conscience without peace.

IA
Ileana Amara May 2020
the more knowledge we impart to ourselves,
the greater the sorrow,
ignorance is bliss but not for tomorrow,
chaos and riots arise holding weapons' helves
the deeper the wisdom, so does the grief,
all these violence and injustice causes disbelief,
has all the humanity dissolved in a hierarchy of power,
in this time of wide awakening, do the just collapse or take over?

IA
I've been digging into the current issues occurring worldwide, and it's been quite heavy to take all of it in, that it feels almost weird for me to divert myself to other things. I hope anyone who reads this is doing well.
Ileana Amara May 2020
there is no good in goodbyes,
nor the rendition of the universe in who comes and goes,
when the lights have dimmed and I close my eyes,
I venture a seemingly lonely path when the cold wind blows,
there are no memories easily disposed,
from a soul who made me love my own,
for whom now may be the subject of my prose.
we savored the view of the sunrise,
and as the sun sets to dripping polychromatic skies,
I realized my soul was tethered with yours,
filled with a beautiful, dangerous, and impeccable force,
when words so widely known fail to express,
music and poetry were our language,
philosophizing life, death and even happiness
we begin to venture the chaos of our minds like a sage.
when the old wounds are pressed down to reopen,
and apologies begin to slice like a knife,
a sweet misery for an aching soul to resort to a pen,
weeping for time to heal what reason cannot.

the sunset is over, and as the darkness engulf us
I quietly cry and smile, our hands untwining
with such understanding that maybe this too, would pass
but how do we know when goodbyes become a new beginning?

IA
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
beneath all the stillness,
is an underlying ache and madness.

IA
Ileana Amara Aug 2020
poem lines run through my head;
unstructured, barely coherent, contemplative,
they were the words & thoughts left unsaid
this heart bleeds wasted poetries like a thriving captive.

IA
Ileana Amara Dec 2020
love knows no bounds
when the logic retreats,
and a beating heart is found.

IA
Ileana Amara May 2020
never spit and dance
on the graveyard of a sheep,
who knows if it is an old clothing
of a wolf on watch.

IA
Ileana Amara May 2020
someone in the room asked, "what is one thing
you would want to change about a girl?"
she turned her gaze, with a wine glass
wrapped in her delicate fingers,

"To be a woman."
her answer instigated the audience,
some stared at her, puzzled and confused
some who understood her,
looked at her intently intrigued.

"I sense a charisma of Athena,"
a witty man approached,
showing his well-sculpted physique,
"you're silver-eyed and daring."

she wasn't one for flattery,
"She's Helen of Troy,"
another man walked, cornering her
"bringing armies to heel with a turn of her head."

she flashed a daunting smile,
sipping the remaining blood red wine,
"I am no goddess, but a woman;
because to be a woman, is to be undefined."

IA
you
Ileana Amara May 2020
you
all it took was one song
for the ground to open up
and swallow me viciously
into a memory lane of love.

IA
Ileana Amara May 2020
what I used to love,
but now wince at the mere sound,
mere sight, and mere thought of it.

IA
Ileana Amara May 2020
I remember on a night out,
the butterflies and a genuine smile,
every song to another brushes off my doubts,
unconsciously engraving into my soul;
the beat, the words, the melody,
my fragile heart seems to understand the language of music.

a playlist of beginning and throughout,
will always hurt more than
a playlist played on the ending,
because to remember the good times and weep is a sweet misery.

IA

— The End —