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#sadderdaze
i love like a mangled dog, rummaging through the grimiest corners for some sort of semblance of tranquility disguised as chaos fangs constantly bared but ceaselessly yearning to be a subject of someone’s affection tell me, how do i stop loving like this? contorted. star-eyed. gullible. tell me, how do i stop being loved with anything but love? until then, i’ll still wait for you by the porch tied on a leash too close to my pulse. i’ll keep on waiting. (when) are you coming back? are you coming back?
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Jun 20, 2023
Jun 20, 2023 at 8:00 AM UTC
to bite the hand that feeds you
i want to make a poem about how much i yearn for you and for the moments and time lost in the wind. but the words refuse to come out; it drags itself up to my throat and just hangs there. it just hangs there, kept and caged in the crevices of my mind. perhaps it hurts too much to write because the pain becomes real; and it becomes terrifying.
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Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 12:10 PM UTC
things i could have said
these days feel so abundantly empty; i have become absolutely enamored with the way our silence lulls us to sleep; embracing each other's warmth and company. but, alas, such bitter fate. now, i try to fill the void with mindless chatters but it all remains futile. everything hurts without you.
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Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 11:04 AM UTC
two-seven
and then i saw you again; the silence between us became painful.
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Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 7:37 AM UTC
bitterness of silence
you are more than just dusted "i love you's" you are the sun, setting down, assuring me of the little questions i have within me. you cradle the zephyr that i carry on my burdened shoulders and i watch as you let it crumble on your deific palms as every modicum of doubt disappears.
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Jan 15, 2020
Jan 15, 2020 at 1:55 PM UTC
CONGRUENCE.
the warmth, lingering, i could breathe for a moment and then you left me.
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Nov 21, 2019
Nov 21, 2019 at 9:34 PM UTC
SUMMER REVERSED
the nights devoid of holiness always seemed to find itself tangled with the crestfallen visage always plastered on mine. a close acquaintance of mine would be the moon-- glimmering and illuminating the regrets and mistakes emblazoned deeply onto every fibre of my being. my dreaded moment has come-- the clock made itself known; reverberating through the fragile threshold i dared to call my home. once more, it made me a fool for believing i could be liberated from this labyrinth.
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Nov 21, 2019
Nov 21, 2019 at 9:21 PM UTC
WARPED.
our naked silence & honey kiss were nothing to him he will curse our empty love with a bittersweet word and you let it **** us.
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Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 12:36 PM UTC
crestfallen
would it be selfish of me to ask for more than sneaky glances here and there? mouths desperate to form sentences to confabulate with you but i rebel against my own body, incorrigible mutters bolting its way out of my lips. would it be selfish of me to ask for more than an hour to spend with you? eyebrows knitting together in confusion as you laugh about matters of the heart, looking through me with perceptive eyes and i try not to look away. but fate has a terrible affinity for separating the two of us, so i wish we werent back to square one but that would be wistful thinking.
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Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 9:31 AM UTC
WISTFULNESS ON THE 26TH
i hate talking to myself about you. i hate crafting poetic idioms and metaphors that only remind me of walking through endless hallways, hoping to find the exodus of everything. i hate counting the stars on the firmament above — i know i will always lose count but i will always count back to the beginning. i hate visualizing sceneries that seem to say frozen in front of me: two shadows falling on each other to fill the empty spaces but the gap will never cease to exist. i absolutely despise writing about the curves of your lips but my mind cannot fathom how deeply besotted i am with you. so i turn you into poetry — because i cannot have you in any other way.
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Jul 16, 2019
Jul 16, 2019 at 10:28 PM UTC
THE THINGS THAT I HATE
your name will forever linger on my mouth, immeshing the dust within the fragile pages of a literary classic. “my eyes were dazed by you for a little, and that was all.” you saunter freely with romantic words i cannot grasp and call as ours. my love for you seeps out of the vintage texts— unfinished; refusing to fill out the blanks and questions. in vain — that’s what all it was. no more, no less.
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Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 6:55 AM UTC
THE SECOND ATTEMPT
i fancy using flamboyant words. "you make me feel like **** shifts into "you have left me in such a state of perplexity that even i can absolutely not comprehend." "i am heartbroken" turns into "the existence of pain and longing makes itself wont to the confines of my heart, making a home out of it.” "i hate you" morphs into "a surfeit of sentiments fill the pail to the brim, i could only make sense of abhorrence clinging onto my head." every time i wear my heart on my sleeve, misery emerges from the shadows and torments me -- i cannot be liberated from the never-ending loop of misfortunes. i yearn that these bitter emotions diminish into nothingness until not even an iota of thought could mar me. i yearn that these senseless cluster of letters find their way back to you-- just as it should be.
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Jul 5, 2019
Jul 5, 2019 at 1:56 AM UTC
guillotine of words
id like to think that you never left id like to think that i didnt hear the reverberation of the door closing in on the two of us. ive made a fort out of unwanted memories i desperately try to keep at bay but they keep on calling out to me like it was a graveyard reaching for victims bewitched by consternation broken mirrors, mangled sheets, drive thrus in the ungodly hours, awkward silences, cut outs of what we shared together — those things could never compare with how i feel so at home with another being's body before all my life, all i ever did was give such tumultuous love and receive none of it back. so id like to pretend even though i am constantly marred by reality.
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Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 1:56 PM UTC
PLAY PRETEND
i have learned to love in silence — eyes no more than just a glance, arms engulfing my frail stature, fingers grazing your flesh, lips knitted tightly so not to speak of how irrevocable i could love. this quaint affection which i give to you was returned by no more than just hushed confabulations and regret. and so i learn to love in silence — for you are much more of an art from afar that i do not dare wish to taint you with my mere nothingness. for i cannot speak of how i would toss and turn in the dead of the night, wishing of what could have been; how i am besotted with your existence painted in bright and vibrant tints. loving in silence had become a matter that my heart is wont to do and not an ounce of surprise rushes to me when i hear nothing but the soft zephyr.
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Apr 14, 2019
Apr 14, 2019 at 12:31 PM UTC
IN SILENCE.
there was a girl who cried wolf; it echoes from the hollows of crevices until it inevitably comes back to her -- it only welcomes her with silence. and i stand there and watch as she continues to cry wolf. the river - gushing, flowing, full of life - it stops to listen to her wishes. the wind - withdraws from crafting a tempest and stills. planted in my own roots, i sit and hear her howls of desperation. now, sans woe bellows from her sunken cheeks, frail body clad in loneliness. a ghost of a smile marrs her rose-colored face. "liberated," she said, "i wish to be liberated."
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Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 11:33 PM UTC
cry wolf
this is what it feels like to love you; its almost as if im a meager child waiting by the windowsill, leaving parts of myself i thought i didnt need anymore, yet as days and nights flash before my eyes, i wonder if this is how i dreamt to be when i tuck myself to sleep. its almost as if im walking in the darkness with nothing to guide me but my own foolishness, grasping at any broken material just to keep me from falling — yet much to my own dismay, i lie here in the cold floor – mangled and barren. and i ponder; is the universe trying to keep us together or apart? this is what it felt like to love you; just as how icarus loved the sun.
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Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 11:45 PM UTC
love, icarus, and the sun
when i am with you, i feel particles of myself slowly sweep away until i am no more than an empty entity of existence. instead, i am a melancholic siren; consternation constanly emerges from the salty ocean i baptize myself in to rid myself of the blood of agony on my lips. sailors enchanted by the wicked melody i speak of; eyes closed shut, listening closely to the languages my mouth formed; demise imbuing their eyes for this sonata is bewitching yet atrocious. yet you pay no heed to my woes, even after the nights transitioned into light years; i call for you, you dare not look back at me; for i looked just like everybody else, just another mistaken identity.
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Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 10:40 AM UTC
epiphany of sirens
yearning for something i desire; what lies beneath the ivory duvet when the rays of the sun spares a shy glance around the nook and cranny of your room; hands aching to lace around yours; waiting to taste sweet you, bitterness slowly creeping up to its own demise, this is why the maidens sung their hearts out to accompany the grieving tremors that shook the faulty edges we had built, atop of guilt and uncertainties. flustered sheets scattered on the floor, pieces of myself i can no longer get back to whilst a gaping hole greeting my own eyes held a fragment of truth and silence. ( this is not my home; this is the apparition’s treacherous threshold. ) yearning for something i lost; the warmth of your embrace, contrasting with the glare of the sun pouring down on me, easiness could never give justice to you; sly brushes of lips against my skin, as if chanting bohemian chants all over me to get out of this witchcraft that we call love; longingness in your eyes, a renaissance painting in front of you, begging to feel the constellations in your hands cascading through every vein in me. still, i feel something coil deep inside me, were you truly mine?
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 10:50 AM UTC
two on two
i am tired of waking up in the middle of the night at the sound of my skin tearing itself apart, i can no longer remove the stamp of your lips and hands off me; my sides splitting open so my scars ensconced deep beneath the surface can tell the story of how i fell for you. i am tired of staying up with nothing but the company of the moon, awaiting for its eclipse, blinking away fragments of what we had — filled to the brim with adoration — although fleeting. memories of how you held me — only distant. again, the clock chimed unforgivingly, reminding me of late night drive throughs around the crevices of my wreckage of thoughts — spilled and separated; full of you, only you.
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Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
weariness.
a distinct feature in my appearance would be the bags under my eyes; i remember staying up until my bones quiver under the bewitching spells of the moon’s forgotten raving sonatas, enticing enough to cradle an iota of dejected sentiments from centuries and centuries ago. i remember looking up at the night sky until my eyes flicker from dust to ashes, burning the crevices of every wall i built, graveyards broken down to match the unmatched bleakness of the ignominious sorrow peeking out of the corner of your soles. i remember laying down, not once had silence became overbearing that i could hear the faintest brush of a weightless feather falling from a tainted nest, aching to meet its pernicious lover. i remember closing my eyes, shifting everything elsewhere; still, i dread the feeling of compunction emerging deep from the landmines of mistakes that i had claimed as my home and my shelter. but this, i could never forget: i remember being envious of you; how you do not lay awake at night, wondering if things could have been better.
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Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 2:58 PM UTC
ungodly hours
recurrent moonlit distractions captured by words tied down into morsels; separated and concealed, contiguous yet sheer greetings of each other’s skin had left wanton burns and gushing streams of a brooding lover’s propensity for unsusceptible matters of the heart. there, he stood, on the precipice of tomorrows; ruminating and scrupulous, forlorn yet never dithering over mundane and quintessential quandaries of the tepid gloss of incertitude dangling off syllables dictated by sordid agony. there, he stood, in the midst of everything; from the otiose adoration poured out of empty caskets to the lenitive shades of his eyes. with the ripples of moonlight, the gestalt of doleful flower-like hearts, there, she stood, and waited.
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 10:15 AM UTC
toffee
we were contained in an ellipsis, desperately aching for delicate strings of words uttered by ghastly and shallow mouths.   we were contained in an ellipsis, the silence cradled the proximity of the entangled messes of our universe. this was us. this was our ellipsis, it never seemed to end.
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Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 8:10 PM UTC
ellipsis
i woke up next to you again, red wine lips slightly parted, a contented sigh escaping out of crushed cherries. the night is still young, you had said, a lopsided grin crawling its way to your sinful mouth speaking in dead languages. ( do not lie to me, darling ) i woke up next to you again, eyebrows furrowed, small hands traveled to mine, soft whilst never unwavering. you begged me to stay, never letting go of the edges of my shirt. insides stirred, i watched you in awe as you pat the spot next to you. ( just this once, i let you do as you please ) i woke up next to you again, gaze already set on my visage. a lazy smile and a kiss greeting me. this was love, you had thought but you were wrong. ( tonight will be the last, mi amor) i woke up next to you again, clothes tattered and torn, lifeless eyes greeting me, sheets splotched with regret and blood. grief and love are no such thing.
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May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 6:39 AM UTC
i woke up next to you again
i can be whatever you want me to be, i can be the waves crashing down to the shores to find solitude in your arms, aching to seek everything i can never truly have; i can be the treacherous current, sweeping you away from the palms of pandora's box, reaching out to lay their mouths ( shut / stitched / knitted ) filled with tribulation. i can fold myself into neat edges, abandoning every ghost town i conquered and called mine, every window sill attached with symbiosis and laced with piles of 'sorry' and 'forgive me.' i can be metaphors clinging around every part of you, wishing to be liberated from reveries accompanied with memories of how you held me with qualmy and shivering hands. so tell me because i can be whatever you want me to be.
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Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 11:20 PM UTC
tell me, tell me