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Oh love,

One day when we meet distance will just be a matter of the warm breaths in between our lips;

And the talking will happen through the eyes and the twirling of fingers, on a quiet day trip.

The day would speed up and slow down at the same time;

I’ll want you to stay for the night, while I hold you in my arms and call you mine.

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image

-Melvin Yamat


He bite the forbidden fruit on January night,

Playing with fire caused mystery and fright.

Don’t know what he wants, he just write;

Unable to think straight, there is no light.

Became slave of the snake, it’s insane;

There is no time machine, nothing on his brain.

Black roses that he planted,

Thorns ain’t hurts it’s intended.

Locked himself in the room, confinement’s extended;

Crooked line that was draw, he is suspended.

The light of fake protagonist in the dark,

Wolf was left behind without a question mark.

Then he walked slowly to find the gate,

To have an amnesia on those specific dates.

One day he wake, feeling exhausted

Realization was all in his bed.

He wants to change, to be something new;

Don’t need many, just a few.

Avoided things with the sense of negativity,

Fed his soul with full of positivity.

Took a month to see the dawn,

Cautious me, I turned it on.

Rainbow shines after the rain,

I met someone, he ease this pain.

He washed those dirty laundries in my brain;

His name is self, will never sob again.

Drama and heartbreaks are no fun;

Chain unlocked, cage is now gone.

I can now breathe, no longer drowning;

More than glad without a face of frowning.

I see myself, I kissed the mirror;

Life is great even with full of error.

Hug yourself, embrace your flaws;

Let your wings spread and fly with different colors. 🌈

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Morning breath


The sun peaks it’s

weary head over the still,

slumbering horizon,

The morning arrives

as trumpets of roosters

Sing,

The morning will momentarily

grace us but easy come, easy go,

The breeze of morning breath

as flowers perk and

children wake,

parents rub the slumber from

their eyes and brace

for a day filled with

nonchalant chit chat that

makes the most eager of

minds weary,

the sun engulfs the day

before hiding again,

leaving the moon to

fend for itself

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The oppressed


Standing silent in the face

of the beast.

The beast has a name but

the elite are too scared

to say it.

Oppre…

No!

Don’t say it

Hush your voice or he

will hear,

His enemy is the truth,

he knows no colour

as he tortures the poor

the vulnerable,

the weak,

he swallows us whole

engulfing all our dreams.

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Mishu More

It’s almost shameful

The extent I go through

Just to feel you

Checking your social media

Just to see you

Rereading old text messages

To feel like I still talk to you

Smelling my pillows

Because they still smell like you

Holding my own body to comfort it

Because it still calls for you

I am truly embarrassed

At how much I miss you

I guess I’m breaking my own heart

By still caring for you


@nerdysunflowerqueen

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Pagod na kong laging mag-isip kung nasan na ba tayo? Nasaan na yung mga pangako. Yung mga katagang binitawan mo? Nasaan na?

Hindi ko naman tinago sayo yung kalagayan ng isip at ng diwa ko. Pero bakit ganito? Sadya bang nakikipaglaro ka lang o kung ano?

Sabihan mo naman ako, para kahit papano'y alam ko naman kung saan ako pupuwesto.

Kung ipaglalaban pa ba o susuko na?

Kung maghihintay pa ba o lilimot na?

Nawa'y sumagot kana, nang matapos na, sapagkat pagod na ang utak ko sa lahat ng pagdududa at pangamba,

sayo at sa sarili pa.

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Sheep stand in cubicles

by the hour,

casting strangers into

positions of

power.

Spineless beings of

nothingness minutes before

glorifying their strength.

The sheep are kept in

cubicles forever,

no room to escape,

the leaders lead from

the back,

the same back you get stabbed

in,

forever lost and nowhere to be found

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Amour


The sound of birds cheering,

Flowers bloom on a cold

Winter’s day,

The air is pure

and men are singing

on their

gondolas,

I drift peacefully through

a river with no end

in sight

The banks have burst and

Im flooded with expressions,

I am reminded that my

band is eternal

and the bond forever strengthened

until death do us part,

and even then

our souls intertwined

by heavenly divine

love

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Bijoux.

…its because I can’t run to you, to the one who made me feel like my tears were worth something, rather than meaningless drops of solitude.

Ironic, because now I’m only able to gift you my tears, whereas I’d want to share a bundle of happiness.

But believe me, I would if I felt some. I would run to you without a worry in the world, but its because I have never had anything else to offer but my tears, that I can’t run to you.


—aphrodit3e

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Thank Heaven! the crisis – The danger is past, And the lingering illness Is over at last – And the fever called “Living” Is conquered at last.

~ by Edgar Allan Poe, For Annie

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Thoughts in my head


These little minions,

Doing the dirty work of my darker self,

Plaguing my serene village,

They attack vulnerability,

Fear being their main course.

The monsters aren’t under my bed

They are in my head,

Lurking under a veil of electric impulses,

The devil sits on my shoulder whilst

My guardian angel slumbers.

They are a menace, a dark menace.

The minions change perceptions,

their ability to attack the optic nerve

And bring darkness upon it.

Perception is a vulnerable village

with very little protecting it.

They worm their way under and over

High walls and attack all the emotions hiding under coffee tables and inside closets.

They soar high above the clouds and

Torpedo downwards, spiraling into roofs

And crashing happiness.

These minions are smart, the devil their

Leader.

The master manipulator.

He slithers over your shoulder and hisses,

Chills run down your spine while he

Slithers upwards.

Stupid, selfish, sadness, sabotage

His hisses gentle like a lamb

But he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

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There is no place

to bury these memories

Of all that we could have been,

I wish I was freely living

just like you do,

after leaving.

Oh, but my

love was true,

it’s still breathing,

somewhere within me..

Sparkandashes

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is it really that tough to find a guy that loves classic literature just as much as I do, who will go to the art museum with me and who will not hesitate to make a blood pact with me?

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