#randomthought
Hi
Hello
Hey
It's me
I'm calling
I need you
Can you hear me?
Come talk to me
I love you
Goodnight my love
Apr 9, 2021
Apr 9, 2021 at 2:20 AM UTC
Let’s me see things clearer
Than what my bare eyes would let me
Brings far off images nearer
Makes it easier to understand what there be
Does away with haze in my vision, as well my ‘thinker’
Accompanies me as a guide I see
as a friend who’s dear
brings fulfillment and glee.
To help figure
Life's mystery
I put it on thee
look at the mirror
Start my day with cuppa tea
Tryna be positive hereafter
I call myself me
Jan 13, 2021
Jan 13, 2021 at 8:42 AM UTC
are you still buying?
are you still buying
your tears and the sobs
from the movies and the tags;
are you still selling?
are you still selling
your highs and the lows
to the poems and the prose.
Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 6:39 AM UTC
do you ever feel like you’re not the same as you used to be?
you changed... you’re not the little girl that runs around the street, that laugh at simple things, that cry over some toys, that throw tantrums whenever you feel like it
you changed... you’re not the girl who hangs out with friends every weekends; maybe even weekdays, who spends money to useless stuff you don’t even need, who befriends everyone to be considered part of the society, who tells lie to be able to hang out and be part of their so called group
you changed... you’re not the girl who cries over some random guys, who chased over undeserving guy, who get swooned over sugar coat words, who get played at, who get used at
you changed... you’re not the girl who remained silent, the girl who doesn’t fight for the right, who don’t share her wonderful thought, who doesn’t speaks for herself
you changed... you’re a woman now; who speaks her mind, who will stand for what is right, who will never let anyone brings her down
you changed for the better but why does it feel so wrong?
you’re not used to it
you can’t get used to it
but it’s for the better
so you blocked all those useless thoughts, those words that pains your heart and mind, you blocked every painful whispers you get... because you know that’s the only way for you to get better
and you need better; not for someone else but for yourself
—msy
Jul 2, 2019
Jul 2, 2019 at 9:01 AM UTC
One of the worst things I could have done
Is blame you for all of the things you couldn't have known.
Instead of telling you I always figured that you've known all of these things.
Forgetting that you too, are human.
Putting on this front that we aren't as vulnerable as we seem.
Knowing all of the things that I keep from you.
I realized my mistake only when it was too late.
Revealing to you all the things that I thought you knew.
The things you couldn't have known.
How your name drives me insane soon as I hear it.
Staring across from you embracing every moment.
These things not often said not knowing how you'd react.
If you'd really see how important you are
One of the worse things I could have done.
Separating these same feelings in the blink of an eye.
Not knowing if you truly felt the same as I.
Twisting myself in half not realizing how whole you made me.
Instead of telling you I always figured that you've known all of these things.
I love the way you look at me.
The nonchalant way you'd often speak.
Putting on this front that we aren't as vulnerable as we seem.
How I crumble at the chance I didn't pull you closer.
Too few gaps left to fill.
Instead of telling you I always figured that you've known all of these things.
All of the things I wanted to do.
All of the things I wanted to say.
The weight of cookies that sit on a shelf.
Often suffocate while no one watches
Never knowing the feeling of being in love.
They often crumble
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 8:09 AM UTC
Just because it's suggested doesn't make it right.
In the hands of teachers, other staff.
What other purpose could this directly serve.
To defend our institutions.
To further endanger those around.
The knowledge instilled from book to teacher a different practice.
Now holstered, hidden in the drawer of a desk.
What goes through the mind of the victim that's been bullied.
What training can be set in place to stop the next bulletin.
Shooting across the screen.
The kid in 10th grade that carries the weight of the world.
Sitting all day staring out the window.
Mother in hospice.
A fragile thought swallowed by deafening silence.
It no longer becomes a listening session of encouragement.
The after school sessions of comfort sped up.
Another bulletin of hysteria fired across the screen.
Teacher student affair.
15 year old student found with 42 year old man.
When in reality she was seeking help due to a troubled home.
Afraid to sleep knowing the door would creep open.
Leaving her terrified to close her eyes. The relationship between step daughter and father without boundary.
Where's the specialty training for those who care.
The proper resources that extend beyond that of a pamphlet.
The dark skin kids that's made fun of because they look different.
Stereotyped as aggressive.
The dope boys, the baby mamas.
The light skin girl that's made to feel inferior because she turns red with every hit.
Her hair is longer than theirs so she wants to cut it.
Aggressively forgetting all the beauty she possesses.
The active shooter managing to make it pass the metal detectors.
Rallying the attention he didn't get at home.
The debate carries on across every wall except the right ones
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 11:33 AM UTC
Let's make some time.
Time for you and I to leap past
Anything other than transcendent.
A vacation other than what we see day in and day out.
To lick our lips in awe.
Awe of how many times we've passed each other.
Never thinking the sun to shine as beautiful as it has against your eye.
Our lips water in infatuation.
A substitution to the emptiness we walk pass on a daily basis.
Stepping outside of the ordinary.
A fluid motion
Laughing at random moments.
The thing's kept in our heads brought to life in a smile.
Status quo of moving pass sitting still.
Seeing you with new eyes,
Shapes & colors.
An intersection of skin travelled by happy eyes.
Open, full.
The sensation of going somewhere new.
The butterflies no longer sit at the stop sign.
Checking both ways before pulling out.
Moving beyond the end of the street
Without the feeling that something is missing.
When you get the chance,
Let's make some time for you and I.
With no intent on arriving,
Whatever destination we set.
Let's make time just to make time
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
Nonetheless
I refer to you and frankly I cannot stop.
I once heard a gypsy sing not anything of this world.
I doubt her song was for me.
Nonetheless
I referred to her almost immediately.
Unapologetically removing myself from conclusion.
Frankly I just love hearing her talk.
Going from place to place.
Retrospection
It's very likely I never once moved.
Referring to her for immediate assistance.
Establishing chair in wait.
Youthful eyes wild & free.
Unable to tame the sunset.
Her sense of freedom.
Not anything of this world
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 10:32 PM UTC
Through many misadventures.
It's you I seek.
Climbing the many stairs that lead me to my goal.
It's never enough.
Through the laterals of vault jumps.
Through the brick and mortar of red paths.
I still see them when I close my eyes.
No matter how terrified I am.
I still make that jump for you.
Finding all the traces you've been.
The worn soles of the many miles I've traveled.
My self put to the side.
I find the many seeds that we've planted.
Once beautiful, now overgrown to the point that they no longer fit in regular pots.
Without you there's no reason to toil around anymore.
The ghosts of who we use to be wait behind every corner.
Confronting me everytime I turn my back.
Still it's you that I seek.
Finding my own personal hell.
Fire breathing dragon included.
I've tried to hide myself behind my work to no avail.
It follows me everywhere I go.
The inter-workings of my mind.
I've found myself hanging on a string.
Time after time.
Bridges that I've crossed getting from point A to B.
The growth that's essential to make it to the next stage.
The sound of coins no longer entices.
Facing my fears in the hope of reaching you again.
Finding a better me.
The final ax to the head of the fire breathing dragon that guards you closely.
In the end to find that this closet I keep my fears.
Has turned to another castle.
With another dragon.
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 5:00 PM UTC
Due to popular belief. I believe that certain things are due to happen naturally.
Like all other things it's bound to grow. This thing, love.
We are due to become obese to this organic, homegrown feeling.
The initial look that begins as taste. Naturally we are starved.
Aroused by the scent that lures us close. This thing, love.
One thing we must learn is self control. To not over indulge in the primary reason it exists.
To selfishly take because it's there. This thing, love.
Effort exudes as it becomes habit. Being placed at a table readily available for what portion comes next.
This need becomes confused with want.
To please others before our need in unselfish manner. A straight forward response to habit.
The rising availability of also being taken for granted. The insurmountable outline that defines lust.
Our intake becomes higher attempting to justify the difference. Thus we become lazy.
Reacting in ways we normally wouldn't. This thing, love.
This scent acts as incentive, instantly attracted by which we over indulge.
Searching for this thing, love.
It's a reasonable thing. Knowing when to reach. When to pull. When to give and sacrifice.
Almost always all of these happen, learning self control, vocalizing when we've had our fill.
Else we will continue to eat until there is nothing left.
Grown obese. This thing, love
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
Sometimes I miss you.
The music from the speakers the only thing to fill the blanks of a rotating fan.
The rhythm to ease the silence.
Remembrance of how you sound,
Sometimes I miss you.
Negating myself with quick tugs & pulls.
I hang at your leisure.
Drawn to life at the rise of your head
I am lost without you
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 3:11 AM UTC
I fell in love by the shore.
Nose wide open.
In a cool curve I felt a ripple of bliss.
Through my eyes I followed every motion.
Every gleam that shown through vibrant hue.
The echo of true loves kiss.
Like that I became hooked.
A sharp pain coming from my jaw.
To be pulled in a direction that wasn't my own.
I panicked.
The more I fought, the stronger the pull got.
My jaw stung with every tug.
I was at a loss for words.
Finding it hard to breathe.
Each gasp deeper than the next.
I was lured by the same shore I loved from afar.
The bitter pinch I believed to be love at first sight.
No longer able to breathe.
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 3:10 PM UTC
I caught you in the corner of my eye.
If only you could read my mind.
The sweet notations I selfishly hold.
I'd like to think that I've caught you.
Displacing myself in every other word you say.
If you've ever noticed my eyes as close as they are now.
The intimacy of being held close.
Secret longing.
The swift pace that eyes move.
Catching you in the corner of my eye.
On the border of each blink.
Temptation, the watering of eyes.
Terrified to close.
Terrified that when they open you'll be gone.
Having to chase and catch you all over again
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 9:56 AM UTC
I gave you my heart when no one was looking.
The time taken to realize how mature we've become.
I fooled myself into believing substitutes are better than substance.
None of this was true.
Giving perspective to how I sought what I already have.
What I gave was vital.
Exchanging hands while no one looked.
A different insight to what we digested.
How well we perceive.
Learning to be patient while everything around moves.
I gave you my heart when no one was looking
Because it is something that is not easily obtained.
To show a side of me that no one else sees.
Over by the table while no one was looking because what's between us
should stay between us.
I waited until no one was looking as people do things out of spite.
Disguising my heart in a red solo cup.
Careful not to spill a single drop
handing you this cup.
How careful your lips were.
The assumption that forever has an interchangeable appearance.
It was never about what I could buy you.
The exciting places I could take you.
Sure these things come with time,
But the experience of experience itself.
Is what I obsessed with until the very moment.
The momentary happiness material things bring never lasts.
Just as the cup is disposable.
It's the contents that are most fragile.
Cleverly disguised due to our environment.
I felt at ease.
Giving this piece of me to you.
Not of fear.
Not of shame.
This warmth shared in personal awareness.
Your tastebuds the only witness to
What's kept between you and I.
The rest of the party carried on.
While no one was looking we created our own playlist.
Songs beginning with you and I.
Nothing digested ever stays put
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 4:14 PM UTC
When I walked in I didn't know what to expect.
Each room highlighted in light.
A oral tradition. To make ourselves at home upon request.
In reciprocation we do.
The rooms we gather in, the ones we walk past.
The objects we fill to take up space.
The rooms a clear reflection of Spring.
The molding painted white.
I was told that some rooms are not to be visited.
Everything has it's season and this isn't one of them.
Placing blame on the rooms.
I want to explore them most I said.
The ones that go unseen.
The things we rarely shine light to.
The places films of dust continue to grow.
These are some of the best places to go.
The beauty of things we walk past day to day.
The smile unknown destinations can bring.
Cultivating the ideas we keep cluttered.
Gasping for air.
These are the rooms I want to explore most.
The parts of you that you strictly keep to yourself.
Only when you are comfortable to share these rooms with me.
To kiss the floor with our feet.
To dwell in the past staring into our future.
We are the pendulums trapped inside the clock
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 12:10 AM UTC
Having to forget you is a misconception.
I understand that things happen and these things we often have no control over.
Consequence.
Watching the boat leave it's pier is one of the most beautiful things.
My honest opinion.
The beginning of new experience.
The sensation of watching the odds disperse wave after wave.
Love happens.
It hurts a bit.
Being gone so long.
Docking other places, under different lights.
Finding that every city has a different sound.
A different smell.
It hurts knowing that you've docked somewhere new.
The same flow of emotion parted by the hull of your coming.
A new home.
A new place to rest your fears.
It takes courage to open up.
Thick ropes tied in knots.
An ever changing world.
More advances made in the world of travel.
How we get from point A to B.
It doesn't mean that I don't miss you.
Leaving my rope on the dock of the harbor.
Free to come and go as you please.
Having to watch my boat sail away.
The chance of knowing you may never return.
The same intimacy we shared given to someone else.
It's the same understanding that hurts tenfold.
Knowing these changes must be made in order to progress.
Going out on the town to find myself back here waiting for your return.
Relating to the tears of the ocean.
A new experience we both separately share.
The nights spent alone in wait.
The pier lined up with different ships and boats.
None of which are never you.
It's impossible not to miss you.
Holding on to your beauty, grace.
Waiting for my ship to return.
Knowing that it will never happen
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 4:42 PM UTC
And like broken glass
The secrets intensify.
The vulnerability of time.
Both beautiful and sad.
The sound of broken glass.
Despite how beautiful the shards sparkle.
Despite time.
You'll never know what's on it's mind.
Hand to glass.
The prints left behind to be washed away.
The memories no more.
How can something so precious be replaced for another.
Thrown away without second thought.
It's cruel, unjust.
No explanation other than physical appearance.
The unhealthiest to cope.
The necessity of momentary need.
Another glass set in it's place.
To feel needed in a moment of thirst.
How we feel about the things we have.
Until we realize the one thing we need.
Almost too late
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 11:23 PM UTC
To a point of trust.
There is no such barrier as insecurity.
In over one hundred pictures you are free to do as you please.
Intuition doesn't lie.
A sudden sensation that strikes out the blue.
Theres no need for passwords or indiscreet glances.
A rare case trust comes into question.
A certain closure that adjusts to a overwhelming thought.
A sudden reach or pull confirms this serious accusation.
Things change.
A subtle glance to remember the way things use to be.
In over one hundred different pictures I witnessed your body language begin to change.
In over one hundred different ways you hid pieces of yourself behind a password.
In a world where we are free to do as we please.
You decided to hide yourself.
Second guessing that truth would never find the light.
Appearing against the phone of a random stranger.
Another secret.
A light to peek through the crevice
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 11:20 PM UTC
My heart is your second home.
Waiting for you to get home after a long day of work.
Drive up the pathway of eyes and park.
I'll be looking behind the blinds.
Talking to you the whole while.
Pass the trees of every heart throb.
The sun inching further down.
Our moods the opening of the door.
I am hoping that you take tomorrow off.
You've had a long day and I completely understand.
Even if you have to leave, don't forget you always have a home here.
Where you are always welcome.
Where there are no bills, no worldly stress.
The depth of how we communicate.
Always there to welcome you back
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 8:41 PM UTC
To be in love.
Her heart was a hill that I climbed with slippery soles.
To be still in the moments of encouragement.
I'd slide down unable to catch my footing.
I acknowledge that I wasn't dressed for the occasion.
Still persisting to climb.
To be in love.
The valley of dream & hope.
I tied my shoes tighter.
My hands filled with grit and grass.
No matter how hard I tried I constantly slid down.
The sky a beautiful mix of orange and blue.
Her love was a sight I longed to see.
The meadow to low to catch the best view.
Everything she has to offer.
I tossed through mud and dirt.
Learning patience in every attempt, the closer I got.
She'd open her arms wide.
And each time I'll fall face first.
Still determined I didn't cease to stop.
I spent a lot of time there.
Lost in a valley of fog.
To afraid to ask for help.
Scared that my secret valley would no longer be my own.
That everything serene.
Everything that I loved would be modernized, torn apart piece by piece.
No matter how many times I slip.
No matter how many times I fall.
I love everything ,
Still persisting to climb.
Learning patience with each step
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
At last, the truth came out.
I was an accessory to her outfit.
The many plastic bands that dangle against her wrist.
She was into fashion.
The appearance of how things look.
She placed more above me.
The beginning.
Lost in the reflection they'd give.
This false perception of how she'd feel inside.
She'd sit and fidget.
Checking her reflection on the screen of her phone.
Unable to differentiate who was who.
Another attachment left to sit on the dresser.
Laced in things to compensate what's missing.
The face of her phone cracked
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 7:55 PM UTC
I legit never knew the beauty black roses possess.
I stared at one day after day.
She looked like she didn't want to be bothered.
Still she'd look and stare.
She grew differently than the red ones.
Prepackaged, given to others in mass quantity.
She'd sit alone and read amongst herself.
With arched eyebrows and shapely dress.
Most were afraid of her thorns. Despite all the beauty she possessed inside.
They only saw her outside.
Reason her thorns were so sharp.
The misconception that she was to be feared.
When in reality they protected her.
They made her to think that she was ugly.
The red roses that surrounded.
They'd bunch around her in fear of their own self conscious.
Attempting to stop her smile.
The more they tried, the more she stood out.
Grounded in her faith she grew out of her insecurity.
Being the regal beauty that she was.
Realizing the heroine she searched was inside her the whole time.
Her petals testimony to her root.
When I spoke she cheerfully replied with a smile.
I walked by day after day
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 6:19 PM UTC
She offered me a glass of water from the tap.
Delighted by the fact I happily accepted.
This wasn't like anything I've ever tasted.
I've never had Evian but I'd bottle it the same.
This particular taste wasn't accompanied by anything sour.
A strange taste that makes your face scrunch.
Before I knew it I drunk the glass whole.
Fiji water is an acquired taste.
But all in all I still enjoyed it.
I asked for another glass, feeling each ripple swish around my mouth.
All water doesn't taste the same and this by far.
The best water I ever tasted.
Ice included.
Fogging the outside of the glass.
Fingerprints forever stained.
If I was a fish I'd be in heaven.
The correctness of solely something to become apart of.
The importance that signifies how great this is.
The human tongue is an amazing thing.
Enjoying the spring water that flows directly from the well of your heart
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
Upon reading I stopped.
Savoring this touch.
I serached for narrative, your voice becoming my imagination.
I made this read much longer than intended.
Rereading each page minutes after the initial first.
We both paused.
Stumbling over each period.
Passage after passage the last chapter revealing just how beautiful everything is.
With neither joy or pain canceling each other out, both are necessary.
A paper cut made in haste.
Just as telling.
The intense angle each word represents.
The physical manifestation of not being able to move my eyes from the page.
Loud noises created in silence.
It seems real. Its chaos.
Four seasons coming into one.
This is life.
At least for me.
Rereading each volatile word finding vulnerability.
A sudden fear that rises.
A response that I over analyze in simplicity.
You write and I read.
A deeper motivation that isn't fear at all.
The pages collapsing in recommendation.
The intimate truth of holding everything in.
The cover hesitant of letting go.
All awaiting permission
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 1:18 AM UTC