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Corvus Oct 2016
There's a time, somewhere between 12am and 6am,
When all artistic, damaged or insomniatic souls
Feel like they're completely alone
Even though we're all awake and feeling the same thing.
12am is still too loud, still too car engines and shouting,
And 6am is too light, too exposing and awake, aware.
It's blackness but for the starlight puncturing holes in the sky,
That's when the magic arises and enchants us.
The way the moon looks at us and begs us to untrouble our weary hearts,
So we do it, and we do it willingly.
She is the most unfaithful lover, and it is beautiful.
How she cherishes each whispered secret so deeply
That it leaves a crater on her being.
How she takes on our pain unflinchingly,
And only needs 28 days to feel whole again.
There's a time, somewhere between 12am and 6am,
When the most trapped souls can feel such freedom.
Not entirely convinced that insomniatic is a word, but it should be.
Anna Aug 2015
You gave a girl at work
a speech about how ***
should mean something.
You looked directly at me,
and continued to be a **** to me.

If it should mean something,
stop making me your 12am *******
when you can't find a prettier girl
to ****.
you were a **** to me all day yesterday and text me now, at 12?? im not ******* stupid and im still angry
Wandisa Zwane Oct 2015
Written by

Wandisa Zwane  


April 16, 2015



INT.  APT 3101 - THE BEDROOM  

It's 02:31 am and I find myself laying silently on my bed scrolling through Instagram...Twitter...Tumblr....and Snapchat. I find myself struggling to go to sleep.  I wasn't even able to sleep for an hour or two. It's not normal as its way past my curfew. I receive a text message. I'm confused because it's
still too early for anyone to be texting me, and I know everyone nearby is fast asleep because we have school. So who could be texting me?

CUT TO: PHONE SCREEN

HER ( via text )

I'm struggling with the math homework, help ? Are you up ?

ME ( via text )

I am actually. FaceTime, call or text?

20 minutes later my phone starts ringing. She was FaceTiming me. I stare at her name for about 5 seconds trying to put myself together.

ME

Hello, Ellie

I wasn't focused on the math. I was hoping that we could forget about the math and just talk about us and the futility of life. For some stupid reason I really thought you were gonna say something cheesy like I can't get you out of my head but can we just talk until we fall in love? But no it never happened as we had an hour long conversation about math.

CUE " MATH CONVERSATION"

The futility in that conversation was cosmic to the point where I began questioning existence. But when the call finally ended I was disappointed.

CUT TO: VARSITY

It's 8am and I'm at sitting in English tired and drained. Still contemplating about the futility of life.

HER

Hey, Tyler thanks for helping me with the math homework.

ME

Uhm Ellie do you want to come over too my apartment over the weekend and chill ?

CUT TO: APARTMENT 3101

It's 12am and the apartment is really untidy. I jump out of bed and clean the entire apartment in a record time of 12 minutes and 44 seconds. I'm going crazy over here as I'm trying to remember if I gave her the correct directions. Thank god I gave her the correct directions as I see the uber pulling up in front of the apartment complex. I start sweating and shaking and I'm fearful that I'm going to have a nervous breakdown. I start cringing.
I open the door the door and it's her standing directly in front of me. I can't breathe. I'm overwhelmed by an awe of emotions. Literally - she's beautiful

ME

I mumbled - Hey Ellie it's so good to see you ( the hug was very awkward because I was nervous - it was one of those hugs where both people don't know how to hug each which makes things really awkward)

HER

Hi


ME

So glad you could make it. How was the drive ( note to self: I should stop making things awkward ) I'm so irritated at myself.

CUT TO:  APARTMENT 3101 - LIVING ROOM

She's sitting on the couch. And I'm sitting right next to her. Okay let's just say there was a 30cm gap between the both of us. I was really nervous. I found myself drinking gallons of water. I forgot to offer her anything. I was nervous to the point where I couldn't even make eye contact. I just stared at her forehead and her lips.

ME

Aren't you exhausted I mean that drive was really long ( she lived like 3 blocks away from me )

HER

Not really , I'm just really stressed about varsity and stuff I guess.

We actually start conversing with one another for 5 hours straight.We smoke about 3 cigarettes and have the most fruitful conversation ever about female energy and the power of the the heart. She's really enlightened - I thought she was really basic. We both can't go to sleep because we're actually  enjoying the presence of one another. It was cathartic and refreshing actually.

ME

Want go up to the roof and look at the universe?

HER

I'd love too.

CUT TO : COMPLEX ROOF

I brought a blanket up to the roof cause I thought it was cold. It wasn't but we just layed down underneath the open night sky and gazed into the stars. We connected with the universe/ourselves/each other. It was bliss. We ended up falling asleep on top of the roof. To my amazement we were silently wrapped around each other.

CUT TO: APARTMENT 3101 - THE KITCHEN

HER

( chuckling )
How'd you sleep

ME

( Smiling )
I slept pretty well.

ME

Do you have any plans for today?

HER

YES actually...

SEVERAL HOURS LATER: APARTMENT 3101 - KITCHEN/BEDROOM AND LIVING ROOM

The sun is setting and she still hasn't packed her bags.

ME

When are you leaving?

She said she was leaving on Sunday

HER

In 30.

ME

(I tried to not crack in front of her)
Cool.


APARTMENT 3101

About 2 weeks later she surprisingly pitches at my door with her luggage.

HER
I'm moving in with you!

I was excited at the fact that she was moving in with me but I obviously tried acting cool and composed.

CUT TO: WOLVES CAFE

As they're sitting there talking to each other about their families, Osho and meditation over a cup of tea.

ME

I was adopted.

HER

WOW - That's a huge plot twist.

She sat there speechless for about 2 minutes trying to fathom the knowledge I just presented to her.

HER

So do you ever think about your real parents?

ME

All the time - they both died in a car accident when I was 3.

HER

I'm so sorry.

ME

It's okay - I mean I know they're somewhere out there in the universe checking up on me. I speak to them when I feel lonely.

Enough about my tragic past..How are your parents?

I've never told any other soul about my parents before. She was the first person I ever told .

HER

I never knew my dad but my mom has been living with a brain tumour for like 2 years now.

ME

Wow. That's must've been so tough for you when you found out about it.

HER

It was. I went through the most vicious cycle of depression for an entire year. But I'm trying to make most of the time I have left with her.

ME

How much time do you have left to see her her and stuff ?

HER

(She starts tearing up)
3 months

CUT TO: APARTMENT 3101 - LIVING ROOM

I'm still fascinated by the fact that she's into Osho, existentialism, metaphysics and epistemology. But I also felt like our relationship had escalated so quickly. We're we rushing things? The relationship felt like it was moving at the speed of light.

ME

Do you feel like we're moving too fast ?

HER

There's no such thing, if it's meant to be it will be, whether fast or slow as long as it's true, it will last as long as you want it to.

I was momentarily tongue-tied as I was trying to digest the words she just said.

ME

......

(Still voiceless)

She still had a lot more to say after that

CUES : "rants"

But in that entire rant she said something that echoed within me.

HER

YOU KNOW I MAKE YOU HAPPY

After she said this I felt like fainting. So not only did she make me voiceless I was overwhelmed by an ocean of indescribable emotions- wow

DAYS LATER: APARTMENT 3101 - KITCHEN

I'd finally recovered from those powerful words she preached to me. So I found myself sitting in the kitchen trying to write a letter to her about how I really felt. I wasn't the best at expressing my emotions through writing but I gave it a shot.

ME

Love is the unforetold explanation for creation. Love is life. It's the merger of minds. The marriage of minds. It transcends through time, it's timeless. It takes you into a dimension filled with possibilities and opportunities. It helps you understand you are that you are not worthless. Every time I am with you I understand we are here for a reason. And every time I stare into your eyes. I realise that you are mine.  

I sealed it an envelope and put it on the kitchen counter.

LATER ON THAT DAY:

She opens the letter and starts crying.

CUT TO: THE TREEHOUSE

I introduce her to some of the guys in the treehouse. They welcomed her to the treehouse with open arms.

HER

So what do you guys do in the treehouse?

PAUL : (one of the guys part of the treehouse)

Well in the treehouse we just try to expand. We write, make music, poetry, nothing much really.

MCDONALDS DRIVE- THRU

She was to lazy to go home and cook supper she was s bit hypocritical cause she said we should stop buying junk food. So we decided to go to McDonald's. We were down to our last packet of 2 minute noodles anyway.


CUT TO: HOSPITAL

We went to visit her mother. She introduced me but there was no warmth in the hug we shared. I could feel her shrill body disintegrating. She was really cold. You could see she was dying.

HER

How've you been mom ?

MOM

She couldn't even speak properly. It was sad but when she eventually managed to responded to Ellie's question.

MOM

I'm still fighting but I don't know if I can do this for much longer.

HER

No mum you can't leave me.

MOM

I don't want to make you empty promises my child.

Who's this handsome young man Ellie?

HER

(Smiling heavily)
It's Tyler, my boyfriend

She just called me her boyfriend in front of her mom. She just put a label on our relationship. I thought it was completely platonic.

ME

Afternoon Mam. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.

I knew her name ( Stacy )  but in that moment I felt like a child in primary school - so I decided to be respectful and call her mam. I wasn't sure whether or not I should call her "Ellie's mom" or Stacy. It was just a tricky situation. So I opted for mam.

MOM

( smiling )
The pleasure is all mine Tyler.

She told me to come closer to her cause she wanted to whisper something into my ear.

MOM

Tyler I'm clearly dying as you can see. So I'm leaving with you an important task of ensuring that's my daughter remains happy at all times.Take care of her for me - please

ME

I'll take care of her - she's in safe hands.

MOM

That's the spirit Tyler. Can you give us a moment please Tyler.

HER

Just go down to the kiosk and get me a bottle of distilled water. Please.

(Tyler leaves the room)

MOM

I remember the first time you wrapped your tiny hand around my index finger , you had my soul laying on 3 cms of palm.

( Ellie interrupts )

HER

Mom don't do this , prolonging life is pure idiocy.

(she smiles as a tear rolls down her cheek )

Die so your soul can have its summer ,don't worry about my pain cause I'm really happy for you, your soul can finally taste true liberation, see my tears as autumn leaves falling from trees , I'm naked and all I can show you is the truest forms of love.

MOM

You're so beautiful because you're so true. Our connection has no equation my daughter, as I leave my body just know that my time with you transcends forever.

HER

Mother it's time for you to leave. Take a piece of my happiness, it's futile anyway and I have it in abundance but I shall be lost without you in body, I shall be found when I'm with you in soul.

MOM

Clarity comes with the last breath, as hatred and love become nothing, you are nothing and everything all at once, I'm happy for you have given it to me, tomorrow and yesterday no longer matter

(her heart stops beating and her souls goes home - heart rate monitor indicates her mom has just flat lined)

Ellie starts screaming. The nurses and doctors come sprinting in.


DOCTOR

NUURSE HAND ME THE DEFIBRILLATOR !!

HER

(in agonising pain and disbelief that her mother is dead she starts screaming)

SAVE MY MUM, PLEASE SHE CANT LEAVE ME !! YOU CANT LET HER DIE.

DOCTOR

Nurse get her out of here.

She's kicking and shoving the other nurses as she is being escorted out the room.

NURSE

Don't worry the doctors are doing all they can to save her.

Tyler comes back from the kiosk with the distilled water to find Ellie on the floor crying.

ME

What's wrong?

HER

( Her face goes pale )
She's gone ....

2 DAYS LATER: BACK AT 3101

Ellie has locked herself in my/our room. We haven't spoken to each other for like 2 weeks.

She finally decides to come out of the room.

HER

(Breaks down, again  )
It's her birthday today.

I've never seen her so broken and disfigured before. She's in pieces - distorted.

NARRATOR

Death is the door between two lives; one is left behind, one is waiting ahead. Death is the ultimate experience of this life - Osho

“Birth leads to death, death precedes birth. So if you want to see life as it really is, it is rounded on both the sides by death. Death is the beginning and death is again the end, and life is just the illusion in between. You feel alive between two deaths; the passage joining one death to another you call life. Buddha says this is not life. This life is dukkha – misery. This life is death"

HER

I WONT CRUMBLE - IM A BIG GIRL NOW. MOMMA RAISED ME TO BE A STRONG WOMAN SO IM GONNA DO THAT.

She put up this facade as if nothing ever happened. She didn't allow herself to mourn the death of her mother. She was apathetic for the next 2 weeks.

This  was a tricky phase because she either woke up angry or sad. She just rampaged through the house, didn't attend lectures - she just left a trail of destruction wherever she went. I even have the scars to prove it.

A FEW WEEKS LATER: THE DEATH ORDEAL IS FINALLY OVER

She gained about 5 kilograms in that entire period. She just kept on stuffing her face with ice cream and chocolates

HER

Tyler thanks for being there in my moment of absolute depression.

ME

I thought you were never going to be able to get yourself out of that dark abyss you were trapped in.

AT THE BEACH

The sun is setting and the couple is walking along the sand enjoying each other's company.

ME

I've got something for you Ellie

( I hope she likes it )

HER

Yes?

ME

Close your eyes

(Takes out a heart shaped pediment from back pocket  and places it around her neck )

You can open your eyes now.

HER

(Smiling)
It's lovely, thank you

ME

(Smiling back)
I'm giving you my heart but not my soul.

HER

(Blushes)

ME

(In my head)
I'm giving her my heart she better not break it.

Have you ever had that feeling before in a relationship where you think you love the other person more than they love you. To the point where you'd even get their names tattooed onto your chest. Cause that's how I feel right now.

IN THE CAR:


I'm driving Ellie to the airport. OR Tambo in fact. I'm playing some Jamie ** but I quickly change it and play my favourite song Female Energy.

CUE "FEMALE ENERGY"

ME

You excited?

HER

Yes I'm really really excited for this.

ME

I'm really gonna miss you

HER

Me too.

Ellie was completing her mothers bucket list - so she had had to travel all the way to Tibet and learn Buddhism. Nothing much really she was leaving  for 2 months.


But little did Tyler know that this was going to be the last time he sees Ellie because her plane never landed in Tibet - the plane crashed and it sunk with no no one  surviving.

STILL IN THE CAR:

Ellie hands Tyler a letter

HER

Tyler please don't open this until you get home.

ME

(Smiling)
I'll try my best.


Car parks at drop and go zone at the airport. Tyler takes out Ellie's bag from the boot.

They hug and kiss

Ellie cries.

CUT TO : "APT 3101 - LIVING ROOM "

Tyler opens the letter.

CUE "ELLIES VOICE AND ON OUR SWEATERS "


It's funny how for someone who has been so used to being lonely, the second I grip onto something that seems real, my biggest fear is losing that grip - even though for the longest time ever I've become immune to the feeling of loneliness. The same way people become dependent on other beings, people can become dependent on loneliness too - you become immune to self reassurance, your insecurities, your vulnerability and after a while it seems ideal and okay, but only because it's all you've got. You allow yourself to be consumed by this self indulgent energy making you think you don't need anybody because how else do you get by when you know that you have nobody. So when someone comes creeping in through the front door, with nothing but good intentions - you shut them out because you've lost sight of the difference in the realness of someone coming through the front door and the fakeness of someone coming through the backdoor. I struggle to fathom your presence because I didn't see you coming, through any door, you were just always there in plain sight. I don't know how to describe what I feel when I'm around you because I have never felt anything like it. All I know is that it leaves me in a place
An incomplete screenplay.
han Jul 2017
When 12am knocks, I answer
There is no sleep
Only constant reminders
There are no doors to hide behind
The nighttime brings silence
Silence lets a loud mind roar
To the darkest corners
Only there's no where to hide
No distractions
It hits me like a wall
Insurmountable
When 12am calls, I answer
July 8th~ han
Craig Harrison Dec 2014
12 am on Thursday morning
kissing and hugging
cheering and laughing
celebrations and fireworks
drinking and drinking
Happy New Year to the world

End of 14 beginning of 15
out with the old and in with the new
what will 2015 bring you.
12 am on Thursday morning
Happy New Year to the world
LostinJapan Aug 2016
I stare at the ceiling
drained
by all the things I didn't do
Tasks and obligations are notecards
wedged between collections of thoughts
slowly taking up space on my shelf
until nails give and wood splinters
Favors are rough, leathery bookmarks
dominating Bible-thin planner pages
straining and bending
until schedules fan out
in a fat, perfect circle
of endless anxiety
Haley Rezac May 2013
I fall in
love

with your       heartbeat,
the thrum-thrum-thrum of
your chest against mine
the pulsing whisper
that your lips leave
against my cheek
my forehead
my nose
lips.

Never have I desired
anything more than to
curl up against you
fall asleep to that thrum-thrum-thrum
wake up to
your                            kiss
your                         touch
your                    warmth.

It was on
May 17
of 2013
--a stretch of time--
somewhere between
11pm and 12am
that I
fell              into
love              with
you.
And it's scary as hell.
it's 8pm

after the sun departs and we are greeted by constellations
or what we could see past the rising light of the city
The elitists of the day go home
A time of opportunities has gone down with the day
But what would the night bring us?
The start of a new journey and to be one with the city?
Never in the eyes of a 9-5 type

it's 12am

the stars
they call our name
towers being our line of communication
should we go?
we could get caught, though?
I have to wake up early tomorrow
what if, what if, what if
'What if' didn't make your greatest memories and you know it

every emotion between ambition and fright from what lays ahead
but that feeling is what makes it worth while.
doesn't matter if were opening the door to the outside or crawling out a window
the next feeling hits you and it is more than awe

it's 3am**

above the ***** streets of Houston
60 plus up with not a witness insight other than god
as our eyes gaze upon the lit streets, that stretch infinitely
our perspective changes
what once was Houston
is now a interlay different world
who knew a city could offer you so much without trying to give it to you
this is really rough and ill edit it later
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2019
~~~

“To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.”  Henri Bergson


well in that case,
I’m either the most immature teen here,
or Rip Van Winkle

the re-creation process is six, nearly seven,
decades long (you thot days, ha, no way),
can’t recall the last name
I called myself

the delving, the researching, the forgetting,
the fifty first dates of no short term memory,
the checkdown, throwback Thursday of
did I write that?

no recollect, the pretense of
prehensile strength to touch
you and me simultaneously
might, could be true,
if you claim I authored it,
ok with me and all that

life taught me this,
the one who oft  hangs around
very young kids
learns a lot,
and soon recognizes

maturity indeed endless
but not senseless
just a poem-of-the-day process

indeed

every sense says the minute difference
between this morning and this approaching midnight,
an opportunity to grow up, stand straighter, uprighter,
write down my failures one more time,
cause that is the sterling hallmark impressed upon
thyself, ourselves,
that is genuine maturity,
the courageous wisdom to start all over again

the clock has transgressed,
moving past
the 12:00am digits,
which for cause
makes me giddy,
it’s permission to write a new one,
of course,
maturely thinking I still got one within,
a newbie, an aged day-old brand new baby,
a poem,
of course

god bless, I’m all grown n’ growled up,
with wisdom to know I don’t got nada,
but own the immature youthful courage of maturity,
to keep on trying, endlessly,
being your obedient-servant
~~~

p.s. this is kind of love poem of thanksgivings,
a love poem with no misgivings,
a thank you for the fragments of sharing -
hold so dear,
the best reason to mature,
the best reason to change,
the best reason to write
right now, here comes the mojo
my newest oldest friend,
reminding for the last and first time

that I’m all growed,
using the bigliest words I’ve known
to say baby, hey baby,
good night good morning
write us a poem,
a thank you note,
from one who blessedly forgets his name,
day in and year out


For that guy,
you, that ancient kid,
That poet-in-retrograde

so rewrite the title, a refresh,
are you immature enough to write?

1:12am

~for the crew~
TDN Dec 2013
on a 12am bus
downtown San Diego
movershakers and dopplegangers
dash across dimly lit streets
all covered in thick layers of shadow
eyes flicker in alleyways
move like lightning bolts
always making contact with you(r body)
eyes that move to the seat
next to you
and think only about
*** and *** and ***
on a 12am bus
downtown San Diego
where everything looks
better way better
when your mind looks
for a way to escape
prison break its way
out of your skull
beat you ******
and light you on fire
on a 12am bus
downtown San Diego.
collection of notes written in san diego, summer 2012.
Debanjana Saha Feb 2018
With each day's torments in life
I take my brush and
try to paint out my soul
Where to begin or end
not knowing at all
but still love to paint
to find solace within my heart!

To paint or to write,
is my usual confusion
so did both while writing & painting
my soul out!
I am passionate about writing as well as painting.
Now trying to do both at the same time.
Madeline Rook May 2016
An open letter to teachers
I love learning
You make think that’s odd considering the blank look I have on my face every lesson
But it’s true
However when you put me in a room of thirty other kids I don’t get along with
Or don’t like learning too
It kinda kills the mood
Whilst learning definitions is important and I understand
You’ll forgive me for looking out of the window for a few minutes before tuning back in
You’re just as bored as me I know
But of course you’ll never let it show
After all
Your class is the most important of them all
Thirty minutes of homework a night at least
I study 6 other subjects
Each of them requiring at least thirty minutes too
That’s three and a half hours of work a night
Plus eight hours of school
That’s a twelve hour work day
So you’ll forgive me for yawning in your class
Afterall I stayed up til 12am the night before doing the work you set me
No of course not
How dare I yawn in your lesson?
That’s right it is incredibly rude
It is my fault I stayed up so late the night before
Doing work that you set me
How dare I?
I apologise

I love learning
But I don’t like sitting in a room of 150 other kids doing an exam
Spending three nights before fitting into my head all that I could cram
So I could have you stand over me and watch me as I write
Or the giant dreaded clock counting down from 100 to 0
Each minute going faster as I struggle to calculate how many times 0 goes into 100
Asking a question that can’t be answered
“You won’t be able to ask questions in real life”
That’s odd because my work place embraces asking questions
On the bottom of every sheet saying ‘ask the manager if you don’t know how to do these jobs’
But that’s not the real world
Part time work is not the real world
Flipping burgers at Maccas is not the real world
But it seems pretty real to me

I love learning
When I was 8 loved to do maths
Triangles and squares and circles it all came naturally
Then you started implying that maths was a boy’s area
That only boys do well and boys can succeed
I lost that love
Took a left turn at maths and English lane
Whether that was the best or worst choice I’ve ever made I’m here now
A poet who can count to 100 in threes languages but can’t make sense of the letter x
What’s it doing there?
Isn’t maths just numbers?
Are English and maths crossing over?
No
X and represents everything and 1 all at once
Just like how the conch symbolises law and order?
No
It’s just a number
A number that needs to be worked out
Ten lines at least to work out x
A million different solutions and trial and error will not be one
It’s the cheat’s way out
The girl’s way out

I love learning
My maths teacher taught me to love maths again
My English teacher taught me English was not just a constellation
My drama teacher taught me drama is so much more than the stage
But maybe this is all too late
Because when I’ve spent my life waiting to fall in love with maths again
My love for maths was lost
My love for learning was lost
My drive is lost
I love learning
But not as much as I used to
summer May 2016
she stands there,
in her room,
the only light coming from a dimly lit lamp,
sitting in the corner of the room,

she stands there,
thinking about it,
about you,
and everything in-between,

she stands there,
with a knife in her hands,
and words in her mind,
that will always be there,

she stands there,
with tears running down her cheeks,
not bothering to wipe them away,
because nothing matters now,

she stands there,
with her arms out,
looking down at it,
thinking about what this means,

she stands there,
knife to skin,
silence in the air,
someone yelling at her inside her head,

she stands there,
listening to the voice,
just do it already it says,
you don't even matter it says,

she stands there,
a memory came to here,
you and her smiling and laughing ,
it was all her fault,

she stands there,
looks over at the clock,
red numbers flick over as time passes by,
3:12am it says,

she lays there,
in her room,
the only light coming from a dimly lit lamp,
sitting in the corner of the room,
SaturnKnight Sep 2015
Glad that Fall is finally here. Not because of the pumpkin spice specials, nor the chilly weather.. Not that I enjoyed the summer heat anyway.
But what makes Fall important to me, is the beauty of realization. The eye opener of change. The hot weather becomes cooler, the leaves begin to change colors, the leaves start to fall.
Amazed by all of this, yet not seeing the true picture. If the weather, leaf colorcolors, & trees start to change, to show beauty, & rebirth. Why can't we?
Em Rose Jan 2014
I wonder if anyone cares about me as much as I care about you.
Reggine Sumiyama Sep 2018
Here I scatter the ashes of our Wednesdays
and throw dirt on our names because we fell into a stupor of unsaid goodbyes and insincere apologies.

I take my time trying to unclench my fist,
after all, release is only sweet when you feel suffocated.

I always made sure to adjust my grasp to your comfort,
present my entirety as if you owned more than a half of what I used to be.
I remember you in things that have no heartbeat, but a pulse of regret and anger that devours it, and to think you swore you would keep me alive.

In Binondo, you taught me how to eat street foods, walk in the crowded places, sit still on taxi rides,
and feel beautiful even when you kept your eyes off me.
You believed in slow motion, and the magic of lugaw at 12AM,
I watched you in a fascinated haze.
Too unsure of the light.

In Fairview, I told you that I cry during movies and laughed at the way you spun me around in the theater. Hand on my waist for good measure. I showed you claw machines and photobooths,
at least remember me.
I held your hand the first time, bled on
a piece of paper you read on the way to Quiapo, and all the long rides have made me feel empty ever since.

In Ilocos, I gave you a warm kisses on your cheeks when you took me
to church the first time, head spun just at the right angle for when
I walk down the aisle in a dress with you waiting at the end of it,
not knowing that in 4 years, I’d come back at someone
else’s wedding, begging on my knees at silent altars to keep you
even with my faith hanging from my fingertips. You still left.

In Intramuros, I see you in every nook and crevice,
in the holes, in the walls with Lechon Kawali, in quiet places we
claimed are for ourselves. In street vendors, ATM machines,
and pedestrian lanes too dangerous to walk on. Nowadays,
I shut my eyes in the backseat, afraid to see a shadow of who
I thought you were whenever I am near.

In Pasay there are people to see and places to walk
through to cover the tracks of almost lovers, a pair of shoes
to buy, impatience on my throat, and kisses on cheek as a cure
for my silence and satiation for the hunger below your navel.

In EDSA, we locked more than just lips, ate street Palitaw,
knocked three times on wooden doors, even lit candles to be sure,
that we would keep each other for good. Someone must have
knocked harder, the wind must have swept our fire out,
and we were fools to think promises were as simple as padlocks
that rust and break in the rain. How I never told you that I pictured
us in a million other bus rides that night. The road could never
have been shorter than the infinite one you promised.

In Pandacan, you wanted a life with me  
with nights in bed, the sickening kind of happiness harrowing
the peace we always knew we had. You held me close
and by the early hours of the morning you swore you’d meet me
again when the clock strikes twelve on a different year. I think
you left your love for me in that two-bedroom suite, and
wouldn’t it be wise if I left mine right next to yours, folded
and hung before the stain of resentment covered it whole?

In between the hurt and madness, memories of us
unfolding without grace on the table, I loved you.

You knew what you were doing when you let go of me to hold
onto someone else that was never as sure as I was of you,
and I wake up in sweat at 3AM thinking I never really knew.

Now we are in places we’ve never been, and I dry
swallow the hurt that swells even when I no longer touch it.
There are spaces I no longer need to be filled because I got used to being hollow
even when I was next to you
and now that I don’t have to be there anymore
it makes it easier to forget you ever happened, and I will tiptoe my way out of these places until I no longer feel you everywhere.
raðljóst Sep 2013
Night-time, to me? Well, that’s a tough question.
Night is a time where sleep is an exception.
Rest is elusive, dreams are abhorred.
Night is a time when I’d rather be bored.

Night is for tired minds falling from skyscrapers.
Night is for weary-eyes, pencils to papers.
Oh, let me tell you, counting sheep just won’t do.
Night is a time when I long for you.

Night is a time to have too many ideals,
Night is a time to break too many seals,
The terrors have come and the wishes have past,
Night is a time that I hope doesn’t last.
Lily Sep 2015
It's 12:38 in the morning
And i'm still not sure how I can sleep
Knowing that The Vamps and Before You Exit
Is coming to Manila on January 30, 2016
And I don't have the funds yet
Lololol I made a poem out of it ***. The crazy things a fangirl would do for their idol 101
Note: if you ever read this please take time to tweet @thevampsband and @beforeyouexit and tell them how much Leigh loves them. It's just that I'm 8 hours away from the concert place, I don't know where to get money, and worse, parents never approve. Sad life :(
Not Patty Jun 2014
I've never be able to compose my thoughts or feelings before my eyes, but if I could I'd assume it'd go a little like this.  

Its the kind of thing that will leave you wide awake, unable to sleep at 12am.
Your voice.
It provoked a feeling of warmth.   With that voice, my deepest doubts were silenced.
You are a work of art.
Intriguing and unique.
I am infatuated,
With this masterpiece I see.

And again i lay in bed.
It seems I cannot drift to sleep.
Its been happening more lately.
Countless thoughts racing.
With a mind like a highway.  
Its 12:02am and I'm listening to songs that remind me of you.
Every lyric shoots Into me like a bullet with your name on it.

I've always noticed the way your face creased when you smiled so perfectly.
Wondering if I was ever the cause of it.  
My cheeks flushed when you looked at me
I knew that much.

There's something about you in those moments of subtle bliss
Your body is alive,
There's a light in your eyes
Something that makes me happy.

Its a weird sensation like this,
But its pretty awesome that we can feel this way about another human being.
sorry
Ella Gwen Dec 2016
I wasn't sure of
those words, that holy
trinity pressed to give back,

until your heart stuttered systolic.

Contracted, you underplayed every line as
I fought, undervalued, omitted and flat-lined

that singular skip your two-******, beated rhythm
warning beacon, red-flashing, blaring signal flared sign

granted every second second of each stolen time, when those
planets and these stars became so fiercely yet finitely aligned,

yes, I understand now, as we lay entwined, cyclic, chest
deep, life-defying leap, gasp of breath, wake from

sleep, it is this that I seek, sunlight unconfined
crushing breath divine, beat of two, separate

singular, unexpected yet still

defined in-kind, of your
continuation bringing
life back to mine.
RC Apr 2015
I still love you.
I caught myself searching for those
lingering stares;
like your eyes don't want to leave.
You still glance at me too intensely
to be considered
just a figment of background
in each other's presence
but I still harbor every memory
in the shores of my mind,
always greeting my thoughts
when I don't want to swim too deep.
martin murray Apr 2014
laying and relaxing in my bed
on my pillow and mattress
to comfort my head
a sunday of peacefulness
as the fragrant sheets
subtly put me to sleep
and circulates in the air
a single indent of my derriere
welcomes me back to my lair
as a habitual slumberer
missing the imprint of a partner
while the whirr of technology
taints the atmospheres synergy
i fall asleep in a inane clump
while my subconscious is in charge
and in cessation for a recharge
Anna Oct 2014
I think I change
"what I want to be when I grow up"
so much because
I'm not sure if
I'll let myself live that long.
god this is melodramatic. Way to go, anna. Great first poem on here, you *******.
Beth Decisions Sep 2015
Some days I wish I was normal.
That I wasn't plagued with all these problems.
The depression.
The anxiety.
The addiction.
Not to mention the physical disorders.
Somedays I wish I felt whole.
That I had the ability to feel love again.
Feel true emotions at all.
I feel almost good somedays.
I feel anger occasionally.
Normally it's just a crushing feeling of dread.
I wish I was normal.
Maybe then I wouldn't have made all those bad choices.
Wouldn't be as rebellious as I am.
Maybe then I would still have all the things I've ended up losing.
But then...
I have to remind myself that if I was any form of normal...
I wouldn't have all of the things I do.
I wouldn't have been able to make my favorite memories.
I wouldn't have the friends that I adore.
The wisdom my life has created.
I wouldn't be me.
I may not be normal.
I may not feel whole.
But I am, who I am.
I think it's finally time to embrace it.
Finally time to start learning to love myself again.
Millie Harvey Mar 2013
I'll sit on trains,
home is behind me;
home is in front.
The place I sleep on weeknights
with working mornings looming
is the place I only survive.
But at weekends
I live for you,
I breathe with you,
and when I sleep
I dream with you
because home is with you
in those moments at least.
My own bed,
twice as big as yours,
the thought a luxury
on a 12am R train.
or cold N to R transfer platform,
but too much room is bad for the soul.
I'd rather have
the Monday morning bruises
and bed spring sized aches.
SM May 2017
The glistening sun sets,
leaving a silhouette of hanging trees,
a decoration on pink faded walls.
Humming cicadas and chirping crickets,
play in a symphony of the night.
Bike rides and park games in darkness,
softball games in the bright field lights.
Each crack of the ball and bat create a chaos of teammate screams.
Lost every game, but won each time.
A refreshing water runs on slippery rocks,
swimming among fish and ducks,
Soaking bodies run home,
Baggy shirts, gym shorts,
Adults and children mix in a weekly party,
Beer bottle caps and soda cans clink to the ground.
Love and laughter surrounds a crackling open fire,
Warming bodies and hearts.
Little feet race to where the sidewalk ends,
the grass grows thick.
It is here where teams are picked and knees are scarred.
12am games are played,
cans are kicked, ghosts roam graveyards, and flags are captured.
Waiting to go home, hours and hours of waiting
Hours of talking of all different ages,
Country music and guitar melodies play throughout the street,
a lullaby of our childhood.
Television reruns at 2am entertain tired minds,
Couch and floor beds of blanket forts,
Carried up to bed to sleep in comfort at 4am, the chirping birds, already wishing a good morning to most, but goodnight to this home.
The raccoons rattle and the woodpeckers poke in a serenade to sleep,
In a neighborhood of blaring nights and silent mornings.
Each week, the time flew by.
A poem and a glimpse into my childhood.
A Apr 2014
Lonesome is
Seeing illuminated walls and only noticing the bodiless shadows
Maeve Sep 2013
And I love the way he looks at me
As if I'm something beautifully fragile.
As if I'm as important as I want to be.

And I love the way he hugs me
The way his hands tug at my waist
And holds me as if he never wants me to leave.

And I love the way his voice cracks
When he talks quiet and sweet
When he shyly looks down when I look at him back

But my mind shuts down when I think,
When I try to figure out how I feel,
Things change so quickly, don't let me blink.

And I'm too afraid to let myself feel
Because people leave too soon
And I'm left with chaos in my mind and pain in my heart

So what do I do
Michael Rabutla May 2017
Tell them what really happens . I know you know.

Tell them you know why the Blue Sky is black. What is it you think you know about water and spectrums?


You think******* looks like Chalk but you don't really care because you Smoke something else.

Tell them you think twice before saying something smart, Not very Smart is it?

I know you think they went to the Moon. Because you chose Neil and Mark over Mulder and Scully.
                                                                
Talk to them about your glorious ****** peaks that long for someone to match your Broken.

I know you think they don't know. How could they possibly know cloud-99


The Bliss. My days aren't numbered here.

My cup of tea, diluted because lukewarm is all I am

My HorrorScopes forever being so Jack and Rose on the shipwreck. Except, This is not a film.

Don't mention how I always Choke on the Calcium I smoke because******* is too Mainstream. That's not your business anyway.

It's the River of Frozen tears I get the  night chills from. I'm sick and how do I tell my Mother that I'm coming?    

Who'll open the gates for me?

May The Lord See my heart and forgive me. My intention was to break bread  and Learn how to sing. But all I learned was how to Speak Melancholia.
willa ivy Apr 2015
i like that he makes me happy,
even when he's making me sad

i like that i'm able to sit with him,
to talk with him, to laugh with him,
even though his heart is tied to
someone else's

i like when he smiles at me, and
i like when he doesn't

i like when he turns his head at the
sound of my quiet laughter, and
acknowledges it with his own

i like when he laughs, and that it
always reaches my ears from
across the room

i like that he knows me, knows i
exist, and calls me his friend

i like when he says my name, or
says hello, or says goodbye

i like that he doesn't know how i
feel, and that he never will

i like that in a number of months,
we'll be going our separate ways,
and that i won't have to see him
with her anymore

i like that eventually, i'll move on
and find someone else, and someday
he won't matter to me so much

i like that one day i'll know someone
who'll like it when i smile, when i laugh,
when i turn my head at the sound of his voice

i like that one day i'll know someone
who'll like when i say their name, or
say hello, or say goodbye

i like that one day i'll know someone
who'll like that i know they exist, and that
one day, i'll like knowing that they exist

i like that one day he'll simply be the
face next to mine in the yearbook, nothing
more than a memory

and i like that maybe, just maybe,
one day it won't hurt as much
The Black Raven Feb 2016
Midnight madness runs across his skin,
and glides deep within his veins as
twilight eyes watch from afar,
hollowing him from the inside out.
Patterson Jun 2020
"I'm okay" "I'm okay"
whispering to myself, hanging upside down
tears dripping down to my toes
when I break down mid stretch.
"Just breathe darling"
I coach myself, nearly rocking back and forth
on the wooden floor
while the clock reads 12
and everyone else is asleep.

The muscles wrapped around my chest
and my back draw tighter still
-like piano strings:
they wait, poised for the merest sound of footsteps.
And the air doesn't quite find my lungs
my mind won't come off high speed
and I thrash through piles of *******
to find the water-stained, warped, ripped notebook
and a gaudy pen.

Then I begin to scribble, compose,
quietly wail and rage
as stroke for stroke
I map out my traumas and my guilt;
            slowly tattooing my hurt
            like poetry on my skin.

— The End —