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yellowgogh Jul 2020
there was a song
that i heard a little bit too often
under the nightfall
that had no constellation aligned
on its sky.

there was a song
that i heard a little bit too loud
with my earphones
that had me forgotten how my voice resonated across the room of night sky.

there was a song
that i heard and never completed
because i couldn’t bear to reach its end
and would wish to constantly
threw it back to the first melody.

there was a song
that i heard and never knew
how the last melody would try to convey
its feeling
to this selfish embodiment of fallen soul

that was a song
that i heard with you
when everything was bounded
to come to its end
and i saw your back walking away
from me.
yellowgogh Jul 2020
wrapped in a murky darkness,
barely felt anything against the skin(s).
even inhaling the air ached
the heart of hers.
but she was still trying to grasp it
down to the lungs,
just for a desperate hope,
about someone pulling her out
from the obscurity.

as for the unknown time kept ticking,
her presence slowly weakened.
she could barely remember
how to use her senses,
how to feel like
a human.

she was losing
herself
in a murky darkness.
waiting for a desperate hope.
yellowgogh Feb 2021
Enervated with these demands of
needing explanations to everything
she had done.
She was worn out, until her nose bled
her heart pounded, her ears rang and
her eyes turned white
— She was almost out of breath.

Did you even bother to know this?

Because the very first thing
people would ask to her
wasn’t “How do you feel on this?”
But, “What is your contribution on this?”
yellowgogh Aug 2020
standing across more than a sea,
with a supposedly related sky
of the connate stars
from the universe
of the same creator.

breathing similar air
of different habitations,
stepping on the inconsistent heights of land,
swimming within unalike taste
of sea waters
and, out of millions beings that give:
joy, sadness and, other emotions.

i choose you.
yellowgogh Aug 2020
to my limitation about the distance,
i withstand the heartbreak.
unconcern to other humans’ emotions
but, the broken piece
of being out of reach
of not having you in my arms
when things are falling apart
and i see you are too,
from far.

but the world isn’t a kind place,
to restore the heartbreaks of
two person(s) in love.
despite the devilish heartless fate
of the universe,
the sky and stars give the chance
to wish for the
unspoken and hopeful words,
for those which are in love.
yellowgogh Aug 2020
just how many more skies
need to be fallen
for me to be able
breathing a life
that has you
by my side?
yellowgogh Sep 2020
little she did know,
her bruises had been
the fertile soil of
wildly beautiful flowers
and, her tears had watered them
to not just be a season bloom,
but a forever spring.
yellowgogh Jan 2021
Wherever or however it’ll be hidden,
it will stink badly when it’s rotten.
yellowgogh Jul 2020
(Pt. 1)

❝ She was protected with care
and excessive love,
for her not to be harmed by exteriors.
She was ******* inside the room of comfort;
sitting down with all what girls ever wanted.
She was the beautiful princess in the
castle full of surprises.

Her skin gleamed purity,
she had never been dwelled in the crowd
of the sinners, those devotees of the sun.
Though, the moon was the safest
out of all universe particles,
but nothing was in her league.

She almost never ran,
but she walked with sweetness
in her every taken steps
along the corridors that she passed.

She smelled like the spring of the seasons.
her eyes had the taste of the hot chocolate
in the rainy afternoon.
And, her smile would feel like a warm hug
that might tickle your stomach a little bit.

As she went back to her room,
all could see the firm back of her body
carrying the perfections of her own.

What a perfect beautiful liar.
She tried so hard to look okay. ❝
yellowgogh Jul 2020
and again,
rolling back the paper that had written
by the every words that worth tears
of my own.

and again,
climbing up from the abyss that had only
myself falling again to the pit
by the tiny pebbles,
by the mistakes
of my own.

and again,
failing to be a person that would probably
feel proud for herself.

and,
it was tiring.
yellowgogh Jul 2020
there was something so content
about what the rain tryin’
to whisper about
him and her.

for its each drops
were scraping the air
into thinner layer,
that fall upon the skins of
twos who were innocent enough
to not know
their hearts got the same pace.

— The End —