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Louise May 22
⁠Even if you are an enemy
who's bound to hurt me,
I would still ask you
to come sit and eat with me.
Even if you are an enemy
who's sent to capture me,
I would still ask you
to stay for a while,
share even this one meal with me.
Even if you are an enemy
who's ordered to **** me,
I would still ask you;
"Have you eaten?
Kumain ka na ba?
Ya comiste?
Ja has menjat?"
And if you say you haven't,
I'll take out the plates, but
I'll be angered.
Because look at the time!
And if you say you already did,
then I'd let you take me out,
my head lowered.
You can waste my time!
Even if you are an enemy
who's bound to hurt me...
In Tagalog, we don't say "I love you". We ask; "kumain ka na ba?"
solana May 12
i let my mind wander for miles and miles,
and always, i reach a dead end.

i think of your face,
your smile,
your taste,
the time we use to once spend.

everything’s different now
everything’s changed.

but im scared i still love you the same.
i never should have left.
el Mar 28
i just want to see
if he texted me back.
no, no,
i don’t really care,
it’s just that
when i talk to him, it feels as though my words are finally worth something.
it’s not like i cannot go by my day without his acquaintance,
i am a writer after all,
and i am accustomed to a life where my words are disregarded.
i speak to the wind and that is okay.
but i am a writer and all i want is
for somebody to listen to my ramblings
and to understand
me.
i just want to see
if he said hello;
because yes i can get by with him not texting me back,
my rants do not always have a response
(discontinued)
el Mar 20
these three words
they’re heavy for me to say
so let me show you instead
let me show you in the way i
hold your words close to my heart
i gather so many of them
scoop them into my arms to hug them tight
i love every word
they begin to overflow
drip
trail behind me ablaze
they are bright and they are yours
they warm my heart
let me show you in the way i
speak to you
pile of words aside
my three words are hard to say
not because they aren’t true
i can show you what I mean
when i understand your wants
amongst your needs
i'll love you in every way i can
Danielle Feb 22
I'm sure the multiverse is existing
I'm sure that I got you there
because I miss you every single day
and that feeling links to the other me.
I'm sure this yearning means that we're close in that other world.
Pagan Paul Jan 3
Winter is again upon me,
I stand at the window
and stare through scenes
of frost and falling snow.

An ache ascends through,
knotting from a dark core,
rising up like a free spirit
congealing lumpen in my throat.

I feel the chill creeping,
rub my arms and shudder,
the fire is burning so low,
and my eyes see dying embers.

The desire to stoke is dulled,
by apathy frozen in time,
my eyes turn to stare
through frost and falling snow.
White Shadow Dec 2023
In the quiet hush of evening's embrace,
I sense your absence, a lingering space.
Moonlight mirrors the glow in your eyes,
Yet, without you, it's just starlit skies.

Your laughter, a distant, haunting song,
Echoes in the silence, where you belong.
In the symphony of memories we share,
I find you in every whispered prayer.

As time dances on, a relentless tide,
Longing for you, my heart can't hide.
Each sunset a reminder of your touch,
I yearn for you, missing you so much.

In the canvas of dreams, you're a vivid hue,
A portrait of love that continues to grow.
The miles may stretch, but love persists,
Aching for the day we reunite with bliss.

May every breeze carry my love to you,
In the longing, may your heart stay true.
Until the moment when distance will cease,
Know you're missed, wrapped in love's increase.
Asominate Oct 2023
Clementines on a Sunday morning

I've had a taste of love
I fell down
Way too many times
This feeling's so surreal
Must be crime... Crime?

Subtle, subliminal
You come around like a criminal
And leave me yearning
For your
Clementines on a Sunday morning.
I tasted love when I tasted you.
Danielle Sep 2023
"As if I was gone away, too far not to yearn from the distance."

The sound of home away from home
is a wake up call on a dismal Sunday morning. It keeps telling me that I have to go but you are still lingering on every corner of this room, you are the faintest light through a window pane as it kindles me out of the dark (somehow).

I wonder how the traffic jams and
the hums of people on the street would bring you home, the crevices of the floor memorize the gaits and creaks of your footsteps, as if it's a map to our place. And how the furniture recognizes the shape of you as your memories are carved on it.

But I wonder why the sound of home away from home is telling me that it's time to go.
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