With everything we’ve said and done, the word “friend” hurts.
With everything we’ve said and done, the word “friend” hurts.
wish I could talk
wish I could hear you talk
I wanna listen to your adventures
throughout those days and more
about how you woke up excited
or what you had for breakfast
about how your day went
or how you wish you could stay forever
about how breathtaking a view was
and I would agree .. meaning you .. cliche but I wish.
I wish I could hear your voice
repeating in my head .. is no longer enough ..
I really miss you, my love.
take care for me.
Disclaimer: This is going to be the Tagalog translated text of my previous post.
Sana hindi ka mapagod
dahil hindi patas ang mundo
at nakakawalang-gana ang mga tao
at may mga pagkakataon
na lahat ay malabo
Ikaw ang magiging tagapanood
sa sarili mong programa
kahit ikaw mismo ang direktor
sa sarili mong tahanan
Wala sa’yong makakikilala
kahit na sarili mo pa
Sana hindi ka pa rin mapagod
sa pagiging ikaw
kahit na hindi
ito mas nagiging madali
Sana hindi ka talaga mapagod
at kung ito man ay mangyari,
hayaan mong magpahinga ka muna
dahil ang mas magandang ikaw
words are no longer meaningful.
~ angelic things ~
♡ humming melodies as lovely as angel whispers.
♡ pink powdered cheeks
♡ being kind to everyone and everything
♡ being tender-hearted soul
♡ sugar coated winter wonderland dresses
♡ jewelry made of sea glass
♡ drinking peach nectar
♡ crying tears of sea foam
♡ sleeping in rose gardens on moss beds
♡ silky tangled wavy hair
♡ feeding homeless animals and taking care of woodland animals
♡ emberacing your childlike wonder & childlike innocence
♡ dressed in dusty lace dresses
♡ being in love not romantically but in small precious things that life offers
I have cleavage points
That are so precise
But random people
Seem to have the knack
To handle the tool
That breaks me into
a thousand pieces
I don’t usually do writing prompts, but lately I’ve been getting random ideas that just pop into my head. Thought I’d share these two in case they come in handy for someone one day.
• 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.
• 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐨? - 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 & 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞.
a dusting of rosy blush on her soft cheeks, ghost-pale skin, winter coat around her shoulders, winter wonderland dress with little sugar coated snowflakes and humming melodies as lovely as angels whispers. ♡
I didn’t see it coming
Not now and not before
Blindsided by hope
To the world I locked the door.
That was when they struck,
That was when they gathered.
And I did not hear them drawing
Until it no longer mattered.
The shutters on my window
Let in slices of cheerful light
I ignored the bigger picture
Put the lamp on in the night.
And then when I was ready
To embrace a new existence
I opened up the door
Expecting no resistance.
But they were all there waiting
And I was left alone
I’d shut out all the evil
Now it came into my home.
~Ignorance is bliss only for you.
i fell down the rabbit hole and i haven’t been the same since. i haven’t seen myself the same since the distorted mirror showed me all my flaws, and only my flaws, and i haven’t looked in a mirror since because i’m afraid that’s all i’ll ever see. i mistook a kind gesture as someone saying they wanted me, and i shrunk five times. i almost died drowning in my own tears, and no one seemed to care, so again, i had to do what no one could ever do, and save myself. i met two people who were too caught up in their own lives to see my struggle, and i walked away, even if i know they meant well. i wrecked someone’s home, and scared them away, because who could ever actually find a home within me? i forgot to mention that i met a blue caterpillar that did too many drugs, he thought he was actually happy. me being the hero i always try to be, i tried to make him genuinely happy, and i made him feel worse. i met the queen of hearts, and in the end, i realized i did everyone so much harm, that i should just keep to myself maybe. but i need to tell the queen of hearts that i actually do have a kind heart, and if giving it to her on a silver platter is what it takes for people to be okay, and realize i mean well, then so be it. but then again, maybe that’s how i got here in the first place. by always trying to prove my worth, and never actually letting it be enough for myself.
what has you so afraid
what keeps you far away
answer Him, this fear melts
call Him, what harm would it do
when you’re already empty and afraid
There are breath marks
on your window shop eyes
and pennies in my pocket.
I am tracing letters
in the dust
on your back
in my mind.
is a hunger I am comprised of,
my lips are denied;
and I’m done waiting.
￼Date someone who is really interested in you. I don’t mean someone who thinks you’re cute or funny. I mean someone who wants to know every single detail about you. Someone who wants to read every word you write. Someone who wants to hear every note of your favorite song or watch every scene of your favorite movie. Someone who wants to find every scar on your body and learn where they came from. Someone who wants to know your favorite brand of toothpaste and how you drink your coffee. Someone who wants to know how you spent your childhood and why you’re afraid of spiders. There is a difference between attraction and interest. Find the person who wants to learn every aspect of who you are.
I guess there’s certain pain to be fully aware of our own insanity
The Vulnerability of the Heifer
A black cow’s head, with gold titanium horns, jutting forward by a foot and a half.
Bloodshot blues stare back at you.
The woman is a tired, heavy, creature.
A black suit, tailored to fit.
A tie as blue as her eyes.
The cow, I am the cow.
A slow, languid, gait and gentle tired eyes, weighed heavy by my lashes.
Perceived as slow, perceived as helpless, perceived as prey.
They pay so much mind to my soft eyes, they forget I have horns.
My Rubenesque form is anticipated to be sluggish, and yes, I am certainly not known for my agility and quickness, but for your own sake, don’t believe me to be a vulnerable calf, awaiting sacrifice.
I don’t charge like the bull.
I am the heifer, the matriarch, the queen of the pasture.
I will stand strong against your blows, entirely unbudging in my stance.
My robust legs have a potent kick, my horns powerful and lethally pointed.
Do not think they are untouched by blood.
My gaze remains as calm as the sea as you are trampled by my polished hooves.
Consider carefully little wolf, how will your fangs fair against my thick coat, how will your lithe body fair against my bone-crushing hooves, my lethal horns?
Little wolf, who is truly the prey?
Thomas asked the taxi driver to stop on the corner and let him out. It was too difficult to explain the rest of the journey so simply asked to be let go and he would walk instead. The yellow taxi driver obliged and few up to let him out. He dipped his right hand in his skinny black jeans and pulled out the right amount.
“Sure thing mate.” the driver responded.
Thomas handed over the money before he thanked the driver and stepped out. He reached back in to collect his duffel bag as well as his backpack and thanked the driver once again. He slammed the door shut and watched as the driver stuck a hand out of the window to say his goodbyes before he was nothing more than a distant memory moments later. Thomas reached into his other pocket and took out the sheet of paper which had the directions on it. He’d been dropped off at station road and would now need to walk the rest of the way. He threw won his backpack and then picked up his duffel bag in his opposite hand and then marched onwards. The roads in Fulham were complicated and he found himself shuffling down one street before cautiously pacing down another. Fulham was a lot way away from Essex but he’d needed the break away from everything. HIs degree in economics was proving to be a drain on his well-being so he’d made the ultimate sacrifice. Give up the smartphone and go on a holiday away where nobody would be able to contact him. He could leave his life behind, albeit briefly. He continued down the complicated pathways until he reached his destination. The cottage was an old style, thatched roof which wouldn’t keep out the winters cold but it didn’t matter. The cottage was a beauty to behold. It looked to have its original doors and features as well and the garden out front was exquisite. A range of flowers and overgrown trees complimented each other as he briskly walked down the path towards the front door and used the old bolt key to unlock the door. It creaked as he stepped inside. Slowly looking the door behind him as he closed his eyes allowed him to switch off from the world that once was. He promised himself that he would have no communication with the outside world and allow himself that break.
I wonder where she keeps the kettle.
The cold seeped through the house. Part of the reason why his aunty chose not to live in the old cottage. It was a holiday home now for everybody in the family. Thomas was the youngest of his siblings. He had two older sisters and a brother who was only a couple of years older than him. His mother and father had been together since they were 16 and had stayed together ever since. Although there was plenty about their marriage which required work. There was also a love between the two of them which had never seemed to fade away. He reached the kitchen cupboards and rooted around for a hot drink to have. Plenty of coffee aligned the bottom self of the upper cupboard but he had no interest in coffee. Instead he continued to browse through upper cupboards until he reached the 6th one along and opened the door by its dated wooden handle. Several boxes of tea lined the shelves and he collected one brand new box and placed it next to the candle which at under the first cupboard. A quick fill up and a flick of the switch and Thomas allowed the water to boil. While he waited, he went back to the living room as the whistle from the kettle intensified. The cottage had been laid out so that each room was separated by a wooden wall. A door was required everywhere that he went and had to open one to get from each room. A door even greeted him at the top of the stairs as he begun the pathway of the landing. Whether it was done to keep the cold contained, he wasn’t sure. His room was the one at the end of the landing on the left and he required another key to unlock it. Remembering that the keys were downstairs, he plodded along the landing towards the stairs before a knock sounded from the front door. Thomas hadn’t expected anybody and his aunty hadn’t told him that they had people drop by. Thomas jogged down the stairs before slowly creaking the door open and being grateful for the fact that he did. In front of him stood the most beautiful woman that he had seen for a long time. Graceful blonde hair flowed all the way down to her shoulders and her piercing blue eyes stared directly at him yet the petite friendly smile was enough to cause him to practically fall in love immediately. Thomas was overwhelmed and found that he couldn’t speak.
“Good morning.” The woman began.
Her voice was sweet like chocolate and Thomas found himself staring at him somewhat too intensely.
“Good morning.” he remembered to say after staring the woman down.
“My name’s Alison. I’m your next-door neighbor. I’m going to guess that you’re Thomas?”
“That’s me.” he replied as she held out a hand.
Alison exuded confidence and Thomas found it infectious. He found himself correcting his posture to standing up straight after being slumped against the door while they were talking. She held his hand in a shake for a few moments but it was Thomas who seemed to hold her hand longer than was normal.
“Well,” she spoke uncomfortably after he let go of her hand. “It’s good to welcome you to the area. Like I said, I’m only next door and I live alone so if there’s anything that you need from me. Just let me know.”
“There is one thing.”
“Do you have any sugar?”
will you stand with me,
As the world dissolves?
From a mountain top,
Kilometers away from the nearest town.
Would you hold my hand,
As that town
And floated away?
Ashes flying on the wind,
Layering grey over our skin.
Will you hold me while we fall?
Would you catch me if you could?
Will you stand with me,
And watch the world