I am taking all these ships
Then again, like many other things,
I am not worth the time and effort
to build these things around on.
I am a sport
I can act “as if”
But I’m almost definitely certain
that these ships won’t sail.
Because how can I go on
when I, myself, have a lot of figuring out to do?
(The only reason to take the voyage
is on that old letter.
Though that’s a different story.)
97% Certainty | AG
One day, I saw some old letters on your desk.
As I skimmed through the faded words,
I realized that these were your thoughts
when you broke your heart a couple of years back.
Of course, I felt sadness.
I was sad, because I knew how hurt you were.
Each one was labelled by a date.
And one by one,
they had different levels of pain.
I wanted to soothe your heart.
On some papers were poems.
And being the writer that you are,
the words just made me picture your grieving soul
ever so vividly.
I met your pain.
Page after page,
your wounds became deeper.
But your poems devoured your sadness
as if it were the nourishment it needed to grow.
Then it struck me.
The reason why it affected me so much.
I wasn’t really sad because of your broken heart.
I was sad because I realized,
while reading all your spilled ink,
that I would never match this girl.
The girl who broke your heart,
but still made you dance with metaphors.
- Old Poems | AG
Ang sagot mo sa ‘kin
no’ng huling araw na nagkita tayo.
Pinilit kong magsalita pa,
kahit matagal ko nang alam
na wala nang natira
para pag-usapan pa.
Sa araw na ‘yon
hindi ko akalain na mayayakap kita.
Dahil alam kong ni minsan
hindi mo nagustuhan ang mga yakap.
(O baka ‘yong sa ‘kin lang?)
Kaya kahit no’ng mga panahong
"malapit" tayo sa isa’t isa,
lagi kong iniisip
kung hanggang ilang beses lang
pwede/dapat dumikit ang mga braso
ko sa ‘yo.
Pero sa araw na ‘yon
naging malinaw sa ‘kin
na hindi na ulit tayo magkikita.
kung maari ba.
"Oo naman." | AG
Do not fall in love with people like me. I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.
- Caitlyn Siehl | Literary Sexts: A Collection of Short & Sexy Love Poems
You have always told me
there are no words
you have been able to find
that makes sense of what
is inside you.
But why should you ever
become weary with that,
For words are just tiny winds
with sounds of different
arrangements, and even if you
are able to find the
by god if they ever come,
You have always made sense to
Even when you are nothing
but shattered pieces.
- Christopher Poindexter | Crumble life poem 46
I used to be so good at this before.
one glance at me
and I feel
people can see through everything
All those eyes
that I’m broken.
- Shelves | AG
Sometimes, I think I want to be an actress.
So that I can shut down my real self
even for a while
and be an entirely different person,
for a very legitimate reason.
I wouldn’t be thinking about reality,
instead I’ll be a character in a story.
All my actions will be rational, but based on the perception of another being.
All my words will be heard, but voiced out by a different name.
All my emotions will be real, but not mine.
And time will be controlled.
And all things will be fiction.
And everyone will make believe.
Until the director says “cut”
- She’s Gone | AG
Whenever I feel like comforting you with words
or even more so, a hug;
because I think that you might need them,
In my mind, I go to this moment:
From a couple of steps behind you,
I called your name.
You looked at me as if I was a stranger.
After reliving this distinct feeling
that I couldn’t even explain.
It is absolutely reaffirmed
that you don’t need me in your life.
Possibly, you never will.
And no amount of words
or even the tightest of hugs
can ever change that.
- Words and Hugs | AG
With distractions that happen
Refraction that matters is clear
Disappear in an empty room
Delphic's Red Lights | Acolyte
"Before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe."
- excerpt from Bone Burying by Andrea Gibson