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Sometimes I think maybe we fall in love first
And then we seek lover.
Cause I have always heard lovers leave
But never seen love has leaft.
juliet 1d
【i am the sinner.
          i am the liar in you

                                           i am the seer】
Yes, snow.  Mebbe take my face in your hands and shake me?


It's...snowing.  Hug yourself within the pale
Eye of these ***** hours whose ghastly sense
Of Winter sits triumphant oer pretense,
As tiny flakes 'non filter down t'avail
The soul of that keen silence--cherished bail
We relished in forgotten days like thence
Twas fit to sanctify us, wandring hence
To finger cotton-candy whiteness' tale.
Don't ask me why my heart sank in a poor
'Scuse when my owly eyes first caught the view.
Nor if I loved morn's cuppa like twas fer
My soul's recure, Assam just what we knew
It should be if you taste it, no.  We were
Too fond of lies, I think, was't?  I miss YOU.

The words you use to hurt me
Rip it like the used paper in my journal
...say--whatever, nor how to say "ghastly" with another word.


O how the gutter drools in morning's pale
And ghastly eye, leaves fluttring down from hence
In lonely ones or twos, so yellow, whence
Look how November lays a carpet, hale
Aye golden, thick and musty, whose detail
Glows dimly under grey racks' twilight, dense
Calm is't? mair bitter than our souls fr'intents
Like, while Death stares us in the face sans bail.
Trees' ***** boughs stretch upward as winds stir
The fallen with a careless hand.  We do
Not look, but with faint shivring as it were,
Pull sweaters closer, hang up lights to woo
Warm feelings as the strands blink through this poor
Light, and rain weeps sans consolation, blue.

*lifts brows inquisitively* Hmm?  Was there something else to add?  I forget what....
GhostMOTH Nov 6
Hello Dear…
There's a lot of pain in my soul.
I don't feel like I can be seen, hence being a ghost.
I'm not calling the seen those who gather attention.
I've never been able to hold the necessary attention that is love.
I'm tiny.
Little to ńöẗḧïńġ...
But I'm something.
I mustered up courage deep inside me, somewhere in my shadow...
I pulled it out and coated it with what I thought was hope.
But whether it was or wasn't, it overpowered that courage.
It escalated until it had no other option but to fall.
When it fell, the choices were already in motion.
A result was ready to explode...and cause casualties.
...Or just one casualty.
I guess a ghost can see the future.
Its shadow can do more than foreshadow.
I opened up a door for courage...
But I let out a demon called melancholy.
I made a mistake...
And it led to another heartache.
I never knew that I was my own weakness...
Not until I was bitten by the Gloom Bug.
F Tiniky Nov 1
Dear diary,
I'm sorry because I can't draw and you can't be as cool as my imaginary journal.
I'm sorry because I don't write regularly, and I use that excuse, that I can't write just in the right mood when I feel the time passing in the mistery of the eternal.
I'm sorry because even if I have such a bad memory, I like to forget.
I'm sorry but I let you know that I burned my previous diary even if it wasn't a concrete diary just a black book with poems, a touchable memory palette.
I'm sorry because I live in my own world and in the "real" one nothing really happens, nothing I can write about.
I'm sorry...
I'm still trying to find out who I am, trying to break out my inhibitions, to play out my demons..
Sign, Tiniky
Fluorescent Oct 29
What is complete can not ever be spoiled.
Static perfection in every point.
Slices of moments, magnificent world,
Life that's eternal in every word.
It’s 6:36PM. It’s already dark. We just had our dinner. Some of the guys are facing each other in a square position, telling life stories while being fueled by lambanog. The girls are laughing while playing cards with two kuya’s. Some guys few meters away are chatting. I am alone in this corner with my hammock.

It’s 6:40PM. We had a long day today. I woke up at 5am for a 6am “calltime” departure which later became 7am. We were all set while sitting in the tractor bagful. We were all set when we noticed one of the wheels is slowly softening. We were all set when we needed to go down because the tractor won’t work. An hour of resting while riding in the tractor turned to be an hour of warm up.

It’s 6:49pm. I was not able to physically prepare for this fieldwork.

It’s 6:51pm. My diary entry was interrupted by a dazzling firefly.

It’s 6:52pm. I just became conscious of how the forest sound at night. It’s far more interesting than the noise from all the chatting around. The other day my heart is oozing with love for my workmates. Today I don’t even know how to communicate with them. I am more fluent in silence and they are fluent in noise. Maybe I was just etra sensitive today.

It’s 6:56pm. We walked almost 7 hours today. We walked 7 hours with our heavy backs. We walked 7 hours for a total distance of 10km today. Most guys have bags weighing more than 25kg. I couldn’t complain with mine around 6kg.

It’s 7:01pm. While we were passing the river earlier, I had been sensitive to the head guard’s words. It felt like he was disappointed in me. Maybe he didn’t mean it. Maybe I was just extra sensitive today.

It’s 7:05pm. After lunch, while discussing whether we should collect the Hoya 20 meters above the groud, it felt like my opinion didn’t matter. Maybe I was only thinking it that way. Maybe I was just extra sensitive today.

At 6:36pm, it all dawned on me. I am physically tired. I am emotionally tired. My tears fell. Maybe I was just extra sensitive today.

At 6:36pm, it all dawned on me. It’s the 15th. It has been a month today since I decided to finally let him go. It has been a month today since we both knew it won’t and couldn’t work. It has been a month today. My tears fell. Maybe I was just extra sensitive today.

It’s now 7:23pm.
15 Oct 2018
here I am,
still holding onto you,
just like I did when I was fourteen.

here I am,
re-reading all I've wrote:
    "February 7th 2015, Tuesday,
    "March 5th 2015, Thursday, 9am"
    "May 20th 2015, Wednesday,
    "May 22nd 2015, Fri... May 28th
     2015, Thurs... May 29th, June 1st.."

It's been three whole years,
we're coming to the fourth,
your ten digit number,
is still at the tip of my fingers.
             Why is it so hard to move on?
             We weren't even together.
             We didn't even have a song;
             Weren't even friends for that

I guess at that moment I was just so happy,
I lost track of all of the who, what, when, how and whys.
I got lost between sweet words and care,
Then when it all just ended

         But I guess that's how we love
         We don't think, we just love,
         We just care, we just give.
         That alone is so beautiful.
         That alone makes us smile.

          But you see, if it takes a turn,
          And you realise far too late,
          That you have given all of you,
          Now you have nothing left for
          You know that you're broken,
          But still, you tell yourself it's
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