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Robin Lemmen Jun 2018
I am easier to be had
In the silence of darkness
Where teardrops are equal to dust
If you can't see them fall
I am lovelier on Wednesdays
Wearing long dresses and heels
Ask me if you can touch
I will, without thinking, say yes
I am lonelier in crowds
Feeling overwhelmingly not there
Nothing more than the people
Whom have passed through me
Memories shapeshifting into a girl
I am nothing more
Than a ghost town
Lakiya May 22
It’s to cluttered
Open the window to my soul
Let me be heard
Detox the negativity that surrounds me
Keeping me imprisoned in my own perception of life
Drowning me in grief
This poor soul is shattered
Making it impossible to fix
Somebody please open the **** window
My soul is crying for help
Air supply is frail
Making it hard to breathe
Maybe a little laughter is what i need
A smile that spreads like sea
Let the light seep through the crevices
Breaking me free
Vierra Nov 2016
So I saw you on that day,
For the last time.
'I don't think I love you no more,
You have caused me enough trouble'
Is what she has exclaimed.
For the hardest part of me
Has silently dissolved,
And now I have found myself
In wanting but it might be in vain,
For there is another who tickles my fancy.
Already steady, I listen closely to those who will
Conspire against me and I have decided to
Believe those ever painful words,
react with the neglectful tendencies of a hardened man, and leave them to their vices.
I do not and will not respond to empty threats
and premeditated hatred because they can not maintain their required responsibilities.

Is it sucker-free wednesdays yet?
Stream of consciousness
WA West Aug 2018
Barely do my Wednesdays fill with longing,

Lost observers rendering August whims to the scrapheap of infinity,

Galvanized entities downing tools schematically,

A posse of awareness pronating towards incandescent light,

Mostly everything a prolonging of jest and belly laughs,

Dawn brings the sick belly of listlessness,

Hordes of happenchance and imaginers of silence dancing,

The chitter chatter cadence does dim for a minute stretching yonde
#listless #wednesday #shortpoem #silly
SJG Mar 19
I do the folk art.
I do the folk art on Wednesdays.
I do the "roughly made".
I do the "sundry implements".
I do what I do for daily use.
I do what I do for less acclaim.
I am still like you.
I do what I do.

I am built for your common setting.
I am inexpensive.
I am produced in bulk at discounted rates.
I am still like you, still like you.


But you are not you.
You are "vis-a-vie" fine art craft.
You are "rococo" in "motion".
You are "shoaled" by the "ocean".
You are not you, not you, not 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.
*Flash Back!*

*I’m bringing back
the big hair, pink lips,
short skirts with
hooped earrings.*
It was simplified and
dignified by its flashy
design and freedom
of expression.

It was pizza and beer
on Friday night,
X Files on Wednesdays,
Star Trek blazed across
the screen and aliens
took over the movie industry.

Iconic designs that still influences
our creative side.

Facebook was nothing not even
an idea at the time.

Twitter hadn’t made a peep,
and WordPress was a
blank screen.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton
Sketcher Dec 2018
Why can't I remember simple words and phrases for tests and quizzes, yet I can remember almost every conversation we have had in the last four months. I have unintentionally memorized all of your hobbies and favorites. This was a surprising, yet amazing perk to getting to know you and fall in love with you.

I wanted to be a better artist, so I posted this wish on a few social media platforms. I was just getting it out in the open thinking that nobody would respond. You responded. You told me that we could meet up some time and practice your preferred art style, which is drawing animals. We made plans and set a date. I texted you on the chosen date and got a response the next morning saying that you were sorry for not responding sooner. You didn't have internet. We tried making plans a second time and the exact same thing happened. Yet again, you didn't have internet. At this point, I just thought that you didn't want to see me and I accepted that. One day, me and my ex-friend Gavin were walking around, going from neighborhood to neighborhood, just talking about life. Reminiscing in the good memories and troubles of the past. Eventually, we got bored of talking and he suggested that we go somewhere. This somewhere was your house. I didn't realize that we were walking towards your house at the time. Once we got to your house, I noticed you sitting in the back of your fathers truck while you had a few friends inside and your entire family eating dinner together at the dinner table. You seemed like a lonely teenager. You confirmed this thought after telling me multiple times in the future that you wanted me to come over and hang out, because of that dreadful loneliness. I came over at least twice every week and that lasted for a good two and a half months. From the first glance, I noticed your beauty. From your first words, I noticed your refined charm. You gave me a sort of cancer every time I came over. Ever time you touched me, the cancer would diminish and there would only be an elegant light radiating from the both of us. Then, when I would leave, the cancer would grow and pain me. This was only the beginning of my painful, yet joyous love for you.

I fell in love with you, because you drew me in. You, at one point literally, took me by the wrist to a place that nobody would find us and showed me the love you were capable of giving. Just not being able to see you and enjoy your presence was an extreme pain. I didn't think that this pain could get any worse. But of course, I was wrong and the pain grew immensely. You found someone else to give your love to. I was old news. Onto the next. You still had a bit of human in you. There was a small part of you that didn't want me to parish. You didn't want to completely stop avoiding me. So, you just started hanging out with me before school like I wouldn't notice the decline in how much time we were spending together.

I'm not mad. I'm not even sad. These emotions want to be set free and rile up a storm, but I would rather stay numb. When you're feeling lonely and don't have your boyfriend there to eradicate the loneliness present, I will be there in a snap. When you're hungry and I have stocked snacks in my bag for Wednesdays, because I can't order school lunches on Wednesdays, because Wednesday's are half-days and everybody has the same lunch on half-days, meaning that I would have to sit down and eat in the presence of you and your boyfriend... which I'm not going to do... I'll give you my Wednesday meal because your comfort is more important than my livelihood. When I buy two hundred dollar tickets for me and my friend Gavin to see a YouTuber we really like, and I find out you like the YouTuber too, I'll tell my friend Gavin that I'm taking a girl with me and take you instead even though I told him half a year ago that he was going with me. That's why I put an 'ex-' before friend while mentioning him earlier, because in the process of doing this, he said that I was a ******* ***** and he didn't want to hang out with me anymore. I don't mind, because your smile during the concert was more than enough to light up my days for weeks after the event. When you're wanting to walk with me and you're walking slow because gym class made you sore, and I'm walking fast because I have crippling anxiety and all I want to do is get the **** out of this highly populated school... I'll slow down and walk at your pace. When Satan comes knocking at your ******* bedroom door and asks you to **** one and save one, one being me and the other being your boyfriend, I will gladly run to your house and jump on Satan's blade so you don't have to make any decisions.

No matter what the circumstance, realistic or not, I desire your happiness above everything else.

I love you...
I don't expect you to read my story. Just getting it out there helps, so that's what I'm doing. Thanks for any likes, loves, or responses.
What does it mean to be a man of hues
One day I am blue
Making love in two's
On Wednesdays I am purple
A little unique and bizzurkle
On Fridays I may be green
Feeling oh so earthy and lean
Who knows which Monday I am pink
Maybe a little stink but as cute as a mink
The heat that keeps me alive
my beating heart exudes in an array of color
Why taste the rainbow when you are the rainbow
I laugh, I cry, I get excited and at times burst as a volcanoe
I am simply man of hues Who possess' Friends and foes
At the end of the day I am just a heat made radiation
What aRe you ?

— The End —