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Hey, remember our late night chats?
I'll never forget those times talking about ourselves all night.
But it all ended with a simple block,
before I confessed my feelings for you.

When you unblocked me and say your sorry,
I just ignored you, not because I'm mad,
but because you didn't explain why you blocked me.
So I ignored your messages and never replied.

But as the time passed by,
I slowly regretted for not replying.
Now her life is happy and so is mine,
But these unexpressed feelings still hurts.
Just a very short story of my past
S Bharat Apr 9

I waited
for long time.
My hope will

changes clime,
When you will

I asked for.
Some bliss
To me.

I desired
Not a life nor
You just miss

You become
And express

Felt some
And confess
The heart leap,
Your aptitude,

The heart keep
And in solitude

S. Bharat
I didn't know
I've been doing this for so long
I met you online
We had only one chat
About an hour
But you changed my life
In a bad way
In a way I can't describe
At that exact moment
The lies started
And have never stopped since
Christy Lei Oct 2018
Behind the thin screen, our fingers
gently touch, though unseen; the texture of his thumbs
prints with mine, leaving a trail of his
delicate genes; the heat at his fingertip
flows into my veins, climbing on my
both arms like soft summer vines. Paralysis,
parallel universe, paradise: I picked these
words for my feeling. While my friend’s mad, stop smiling
at your phone like an idiot!, she shouted at me
using ALL-CAPS, how rude—
he never used all-caps to me, a real
gentleman. Later, I told him I was addicted to
texting him, how dangerous, I looked up this
very symptom, and they said something cool about my
brain: the insatiable reward circuit in my
hypothalamus, dopamine molecules
jumping between my neurons, the uncertainty, the double
blind-folded ***, euphoric, warm, fuzzy—
basically like an ******, they concluded.
But I was forgetful, like any other drug addict, I threw
all the warnings and science into the air, and
we text, on and on,
our pores speak, our fluids fever,
our eyes flirt, our fingers glide—I never knew if
one day we would hit
the lethal dose, but it must be sweet to get high and
die holding hands by his side.
sometimes when
no one checks
the group chat
for awhile and
there’s no one
else on-
it feels like you’re
just talking in an
empty theatre- waiting.
waiting for anything.
a “read” notification,
a typing bubble-
a sign that you’re
not alone-
Ako'y nahulog sa matatamis **** salita
Hindi ko alam kung ako'y maniniwala
Walang kasiguradohan kung san ba ito patungo
Ngunit kailangan kong panindigan sapagkat ikay minahal ko

Sa araw araw na pagpupuyatan nating dalawa
malabong hindi mo ako magustuhan,diba?
Sinabi mo pa nga na masaya kang kausap ako
Kaya ako naman itong walang alam,nagpauto.

Ilang buwan ang lumipas,ayos naman tayo.
Ngunit hindi ko naman pala pansin na ika'y unti unting nawawala sa akin
Wala akong alam kung bakit humantong sa ganito
Yung masayang usapan naging malabong ugnayan.

Nalaman ko nalang na iba na pala ang pinag kakaabalahan mo ngayon
Yung dating ako lang yung nagpapasaya sayo,ngayon iba na
Kaibigan,pinapalaya kita,hindi sa naging duwag ako kundi dahil minahal na kita
Mahal na kita samantalang yung matalik na kaibigan ko ang minahal mo.
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2018
Are you free tonight?

May be
Yet undecided
Whether to join you or not

Let me first be sure
What I need

A silent moment
A soulful music
A serious chat or
A sound sleep

Still I am not sure
Whether I need,
A cold beer
A hot lemon
An exotic coffee
Or Just
The delighting thirst
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Friday Air
Michael May 2018
I believe in a number of things
Horses, gators, even mammals with wings
I believe that a bird and a rat, got cozy one night
and that became that
that as in bat
a bat became that
from the bed of a bird and a rat.
the bird saw the rat being chased by the cat
that they had in common, the cat was a brat
So they chatted and chatted, till the chat became flat
I haven't a bed, but I do have this mat, said the rat.
This mat will do, the bird said as she sat.
soon that became that
that as in a bat
a bat became that
from the bed of a bird and a rat.
I'm tired
Brian McDonagh Apr 2018
Talking is an art,
The more talking done,
The lesser the fear of talking
At all,
Whether alone, in front of close acquaintances,
Or toward individuals unknown
And nonexistent before.
Admittingly, talking can be overdone
Like chard stew,
And talking on top of people…
Well, it cannot be helped,
But no one will receive a Pulitzer for it.
Unless if a “good idea” sounds from one
And ices the agreement cake.
But beware of those ideas you wish to verbally patent
In front of a gathering,
For if you only wish,
You may end up falling into the abyss
Of a silence that traps not your mouth,
But your will to speak, evaporating your words and
Ideas that might have bravely forwarded discussion.
Vanity, thy name is Groupthink:
What talk might arise next
When no talk arose at all?
I was told once that I have the gift of gab and...well...that individual was onto something lol.
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