You ain't my type of song
I don't even want to sing along
But you're ever so stubborn
You have shattered my cover

And here I lay on this bed
I feel like I'm Rolling In The Deep
Sinking, drowning with the thoughts in my head
Thinking.... we could've had it all
If only I could sing the entire song

We could've Set Fire to The Rain
If that is even a thing
Or stop the Turning Tables
Like we used to play When We Were Young

It does feel like a Million Years Ago
But All I Ask is...
If this is my last night tonight,
Know that I will always say Hello from the other side

I may be Chasing Pavements
But I will always Send My Love to Someone Like You
This is my Sweetest Devotion
So once again I'll go back to rollin'

This day of love,
My heart slowly wants to crack
Slowly and foolishly weak
It starts to crumble into pieces,
Like stars that we once wished to in the sky

A wished selfishly forgotten by the gods
Loved washed away by tears of our broken hearts
But the Gods should remain still,
For this Valentines Day
My heart will never break apart

'Morning,
Mary!

               -'Morning,
               Martin

Meet
My
Main
Man
Mike. . .

               -'Morning,
               Mike.

                                   ~'Morning,
                                   Mondo
                                   Mama!

               -Mondo
               Mama???
               Meaning??

Mary,
Mike's
Merely
Merry
Meeting
Mary :)

               -MEANING,
               MIKE???

                                   ~Mary,
                                   My
                                   Mistake,
                                   Mostly
                                   Merriment,
                                   Merely
                                   Mischievous ;)

Mary,
Mike's
Mistake. . .

               -Mike's
               Manipulative
               Mansplaining—
               Misogynist!

                                   ~Meh. . .


© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.

I hate love my life so much
I wish it would just end go on infinite
If my entire life has been torture
My entire life has been beauty
Every waking moment pain bliss sleep
I can can't decipher or begin to explain
Yet I am forty eight words in.
Forever to end beginning tomorrow
I love with all my heart
I am dead inside.

I've a particular bias
against words that don't conform to the way
that appears beautiful to me

Works that are right-justified
or unjustified
or rhyme too much (or little)
even just using bold or italics

I'm amazed at how I call what I make poems
and therefore myself a poet
and find nearly no pleasure in most poetry

Might I be a bit too cold-hearted right now,
maybe a bit confused, lost and wandering...
I mean, decadence is definitely not easy,
face after face changes, nothing is still.

Who am I? Who are you?
I don't know and I don't care,
maybe I do, but it's inaudible...

Drifting, falling, drowning, fading,
waning, losing, slipping, laughing...?

I don't make sense,
I mean, I tried, but it all falls apart...

The chaos in my veins,
Rings loud in my ears,
Sinks numb into my brain,
Wrecks my heart with fear.

Too silent, too loud...
There's nothing that I can visualize.
Me? Who I am?
You? Who are you?
Place? To call home? My own??

Escape?
Who's the one that laughs so near?

©outcastdreamer

Thinking back on what went wrong,
I was wrong to think nothing was wrong.

9 pm in Cubao,
It was only my second bottle, but how come I can't recall whether I left the house just an hour ago?
Ah, I wanted to escape from the chaos that is the metro.
But I loathe this particular place, so why here again?
The record stores were even shut like they'll never open doors again.
That's another magical thing about vintage shops—they look hopeless except they're everything but.
But I'm half grateful, at least one less memory of this place are shut closed, too.
Though I am less woeful, knowing this is not just another equally less woeful night.
After the last bottle, I blew the city a kiss, bracing myself for the unfamiliar ride.
I've stopped counting the months in which I've been dying to see the sun rise by the beach and not by the concrete jungles of BGC.
I softly let go of all my uncertainties,
but holding onto the excitement firmly.
Oh, I can't wait much longer for the ocean breeze.