Poetry

dormant feelings

Time will lead you back
to old conversations
long interpreted
to forced messages
accidentally deleted
to sweet words
never expressed.

Vaguely asking questions:
has the heart healed
is the love still there
did the pain go away
are feelings just dormant?

I hope in your mind the answers land.

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Strange

my moon

And it just dawned on me that we’re halfway through the year.

I wonder if I’m anywhere near my dreams, if I can reach my goals, and if my feelings are valid and real.

Some days are full of doubts, some are blooming with colors, and the others sound just the same—the monotonous life that we lead to survive. 

This night looks similar to the nights before, when a simple fact or idea that entered my mind will make me look at my life, the past, particularly. And then comes a rational female voice which reminds me that what I have right now is more important than dwelling with what’s gone, with the past. It will also whisper something sweet, that there’s something to look forward to in the future.

And right when I’m about to sleep, the stars will put me in awe, especially the one that’s closest to the moon. It kind of tells me to hold on to my life dearer, or even as much as it holds on to the sky, just to see the moon. 

And maybe that’s why I wake up each day, to get closer to my moon.

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Poetry

Unwanted

sad-unwanted-girl-black-and-white-photography-poetry

Look at me like tigers do to deer—
magnetized, cunning, and greedy.
Notice me as detectives gather clues—
observant, regardful, and determined.
Possess me like how you possess her—
quaint, anxious, and grasping.

Receive my heart and hold me blind,
savor this maiden with loathe in mind.
Treat me as a gift you did not ask,
until all the present turn to past.

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Poetry

If We’re Together

couple cafe sad ifs coffee girl boy

If we were having
coffee right now,
you’d ask me what
this poem is about.

I’d make up a story on
how I saw the shoes
of my dreams taken
away by some lady
who has more cash
in her hands.

You’d tell me that
there are a lot of
shoes in the world
and I would find
something that is
more special.

I’d smile at you
and you’d ask me why.
I’ll then say that
this poem is for us.

You left me for some
girl who had more
curves in her bod.

I looked for a man
who is far more than
special than you are.

If we were having
coffee right now,
I won’t be captivated
by his radiant eyes.

Writing 101’s Task: Over a Cup of Coffee. [Photo]

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Poetry

Not Sweet Sixteen

explore-independent-woman-light-sky

A flat tire in my throat
Salt river down my cheeks
The clown’s red puffy nose
And a blue handkerchief

My heart screaming “Stop!!”
But the body keeps going on
The mind finally speaks up
All things happen for a reason

So I waited for the year to pass
Hoping I’d find myself along
But I found other people instead
And they made me wanna move on

Turns out, I was never really gone
And everything was just an illusion
The emotions from the first stanza
It’s just me craving for attention

Daily Post’s Only Sixteen.

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Poetry

Amnesia

Illustrations-Diego-Fernandez-5

There’s a problem with my eyes.
When the left one is close,
I could barely see the memories
we had.

There’s a problem with my eyes.
When the left one is open,
I could clearly see the future
we lost.

There’s a problem with my eyes.

But there’s also a problem with yours.

It doesn’t matter when your eyes
are open or close, for either way
you wouldn’t recognize the lady
you loved.

This is in response to the Daily Post’s writing prompt Don’t You Forget About Me. [Photo]

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Poetry

Gone

You shouldn’t forget the past,
no matter how good or bad it was.
But if you feel like reminiscing
those of your previous happenings,
be sure to think not much
while recalling any circumstance.
You wouldn’t wanna cry
after that short while
of looking back at the things
you’ve already left behind.

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