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Leocardo Reis Jun 2021
During the time
in between
my two most recent mosquito bites,
we had met
and you had left.
Tonight,
I pensively trace over
the brim of the
first mosquito bite of the year,
reminiscing.
Sa Weol May Apr 2021
People whom I used to be my favorite
when I was a child,
They treat me to places I never requested but I loved,
I rant and got mad when things I wanted
doesn't come around

I miss the alphabet charts,
my mom taught me a lot,
She keeps so many foods in the fridge
told me she will give me one for the right answer,
beat my hands to make my cursive writings right.

I miss my elementary days,
way back to when the rain is still predictable
as well as my dad,
I know he's already on his way,
driving a bicycle cab
with a raincoat I don't like to wear in his hand
going to me,
I'm ashamed, my classmates might laugh at me.

As time flows in my life,
too much wisdom creates a vast space for sadness in my heart,
Maybe I didn't learn how to use it wisely,
Now I get lonely oftentimes
without knowing the roots why it's crawling up.

Now I know there are beatings that aren't meant to hurt,
I learned to dance the pen on a messed paper,
spilled every words in right position.

Now I know why I should wear that coat on,
Rains are beautiful yet we should not be fooled,
they sometimes become bullets
while coats are bullet proofs.

Now that I get older,
I regret I didn't look back well
to when I used to be a kid
just spinning myself in happiness
brought by the smallest things
I don't appreciate that much now.

-A.M.
tayo Mar 2021
Why they run, I do not know.
Neither can I begin to ponder.
Race to life, love or leisure.


@incognitaio
this is about the hustle of life. Race to life from the moment of birth, race to love and finding meaning. race to leisure and fulfilment.
tayo Mar 2021
"Eyes, once full of hope and lofty dream, Now stare at passer-by,  all

rheumy eyed. Gait of the man that once was. Like a sign post, saying:

Here!, 'how I do not want to be when I am grown"
...

@incognitaio
Borne out of the fear of ever getting to the point where I will not be able to take care of responsibilities. The fear of failure and/or being ordinary.
tayo Mar 2021
To that first strand of Grey....

That pointer to agedness.
Bridge between cradle and grave.
Fine line between ode and dirge.
It is wisdom. It is senility.
Subtle reminder to how on earth, we are briefly gorgeous.
That first strand of grey.

@incognitaio
This I wrote the first time I noticed the very first strand of grey in my beard. It was a surreal experience.
Melody Mann Feb 2021
She pours her soul into his void
hoping to earn space in the suitcase he's made of his life.

She watches the nights turn to day as their conversations melt the hours away,
learning to embrace the imperfections he's paved his path out of.

Boarding his flight he leaves her astray,
Leaving but a final kiss upon a broken promise for a future now dismay.  

If in the twilight of memory he meets her once more,
she will sing to him a deeper song.
Musafir is a word in Urdu meaning Traveler.
How beautiful the light emitted by the sun as it sets is
I remember we used to watch it together
Say the obvious word "Awww" all the time
Everyday felt really worth having
Those memories kinda make me ask what went wrong
grace snoddy Jan 2021
our love was the morning sky
courageously pink and quietly blue
seemingly everlasting and sincere
daring, to say the least

our love was the sounds of chicago
trains rumbling and music thumping
people talking, cars mumbling
us walking, hand in hand

i cant seem to get you out of my head

our love was us naively believing in each other
us sitting in my room, or yours
our bodies molded together like clay
and our souls embracing each other
in the comforting atmosphere
alongside the setting sky
framed by the window

our love was our favorite movies and shows
and the late nights we embarked on
watching every single one of them
our tired eyes and tired beings
resting on each other

and i now find it funny,
because in those loving moments,
i remember thinking
“i dont want these memories to fade”,
“i dont want our love to disappear”,

and now im desperately holding onto
whatever visual resides in my head,
your face is getting blurry,
your voice is becoming hazier,
my heart is sinking deeper
as all the colors mix into
the darkened hue of sadness
that is your departure

our love is this song
that rings in my ears late at night
it posseses a beautiful and humbling,
yet terrifyingly isolative melody
as my heart and mind conjoin
to accept this new reality

i will love you forever
as your ghost remains in my head
but everyday i cant help but wonder
“what could we have done, instead?”
mina Dec 2020
I write stories about love;
while you are there to read them.
I smell hard copies of bondpapers and graphite;
While your eyes were fixed on digital graphics
I’m obsessed on taking pictures;
While you are already contented by them on mind.
One day, Cupid take his role and
Our hidden strings started to connect
No one could explain the things behind this magic;
The love we both feel and its extremities--
The uncertainties despite of each other’s promises
Without our names, who are we?
Are we that Ying and Yang that are meant to be?
Or the typical love stories
Sweet, steamy, and paradise at first;
But bitter, regretting, and painful at the end?
hiii! this is the first poem that i've posted here after weeks of hesistance and lack of confidence with my writing prompts. nevertheless, i am trying to cope them! i'm looking forward for more poems to read in this community, and also sharing more of mine! thank you so much <333
J Dec 2020
I listened to a song that reminded me of my mother today,
but also that reminded me of me,
but also made me think of Sydney
though I won't talk about that,
I suggest listening to it.
Or simply looking at the lyrics.
White Trash Beautiful by Everlast.
I say that it reminds me of my mother, but it
mostly reminds me of my childhood.
Childhood car rides,
specifically from home,
maybe late at night.
She played things like this
and Metallica,
I was raised on everything, really.
I was raised on the musical staff.
When I was younger,
9 was late
so the stars and trees and clouds and world that passed by
so quick at night when I was sure
a monster would swallow our car
seemed to simply protect us
and the thumping of the stereo,
her hard, glazed over eyes locking on the road in front of us,
I dozed in and out of consciousness.
the song.
reminded me of the way people release their issues
in the music that they make
or that they listen to.
My mother drowned out her
failing marriage
drug addictions
and her mental illnesses
and me
and everything else,
with music
and alcohol
and more drugs
and more men, the kind that
couldn't keep their hands to themselves
those kinds of men.
There were songs by Everlast that just
made sense
to her
and I never
really
understood, I mean, I
was as a toddler, why would I?
I had too much going on in my kid mind,
I'm sure.
but I get it so much now.
I also recommend
What it's like which is also by Everlast
Because I get that, too, more than
I think
most.
the song
I was talking about first
isn't supposed to be bad, right
I think it's mostly the music
that reminds me of my mother-
of my childhood with my mother.
I try not to think
about things like that too much.
but I promised to try and start opening up more.
I don't know why I did this
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