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Michael Marro Dec 2019
There once was a time when wooing women with carefully crafted words was a grand purpose. Significant sentiment, conveying desperate desire and intimate intent, were the staples of the ardent young man. His only recourse was to face the object of his affection, and, with tremulous tone and generous gesture, convey the earnestness of his cause from his heart to hers.
These matters of love should perfectly pierce her heart with incisive inflection and amorous articulation. Instead, our mobile, modulated, mute-able media turns awry this enterprise of great moment and dulls its course.
I now live in an age of digital despair where ghostly static and fast-food conversation are the new calamity of so-longed life. How much easier to bare the pangs of despised love when confronted by its whips and scorns, rather that face the eternal imagination of empty airwaves.
The "art" of ghosting took me by surprise. Whatever happened to simply acknowledging the effort with a polite, but definitive "no, thank you" ?
Creator Sun Sep 2019
Hey.
If you're reading this,
Which you shouldn't be,
I just wanted to say,
You don't need me.

You don't need me.
I don't need to be here.
I'll just drag you down,
With my flaws and I-
I'll cause you to drown.

In loneliness.
With me.
I don't want you to suffer.
I don't want to suffer.
With you.

Is it normal to feel like
Someone else's shadow?
Is it normal to feel like a ghost
An ethereal spirit, disconnected.
Lost.

I'm lost.
At a loss of words,
lost in this game called life.
And I don't even know why
I'm pulling out this knife.

To hurt myself.
Ghosts can't bleed, can they?
Ghosts don't feel, do they?
Ghosts shouldn't matter, should they?
I'm not making sense, am I?
A continuation of the previous poem, I'm not sure if I like this. It turned out different then expected. Oh well.
Creator Sun Sep 2019
Hey.
If you're reading this,
Which you shouldn't be,
I just wanted to say,
You don't need me.
I really want to write more but I should try limiting the words and see where that brings me ahhhhhh I will write another poem that continues this but this will be set aside as the paragraph that should be said for the trials of the Voice Acting in the project that I will be opening in October.
sadbadhabits Aug 2019
you say you sleep better alone.
you told me you couldn’t sleep
until i was by your side.
i cradled your head
so close you could hear my heart beat for you.
i played with your hair,
i traced the outline of your face
gentle enough to not wake you
i played my favorite songs for you
and you slept for hours in my arms.
when you woke up you said,
“i thought i was dreaming of having you
in my bed,
but then i realized it wasn’t a dream,
and it made me so happy to pull you closer.”
the sun was shining differently that day.
you smiled more bright that day
our love grew more that day.
but now you sleep better alone
for joshua
M e l l o Jul 2019
lulubog lilitaw
haharap sa'yo
tila kahapon
hindi nagkasakitan
mangangamusta ngayon
bukas wala na naman
ang gulo mo
ano ba talaga ang sadya mo?
andito ka na naman
babalik na tila
parang wala lang
maawa ka naman
utak ko naguguluhan
mga mensahe kong iyong binabalewala
kahit seen hindi mo magawa
parang tanga nag-aantay
may pag-asa pa ba o wala?
kaya ako'y titigil na
sa kahibangang kay tagal kong inalagaan
tatakbo palayo
sa anino **** nagmistulang
naging multo na ng nakaraan ko
Poem of the day. July 28
Thank you to my new officemate her stories inspires me to write this poem. Sabi ko na sayo isusulat ko to.
Cedric May 2019
Oh how respected!
How brave your soul is.
How marvelous you’ve been,
To me who’s despair ridden.

You of nobility or so it seems.
Of an esteemed Catholic family,
But alas you’re no queen!
Of procrastination maybe.

You whose ire knows no bounds.
Of your shrapnel-made tongue!
Remember those times, love?
Of how you hated social media!

Your hatred and trust issues,
How valuable they are to you.
Hatred of guidance counselors,
Led to hatred of God himself!

Oh how brave of you to oppose!
How mighty you are in your stand!
I don’t mean to judge, love.
You’re free to believe, or not.

You’ve become a pitiable ghost!
I suppose, maybe it’s just me…
You disappeared, love.
Where have you been?

From admiration and care,
To admonishment and hate!
You who left me in August!
Are striped of that description!

These aren’t anger filled lines.
It’s of disappointment, love.
We’re both cowards, right?
But why leave me alone!

I’ve been there for you in May!
Remember the ninth of eighteenth?
With you eating frozen watermelons,
While it rained ever so gently?

You cried and cried,
Shouting “I’m okay.”
I lied and lied.
Saying “No, you’re not.”

Why’d you become my August ghost?
Did you regret crying that night?
Why’d you leave me all alone?
It’s better if I just died…

Because I was just a friend.
Not even worth your words.
Because you left me hanging.
On the twenty-second of August.
Another poem about her. I’m tired.
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