Ayoko na pahabain ang mga sasabihin ko. Dahil ayaw ko narin maalala ang mga tawag ko sayo, mahal,bby,baby,kupal, tangina naalala ko lahat kapag nararamdaman ko ulit yung sakit.
Yung sakit na binigay mo nung iniwan at naghanap ka ng iba.
Yung sakit na pinaramdam mo sakin na merong ikaw at ako yung tayo.
Yung sakit ng pagpaparamdam mo sakin na mahalaga ako.
Yung sakit!
Hapdi
Sakit
Kirot
Hapdi
Sakit
Kirot
Tangina yan lahat ng klaseng sakit na nararamdman ko pag naaaala ko yung anong meron tayo.
Pero naging ano ba talaga kita?
Naging ano mo ba ako?
Nakgkaroon ba ng tayo?
Baka naman ako lang yung nag iisip na merong TAYO.
Magsisimula ako sa umpisa, sa kung paanong niyakap mo ako nung sabihin ko sayong "mahal kita.."
sa kung paanong hinalikan mo ako sa noo sabay sabi na "mahalaga ka.." at ako naman tong si tanga, tuwang tuwa na hindi pa nalinaw nga na
ayaw ko na maging mahalaga, ayaw ko na maging halaga..
kelangan ko na mahalin mo ako gaya ng sarili **** kwarto
kabisado kung para saan ang ano, kabisado kung saan nakatago ang alin
kabisado ang mga tinatago **** patalim, silbi, dumi, lihim..patalim, silbi, dumi lihim...
Patawarin mo ako sa hindi ko paglayo at patatawarin kita sa hindi mo paglapit
Patawarin mo ako sa hindi ko pagsuko at patatawarin kita sa hindi mo pagsugal
Patawarin mo ako sa hindi ko pagkamuhi sayo at patatawarin kita sa hindi mo saken pagmamahal, mahal
Pero hindi ako naniniwala na hanggang dito nalang
Umaasa pa na sana'y pwedeng humakbang
Nasa likod ko ang pader at wala nakong iaatras pa
Dahil ako'y tao lang at ang pag abante ang natitira kong galaw

07/26/16
9:44 am
Tuesday
I wroted this poem during my class in philosophy

You tell me on facebook "ily, bby"
Not even taking the time to type it out...

You ask me constantly if I am going to leave
I lay in bed crying at night because you forget me

So many guys want to be in my life that it hurts...
It hurts that I have to break their trusting gaze

Because I'm looking towards you...
Looking, hoping praying that your love is true

When I met you I told you to call me Kitty or Blue
But instead you call me by my real name, something few people do

When we first got together we were hotter then fire and gasoline
Now we're barely a half empty lighter on a chain smoker

When did things fade away? When did things start to change?
When did you finally get sick of being with me?

You still tell me you love me... But I have to say it first...
Am I just a nuisance? Do I actually annoy you?

Tears fill my eyes as my feelings I compromise...
You are getting away with my ******

The ****** of my heart and soul, the flash in my eyes
I become the meekest child under your gaze

And I just no longer know what to do...
Because I fear I no longer love you...

Lacking of life now
I lol on my fine divan
Laziness often
lacks the power of rapture
as in sofa or bedsprings

Labour of love her
for large obese lobster me
Mermaids capture me
a symphony of sea-sick
rasping tongues lick our lumps

Little old lady
typing the language of love
A real cyber date
computer romance limits
operational life's love

Laughing over lines
of disco ****- pure *******
Lewd obscene language
grasping lemon or lime highs
to count Hollywood star shootings

A full length of life
the longing off, lay proceeds
Lady of the Lake
lunging our lisps sound depths
we are - breathing harmony

The land of Lincoln
legion of Lucifer's Lord
landscaping of lawns,
losing our liberty's law,
leaving on lights, blinding

Lots of Laughs or 'lol'
populist abbreviation*
language often less,
leftovers of literate
gone to libraries of late

Life does not reward
Disregard
Or looking cool
smoking a cigar
When you look away
(Smiling)
No one's looking at you
(Darling)

You act so nonchalant
And spend so much time
Low-sweet-perfecting
(your speech)
You've forgotten what you meant
To say

y’all over here talking ‘bout love and ****.
like it lasts forever or whatever
but forever has gotta end.
your kinda love ain’t real
not real like my love
that dreaming about you at night kinda love.
that thinking about how he smiled at you kinda love.
yeah
your kinda love ain’t real.

Dominic ******* › Love So Dear by BR  39 minutes ago
This poem is so ****** I pooped blood out , check mine out people 100 times better than this **** , ,100 times

Dominic ******* › funny how it turns by Sylkie Smoothie  39 minutes ago
Your poem is **** , check mine out people , 100 times better than this , 100 times

Dominic ******* › **** by GussE  40 minutes ago
What a ****** poem , check mine out people , 100 times better than this piece of crappp

Dominic ******* › Life In The Battlefields No. 50 by David  41 minutes ago
****** poetry dude , check mine out beoble 100 times better than this . 100 times

Dominic ******* › Untitled by Oly Light  42 minutes ago
This is **** , check mine out beoble ! you poem is **** ! mine is better , like a 100 times better

Dominic ******* › saeglopur, ii by C S Vincent  46 minutes ago
*cocked mouth * i lyk dat bby


Dominic *******

started following C S Vincent  46 minutes ago


liked ruins by kimberlyxlynn  46 minutes ago


started following kimberlyxlynn  47 minutes ago


started following SoundOfRain  49 minutes ago


Dominic ******* added a poem  2 hours ago
Invincible


Dominic ******* joined Hello Poetry.
2 hours ago

I miss our Rick & Morty Marathons
and your attempt teaching me how to play Fortnite.

I miss the "I love you's"
and texts filled with blue hearts.

I miss your smile lighting up the room,
the gazing into each other's eyes,
and our quirky giggles
as we glanced at each other.

I miss lying by your side,
holding each other so tight.

I miss ******* anywhere
whenever we got the urge.

I miss our movie dates
and convincing our parents
to stay out late.

I miss our late night drives
and the way you'd mess with me,
turning the radio volume up and down
every time I danced insane
in your passenger seat.

I miss our first kiss on the rock
at Getty Heights Park
and our last in your car
dropping me off.

I miss sneaking out my bedroom window
and our late night smoke sessions.

I miss you sneaking up behind me,
picking me up
and throwing me into the pool.

I miss you holding me from behind,
looking in the mirror
as you whispered, 'I love you.'

I miss doing your English homework
and the inappropriate jokes
you'd leave on the shared doc.

I miss our long hour phone calls,
talking about whatever came to mind,
laughing hysterically.

I miss all your dogs,
but most of all Coco
and taking her to the vet.

I miss your family
and your mom's dinners
and persistence of getting me to eat.

I miss cheering you on at all your
hockey and football games
and supporting you through your decision
to join the Marines.

I miss getting caught,
and getting condoms thrown at us.

I miss our long texts;
good morning and goodnight;
good luck and it'll all be okay.

I miss "bby"
and "your my princess" to "queen;"
"prince" to "king."

The list continues,
missing everything about us.

But most of all,
I miss you.

it was what you made me feel
your heart in mine; a deal
safety at its finest
you were my home
like lovers do, we slept in one another
our own private Rome
now I have gone, no longer yours
sang so softly and low
*"You do your thing, bby"

I don't get you
It's been said.
(By you.)
Your music poem heroic myth combos;
I don't got 'em in me according to you so ****

Pride is what I've got as far as:
Loving you, possessing you, longing you forever and ever and always
Faithing this: I get you and no one else can ever more, just me.

Me wrong: ha!
But apparently maybe
So call me
Or don't cause we sleep together;
no call needed bby

Speak instead so
I can scratch your dreams;
I'mma ******* Count of Monte Cristo type here,
All useless revenge
Offensive retreats I pretend are defense;
therefore, QED legitimate.

A chess player bluff but no
I'm not actually that fancy
I don't fence cause my wrist is ******
don’t play chess because it will not be just any another opponent, it will be my Papa, teaching me the best ways to beat him, in the end.
don’t conjugate Latin anymore,
(she died, the woman who whispered there is a way out of radical christianity and heterosexuality but more importantly taught Latin precisely, inspiring.)
I cheated on the last test anyway so **** that fake fact.

So I just been hoarding meanness
up down,
Left and right, inside out

(In other words: ******)

Sorrow isn't a thing we people make up but we sure spend a lot of time manufacturing it for each other it seems like, and I don't want to be good at doing this.

It doesn't make me tough
Or better
Or mas yours
Or honest or what I'm afraid you think I am:

A wilted desert thing
Secreting thorns first
Exploding them out in every direction
Unpredictably
Unblooming into a prickled seeding creature
nonetheless virile vibrant,
Hungering but not starved

Like home this summer,
The summer you wouldn't believe
If I told you how green it all was down I-25;
(ours and also you and Maria's but we count more than you and she cause she doesn't glow anymore who knows why I wish she would because she is the best poetry you have let out so far just opinion here.)

But so.
Unbelievable.
Like a desert dreamt itself into meadows and unknown greens that you know better words for than I do.

You missed this.

You hate missing things
Pretend they were never there.

You just want to turn longing into creation,
So you're the best at survival
And transforming and I don't want to just wilt out on you, I want to become a cactus that can be anywhere and all where
But I won’t pretend it wasn’t real because I was there and Santa Fe broke my heart and you can  forget all you want but that is fact and nothing changes it even though I can bear it, bore it all summer, and then broke a bunch of your bundles of trust this fall and now you can have reasons for what I've done wrong and I wont argue against the facts.

But I am not incapable or lazy or insane or crazy. I do not need men to tell me I'm bad with money when the only times I am is when I am wrapped into their lives. I do not need to be mistrusted when I know what I know and have done what I have done and do not try to reconcile the two.

Reconciliation? Personal analysis? **** that. All I had to know is that here we wouldn't birth fights about who did what wrong, and that I, I am not alone in this world.

P.S. Why am I the one left to keep us safe if you don't trust me enough to believe me when I say your child could be mine one day and I, I would not keep silent watches, build walls with peepholes. Keep believing it, though. Cause I'm the only one in on the secret who hasn't feared for a child's life around you yet. and I'd bet you any amount that every single other person has had that moment of terror. So figure out who it is you want on your side, kid.
( Don't leave yourself alone in this world. )

She did hear me in the courtyard
she did hear me a lark from the meadows
for me and her did have unfilled soils
and both in love wanting to sow our seeds

From her window top I greeted her
pulled down her skirt and she made her escape
we kissed as we fell into the flowers
I will never forget that day, forever more

In the field green lush grass behind us
cows were being brought in for milking
we presumed to take it to the next level
we both were doing some grunting and much mooing

They had never wanted us to be together
so we made it our last and pure task
to then in the warm winds together
bathe in summer fields of human faults and hemlock



Bby Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

I think of u when i listen to nirvana
I see you when i daydream to frank
I hear you all the ******* time any woman sings
Ed sheeran gets sadder than normal
Tylers fantasies become realities when im w/ u
***** this is love, why dont you understand
Why the **** do you push me out?
You say nice things abt me, the whole package
Ur brown eyes r the most beautiful thing to look into bc i love that ****
I see your fear, i can sense it too
Its not tht hard to know life is hard bby girl
Empathy will be the death of me
But ****, take a chance w/ a dude like me
U say i do rare **** like make you happy
You made me a ******* man
Let me help you become a ******* woman
**** they dont call my shoulder the sham-shoulder for nothing,
so its ok 2 shed a tear or 4

jeg vil bare ik indse det ej jo
srry bby, but mama told me no ;(((((((((((
kakao
armeridder
roulade
lakrids
jeg kan faktisk ikke lide lakrids eller dig

I brush up my teeth
(good little boy)
I brush em up gud
put on nice white & brites
flick wrist like handsome Asian dentist said
checkup all gud iron Bru bby
no cavity litter life
burn bridges
raze fields
scorch earth

What will it look like?

To choose palm trees
Ocean water
Hot sandy beaches
Vapor wave inside me
And right beside the sea.

What will it look like?
To let my hair continue to grow
Strong and long
To finish inking my arm
To sit in my power.

What will it look like?
To fly out to the next place
To start anew
To kick up holographic dust.

What will it look like?
To keep seeing and seeing
What I want and deserve.

What will it look like?
To just go for it all.

What will it look like?
To truly release myself from the grip
I've created within myself.

What will it look like?
To let myself no matter how hard things get
To have such a strong ground and soft core
And to flourish
Despite all obstacles.

What will it look like?
To let people who didn't choose to stay go
Remembering you did the best you could
And that who you are will not always
Play well with others
And that your own ego tries to convince you otherwise
But you wouldn't want to be for everyone
No, never darling.

What will it look like?
To sleep at a decent hour
To consume coffee in the daylight outdoors
To be surrounded by a holographic buzz
To stop apologizing for greatness, ambition
And allow just really
Truly allow
Myself to stand into and within the earth of the desert
With ease
With abandon

With gratitude.

I tell people I'm an English major and all of a sudden I can only be a full-witted professor. It's even funnier when I say that my field of study is English whenever I'm speaking spanish, they look at me as though I'm a fool possessed by the illiterate demons of our local parish. Behind this register I stand for days and days switching to and fro between my two well-versed tongues as the transactions keep rolling money into corporate's pocket and I'm stuck living in a ******* without so much as a picture locket. This hurricane is making the roof leak and I won't get paid until next week; do you want the eggs or the tortillas?
Come on, let me know, bby. Tell me before this roaring television makes me go crazy, before this phone rings and I have to pretend that I'm a boy again just for the sake of my societal standing amongst the liars and cheats posing as friars so sweet. Cry me a river so that I can drown, oh my byproduct of god, I'm going down.

My hearts a graveyard bby
to evil we make love

VhV