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Gi 1d
One for my heart
One for my body
One for my soul
I have a serious question here
That my friends refuse to answer.
Am I the kind of person
That people don't want to be around?
I'm tired of pretending
I have to be someone else
in order for people to like me.
Where is the one person
that I can be myself around?
our bodies held
conversations
better than
we ever could
Your scent on my pillow
Your whispers -  imaginary
Lips so soft as a marshmallow
Your touch -  legendary

Your reflection next to mine
Clear waters, breeze and chimes
All felt great, all was fine
You were my angel, you were mine
Paul Idiaghe Sep 3
the pillow hearts me redder than you do,
      crowns my dreams regal over murky lands,
from somber realms to the wake of blue;

into her clasp, my wingless wishes skew,
      as her cuddle bids two ears to my demands,
oh, the pillow hearts me redder than you do;

she seethes my mind, till dreams vapor thru’
          the sky, bodies pitching, wings for hands,
from somber realms to the wake of blue;

they gnaw unto the moon, shave its bare into
     mirrors, reflecting the truth, so I understand
that the pillow hearts me redder than you do;

in her cradle, dismal storms I can't subdue
      so she showers the sorrow out of my glands
from somber realms to the wake of blue;

and when my barrels empty, floods issue
   upon her, but she stems peace from her sands
for the pillow hearts me redder than you do,
from somber realms to the wake of blue.
raquezha Aug 4
Nadangog ko na naman
An pagbagting kan saiyang púsò
Garo baga igwang nagkakasulô
Pinukaw an pagmati kong nag-aarabadab
Ngunyan na banggi
Hahalaton ko an saiyang pagdungáw
Sa sakuyang bentana
Ika an sakuyang kometa
Na hali pa sa ibang planeta
Ika an ráson kun tàno
mapúngay an sakuyang mata
Dai ko mahali an saiyang gira sa buhay ko
Ngunyan na banggi
Tabangan mo akong makaturog
Ibahan mo ako sa madiklom na kinaban
Tabangan mo akong labanan an mga demonyo
Hahalaton ko an pagbagsak mo
Sa ulonán ko.

—𝐔𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧, a Bikol poetry.
1. https://www.instagram.com/p/CDeSSXcHb3y/
romy Jul 29
The hair on my pillow isn't mine
I still think of how fast time went by
Your side of the bed remains intertwined
with hopeful tears and tainted smiles

Sleepless nights, unsung lullabies
faint memories kept in photographs
with the sun in my eyes
and freckled-cheeks wrinkled by endless laughs

My candy-coated nightmares of you
dancing with monsters and angels
singing with the devil
interrupted by your hair on my pillow
HYA Jul 15
bury them in my pillow,
the memories we can't boast;
maybe they'll replay in my sleep
and i can have you again

through nights like this, i hide myself
and get lost inside the maze i create
i then destroy for the very sake of a goal in mind—
to feel the pain, no, to let it out at last
i don't know if i am talking to a person or to my little feeling called despair
The Tears on My Pillow,
are having a sad story to Tell.
All Night long I was Crying,
at the place in which I Dwell.
There were Tears of Pain
and Tears of Sorrow.
A few spelling out....to Me,
There's no Tomorrow.
Some Tears that poured,
we're too hard to Hide.
As they were buried
too deep, deep Inside.
Alas the Tears that,
always make Me Smile.
Haven't appeard on Me,
for quite a While.
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