four of a kind

Poetry

The woman confused the girl
with no social cues

The girl fell for the man
with an awkward bruise

The man delighted the boy
with no smart views

The boy cried for the woman
with some awful issues

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puppet or partner

Strange

Did it ever occur to you that the same letters from the word listen make up that of the word silent? And how much I freeze when the thorns coming out of your mouth as harsh as the wind touch my skin?

Have you ever considered looking up the dictionary for the difference between a puppet and a partner? And how much of a mannequin I become whenever you place your hand on my shoulder?

Did it ever occur to you that you were in a relationship?

Have you ever considered I was part of it?

Did you ever even think about me?

And how your unwillingness to concede would make me leave?

The Night I Walked Away

Poetry

Then the stage lights dimmed
As slow as my heavy breathing
A band of nine started to sing
As I walked farther from him

It was a night of pain and glee
Though the songs hit me badly
All my illusions became blurry
Then I turned light and free

The band stopped playing
But the lights are still dim
I casually left on a whim
Without him even caring

The Golden Boy

Poetry

what is there to be bewildered about?
when the sun glows on your skin
and the flowers bloom in your heart

what is there to be confused for?
when your skin touched my bones
they radiate with light
when your heart caressed my soul
the pigments intensify

what is there to be doubtful of?
when my bones start to burst
you come out for the sun
and bury me deep in your arms
when my soul turns to gray
you keep weeds out the flowers
and paint me back with fire

unnamed emotions

Poetry, Strange

I believe there are more emotions out there we don’t even know the name of. We try to associate them to a certain feeling so other people could understand, but they couldn’t; not even you could understand it, let alone people who don’t really care.

I believe love is all the emotions out there we don’t even know the name of. We try to associate it to a certain feeling so other people could understand, and they do; because everyone understands it, let alone people who haven’t loved at all.

P.S. A (stupid) theory I wrote October of last year. But seriously I was just waiting for a prompt to publish this, which I know isn’t how prompts work. Lol oh well

the trickiest

Poetry

Among all the stares I know

The lustful look is the trickiest

You pass by each other at work

Then all eyes are under arrest

Across the room full of adults

Our presence craves connection

If we are locked inside four walls

Bodies will be inseparable til dawn

dormant feelings

Poetry

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.

things get bleak

Photography

Some bridges burn
Some things get bleak
Some people hurt
Some friends don’t speak