Faa Jun 9
Gusts of your breath like a breeze
Fanned against my lips with each exhale
Your soft lips, grazing the chapped surface
Shivers danced down my spine
In a waltz so furious, my body in frenzy
Revelling to the beats of our hearts
Excitement almost dizzying
Feeling your gentle fingertips graze my cheeks
As you cupped my face, softly
Your eyelashes fluttered
Against my flushed cheeks
As a butterfly would against flowers
The creases of your Cupid’s bow
Finally pressed against my own
Our noses touching, sliding against each other
Lips now melding like seeping honey
Through a kiss so vivid
A kiss that only happened in my daydreams
for all of you who longs for a kiss in your fantasies
Alicia Allen Jun 6
Life has a way of making fools of even the smartest mind and love is its greatest weapon.
life has a way of teaching us  the lessons we try hardest not to learn and even when we see the hit coming from a mile away, it still hurts like a motherfkr on impact.
hit one: being in love with someone you know sooner or later will replace you.
hit two: praying for that one in a million chance to move up from side chick to main bitch.
hit three: knowing this side chick shit is hard while being the butt of  life's biggest joke, thinking I'm in love.
Talia Jun 6
Life's simple illusion
it's too real
the simple love is just my delusion
but your charisma, it's a steal
I don't expect much from a long overdue love letter
I wanted to be yours
It felt I belonged to you the way I wore your sweater
sacrificed it all and got on all fours
you don't need me anymore
but you still have your attraction
I don't understand, what for?

You were the man I wanted to marry
There's my downfall, my simple delusion
due to disorder, you grew wary
So, here's our conclusion

in your arms, safe from the rest of the world
your eyes were the deepest abyss into your soul
so perfect, now it's just apart of my dreamworld
so full of self-control
But it's far too late for a love letter.
Deep Thought May 27
"Things don't need to last forever to be perfect." - Daydream Nation

Can you recall when your innocence was lost?
Maybe it had to do with all the alcohol you've drunk?
Without knowing how to cope, resulting in night terrors.
Impenetrable, irreplaceable, imcombustable, irrevocable memories.

Trying to relive, revive past memories, experiences, pictures, and videos framed for all to see.
Memories etched into our brains like an etch-a-sketch board.

Do you remember the innocence you had as a child?
Whether coming home to a pre-cooked meal or riding your bike around aimlessly.

Storing memories in the attics of the mind.
A dark & dusty room filled with cobwebs,
Perhaps you'll find those packs of cigarettes you lost.

Similar to the stories in books or movies on Netflix.
Trapped between delusion & fictional fantasy.

We are the retrospective light - angelic humans.
Think it's time to let go...
What do you think?
Cory Williams May 27
I live for that sound,
Between life and death,
And naturally forced by my hand,
Serrated steel extension of wild precision,
It says it needs a shower,
And I oblige.

Daddy takes care of his children;
I am firm.
Keep your nose to the grindstone,
I am warm,
I'm grateful for your amenity,
Your love,
Your life in pools of red,
My children live through you,
Through your sacrifice they grow.

I...I know you understand,
As you make that sound,
Telling me "you are welcome",
Cradled in my loving arms,
I am humbled.
My mind is filled with questions
with ‘what ifs’ and what should have happened

In a flipped universe what would have been the notion?
Would we be together or would I still be the only one with emotion?
December 2017.
Miru Eirudy Apr 24
An imaginary world where anything exist.
One’s imagination it all you need.
To write is to create - an endless possibilities.
Word by word, phrase by phrase, a reality within one’s mind.
A swing of a pen and it shall become.
Line between line, a story is made.
A reality to the characters within.
A world where her story begins.
With the stroke of my pen, I created a world.
A world where my character would live.
A peaceful town, bountiful of blessings.
And thus, she was born - safe and healthy.
Continuously writing with my pen in hand.
I skipped the details until she’s nine.
Grown to be a pretty little girl everyone adores.
But now it has come - it is time to get the story done.
The enticing blank paper allures my imagination.
An empty space where everything is possible.
A swing of my pen is all I need.
And it shall be done, created, thus shall happen.
My hands moved without even thinking.
Slowly and slowly, the conflict will be done.
For out little girl, trapped inside an unknown ground.
Finding her way out, crying while calling for someone.
Seeing this in my own imagination.
I can’t help by to make her suffer more.
It is my story and she’s my character.
Whatever I wrote shall be her fate.
I moved my pen once more.
And make it rain for her to feel cold.
Enlarged the forest, and make her hopeless.
Seeing her dull eyes makes me what to hurt her more than twice.
Hearing her scream with her lifeless voice.
It is nothing but a music into my ears.
I made her more and more hopeless - a chill on my spine.
Slowly taking her life had never this so fun.
As she took her last breath, I feel empty.
I never thought my story meets and ending.
To see my own creation lived until I end it.
I couldn’t help but to think that I would like to switch places.
And now I’m back being an ordinary girl.
To which I am nothing but an average human.
Living in a world where it is bound by rules.
Where I wonder, is there a writer behind it all?
Whoever it may, I have my pen.
That’s all I need to create my ideal end.
A pen that can make anything possible.
A world where I am the character of my own.
The first poem I published publicly on my Facebook Account. :)
Yan F Apr 21
Have you ever felt
Like you've gone too far to stop?
What if you're falling?

When you fall deeply
Quickly descending so bleak
Would you climb back up?

Have you ever tried
Climbing atop a mountain
And then miss the ground?

When you are falling
It's not the fall that kills you
It's the sudden stop.
Blanche is the man protagonist of the play A Streetcar Named Desire and a woman who lived in her delusions of reality. She continued to fall deeper into her dreams until a taste of reality made her snap to insanity in the end--- It was her fantasies that kept her sane.

Blanche is also close to the Blanca or Blancé meaning white or pure, basically empty.
Yan F Apr 18
In a world full
    of wishes...
Where promises,
are a currency,
     And prayers,
   worth gold:

You would be,
   my everything, yet---

---I would be:
   the richest man
      in the whole damn world...

and for you
I'd still be waiting...
Yan F Apr 18
I am a figment of your imagination,
I am your living lie.

Listless little lucid nightmares,
Lost and loveless, I’m here to watch you cry.

Realise your butterfly dream,
Here we’re sinking deep...
Forever diving slower…

All before we fall asleep.

Step one, cross your fingers,
Then close your eyes,

Feel the pain, it lingers,
And then it starts to rise.

But before you do,
Just make a wish,
Take a deep breath,
And we'll make it come true.

Tell me your darkest secret,
That's step two,
Show me your rage and your tempest,
So I can take a step closer to you,

Nearer and nearer,
Never farther,
Just laying low,
Another step taken slow,

Step three here we make it faster,
Flashing lights burning brighter,
Careless whispers from the radio,
Playing harder and louder,

It's blinding,
It's deafening,
But they don't matter.

This is your butterfly dream,
And it’s my worst nightmare,

When I’m right here fleeting,
I’m yours to shatter and tear.

I am your butterfly dream,
My chapped wings can’t break free,

And tonight your smile is all I see,
It’s my poison and your kiss is killing me.

Step four when you clench your fist,
Baby, just bite your wet lips,
Cause just as the night is nearly over,
Listen to what remains of my strength,

Your butterfly can barely even hover.

So step five start to cry,
Water my heart you’ve salted dry,
Prepare to say your worst goodbye,

It’s time to let go of your make believe lover.

Give freedom your crippled butterfly.

And just watch me up high,
Higher and higher,
Quickly going slower…
Up, up, up,
And then I’ll see your tears just shower,
And I’d begin to go lower,
Up, up, up, stop.
Down, down, down,
And in your frown I’d drop.

I’m your loveless little lucid lie,
Your butterfly dream,
And I’m here to stay another night—

Until the next time I see you cry.
2017-November--- Requested by a close cousin
Title by Lonely Poet

Butterfly effect(A dramatisation on the Uncertainty Principle) -The wind created by a flap of a butterfly's wings can generate tornadoes at the other end of the world.
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