Poetry

Writers Lie

I lie.

But I don’t like lying.
Still, I do.

I lie on the things I write.
My emotions are real—
some, at least.

But I twist them
so as to appear dramatic.
Coz that’s how you should write.
And that’s what writers do.

I connive with words
and make them work for me.
So that every sentence
every phrase or even pauses
could trigger a feeling.

An emotion
so real
so honest
only a lie
could make them
come out.

Daily Post’s Flawed.

Advertisements
Standard
Bitter

Demand for Authenticity

Illustrations-Diego-Fernandez-11I’m tired of looking at something I can’t have. I constantly block my senses from working—my eyes from seeing, the thought from coming, and the feelings(!)—almost hating them for functioning properly. But the itch on my heart just keeps growing, gently and then suddenly.

I’m tired of living in the back of my mind instead of walking with reality. My body is hungry and it’s craving for something definite, something real. But the world I made for myself is bewitching.

I’m tired of wanting prohibited dreams. People. And things. But my ears stubbornly listen to my articulate brain talking its way through things by teaming up with my very desires.

We’re tired of liking something we can’t have. But we do it anyway. Because the thought of it is thrilling, our eyes spark for it’s fireworks that we see, and the feelings(!), unlike any that we know of. We’re tired, but we keep on thinking anyway. For it deceives our minds and makes us happy for a moment; happy because of an imagination and even though happiness is a myth. We’re tired but we keep on wanting, on yearning the prohibited. Because no matter how much we try to fool ourselves that everything will be better if we follow the right track, the impalpable forces will pull us back to show us what we truly love.

[Photo]

Standard
Swift Saturdays

I’m Only Me When I’m With You | Swift Saturdays

Livin’ in a crazy world, tryin’ to figure out what is and isn’t true.

.

One of the many things that we always do is to know whether something is real or not. Everyday we are faced with different situations that make us question the validity of a certain matter. We try to look deeper so we could figure out if what we see or feel, or what’s before us is true. We wanna know if emotions are genuine, if what we get back is really what we deserve, and if what’s happening to us is just right.

Some things, we could easily determine, but probably the most difficult thing to conclude or to understand is what we feel. Or what others feel. It’s even hard to tell when someone’s being honest or not because we know for a fact that we ourselves are also capable of lying. So finding out our true feelings is a little complicated especially when we try to deny what’s in our hearts. What more the feelings of others? Of the people around us? Trying to know if they’re sincere or otherwise could make us go nuts.

In this crazy world, we sure have a lot of figuring out to do.

Standard
Poetry

The Letter

I wonder
why you throw
a letter so honest,
so real.

You hate the person
who gave it.
Is that why?
You’re hurt.
You don’t care.

The chills it gave
when read is unbelievable.

No matter
the reason,
three words
I wanna give.

Keep the letter!

It makes us weak.

Standard
Poetry

Indirect

To sigh after a long story,
or to gasp when you hear something silly;
Two of the wonders you can’t do
if online chat is what you’re into.

Looking at the person in the eye
is a cute act you can’t deny,
But that would lose its magic
even with Skype as your sidekick.

How about his expressions, real time?
And to hold her hands as a pastime?
Things that are stripped away from us;
That’s what online communication does.

Not to mention the words genuine and sincere.
Now, it will be hard to know if something’s real.

This is in response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt It’s a Text, Text, Text, Text World.

Standard