Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
We are repeating yet fleeting,
estranged remnants,
together alone.
It was the strangest feeling.
To be married.
To be  chosen.
To share life.
The one place
you are supposed to matter most
only to become a ghost.
To be forgotten.
To disappear
into the wallpaper and tapestry,
not in a woven way
but in a painted to look like it way.
And if you stay long enough,
no longer reflected in their eyes,
you will forget yourself too.
The dissolution of my geography.
My fault lines slowly became riddled with fissures
until one day the area between my *******
collapsed in to a sink hole.
I try to make a point in any relationship not to call names or threaten the relationship. I feel like if something occurs that makes you feel bad then you should talk about it. Things left unsaid create resentment. There are ways to communicate without having to make the other person feel like less. When respect and care are not given it chips away slowly at the other person.
reyftamayo Aug 2020
paano ko nga ba kinolekta
ang mga ala-ala?
sa piraso ng bato?
sa piraso ng kahoy o halaman?
siguro sa simoy ng hangin
at lasa ng pagkain?
hindi naman kaya
sa kalampag ng mga musika?
wala nga sigurong batayan
wala ring katapusan ang pagkolekta
ng mga ala-ala
nakagawian ko na itong gawin
noon pa
kaya kahit na ubos na
ang mga bato kahoy at halaman
kahit na said na ang bakas
sa simoy ng hangin
at lahat ng pagkain
manahimik man ang indayog ng musika
hangga't hindi pa nauubos
ang mga naipong lakas
na magdadala ng mga lipas na gunita
ng galit at takot
ng lungkot at tuwa
makababalik pa rin ako
saan man magpunta
Veritia Venandi Aug 2020
There is no real end to anything...
Every thing remains in bits and pieces...
Whether it be the remnants of fallen leaves or the ancient ruins of a castle...
The charcoal still emits a hint of amber... Even when the fire has died down...
The heart still beats the tune of the faint remembrance of a loved one...

Some things always remain in small bites thus...
Maybe in the hope of wanting to be awakened...once again!
It is a universal truth that we cannot put an end to anything... We can lessen the pain... Transport ourselves to a new world... But still the memories live on... And will forever!We just need to come in terms with them,accept them and move on...Just wanted to leave you with this thought! Thank you for reading this! ❤
Ariadne Jun 2020
I trace my hand across
the expanse of my skin;
trying to feel any
remnants of you.

My fingers automatically
on its own accord
to the ghosts of you.

Can you feel me?

I ache.
I beg.
I bargain.
I persist.
I breathe.

I hope, still.
My lungs literally stops breathing whenever a memory of you pops up. Please, take these away.
Ileana Amara Jun 2020
my heart was hammered a couple times,
of a few lovers who knew bittersweet crimes,
even with these remnants, I want to bet on uncertainty
I want to learn how to love again - fearlessly even in adversity.

Francesca Rose May 2020
Villain. You have stolen my grace.

When I poise myself to smile and simper, your bitter shadow fills my mouth and makes me shudder.
When I ascend the steps to my royal quarters, I trip on the memory of your presence by my side.
When I lay in bed, artfully sprawled across the velvet sheet, your forceful weight crushes my limbs and my lungs.
When my eyelids flutter shut, intent on transporting me to dream-land, all I see is your divine, ethereal face.
When I fall in love, I am eager to forget and begin anew with my sweet knight in disguise, but your crestfallen expression slows my pace.

I may be free of you and your enchantment, your enthralling spell, but by the gods, Villain - I couldn't protect it all, and so you have stolen my grace.
JK Cabresos Mar 2020
The remnants of memories
can be so addictive
like đ˜ĩ𝘩đ˜Ļ đ˜Žđ˜°đ˜°đ˜¯
𝘸đ˜ĸđ˜¯đ˜Ēđ˜¯đ˜¨ đ˜ĩ𝘩đ˜Ļ đ˜ĩđ˜Ēđ˜Ĩđ˜Ļ𝘴,
and you,
alone in dark place
𝘸đ˜Ēđ˜ĩ𝘩 𝘱đ˜ĸđ˜Ēđ˜¯đ˜§đ˜ļ𝘭 𝘴đ˜ĩ𝘰đ˜ŗđ˜Ēđ˜Ļ𝘴
đ˜ĩ𝘰 𝘩đ˜Ēđ˜Ĩđ˜Ļ,
longing to walk
by the shore,
to feel
đ˜ĩ𝘩đ˜Ļ 𝘸đ˜ĸđ˜ŗ𝘮 đ˜Ļ𝘮đ˜Ŗđ˜ŗđ˜ĸ𝘤đ˜Ļ
𝘰𝘧 đ˜ĩ𝘩đ˜Ļ đ˜Ŗđ˜ŗđ˜Ļđ˜Ļđ˜ģđ˜Ļ,
to listen
đ˜ĩ𝘩đ˜Ļ 𝘮đ˜Ļ𝘭đ˜ĸđ˜¯đ˜¤đ˜Šđ˜°đ˜­đ˜Ē𝘤 𝘴𝘰đ˜ļđ˜¯đ˜Ĩ
𝘰𝘧 đ˜ĩ𝘩đ˜Ļ 𝘸đ˜ĸ𝘷đ˜Ļ𝘴
until the dawning light
appears before your eyes,
to find an escape
for you are caught
đ˜Ēđ˜¯ đ˜ĩ𝘩đ˜Ļ 𝘮đ˜Ēđ˜Ĩđ˜Ĩ𝘭đ˜Ļ
𝘰𝘧 đ˜ĩ𝘩đ˜Ļ 𝘰𝘤đ˜Ļđ˜ĸđ˜¯
đ˜ĸđ˜¯đ˜Ĩ đ˜ĩ𝘩đ˜Ļ 𝘴đ˜Ŧđ˜ē.
Copyright Šī¸ 2020
Aquila Jan 2020
I suspect,
that my essence
was never meant
for such love.
all along,
all alone.

and thus I remain.
Next page