February 2012
136 posts
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Of Mice And Misanthropes: ambiguous-transparency... →
My hubby is an Arctic war hero. Laksh, I really hope you win this war so you can come back home and we can tinychat again, newly-found affection blooming in the air. You can talk about all the gory tales and I will cling to every word, because you are truly a hero in my heart. Come back safely, hubby. I miss you so much.
Love, Jenny the Wifey.
ofmiceandmisanthropes:
ambiguous-transparency...
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I woke up this morning and found myself thinking of a new stranger. His unfamiliar smile was more vividly painted on my sun-bathed white ceilings with every sleepy blink.
I’ve been waiting for you, I have been. You make the reason for my rosy cheeks more transparent and less ambiguous.
I have been.
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Inescapable.
You stand in the midst of the brightly-lit room and I find myself unable to enter, for I hear the disdain murdering peace, scared for its hands dangling too dangerously from the body.
The smile pasted on your face is peeling off from the heat staring from above and I see who you truly are, nature’s sincerest marvel.
You’re such an ambition and an inspiration, chaining yourself in the...
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I wish I could tell you that everything is going to go exactly how you want it to go. But I can’t. But please, let me tell you something else. See, I know I’m not the most beautiful girl on the planet, the one with the perfect body, the most dazzling smile and an impeccable resume. I don’t have any of those and to be entirely truthful, I am so very fine with that. I know...
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Jenny is my fucking spirit animal.
Amy is my fucking spirit animal. We can sing like turtles and whales. LOVE US. ;)
WE HAVE A HOUSE MADE OUT OF CUPCAKES.
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back in the days.
I watch insanity listen to sanity sing its last lullaby and shake hands with serenity, as the darkness starts reeling its clandestine film, screeching wails bouncing off the walls of my restless heart, its beats humming the name I once used to call with affection and happiness.
Drowning in the whiskey of lachrymose, I am sober from its charms but intoxicated with its violent waves, pure mental...
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Understanding.
The ultimate truth is, I can’t watch my innermost thoughts getting soaked by your smile that vanishes with my nervous blink and a minute flinch of my fingers wary of another tragedy.
I can’t write about how I am so very destructively in love with you, for I know that I need an escape prepared for the days that will become too grim for my tongue infatuated with just merely the idea...
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I’m happier because now I know I can be loved. I’m calmer because now I know you don’t matter much to me.
I’m fulfilled because now I don’t have to be halted due to my own insecurities.
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Confession.
If I answer your phone call with “yeah?” instead of “hello?” that means I think we’re close enough skip the formal greetings. Unless you want me to answer otherwise. *But to my mom, it’s “Mom?” and to my dad it’s “Dad?”
I don’t wear color contacts and I like cookies.
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Today.
With every heartbeat broiling the heart, pieces of it crumbled endlessly to dust.
With a handful, I treasured every speck of it because I knew that someday, someone would treasure me enough to give it a second chance, heavenly teardrops molding my heart with colors so vibrant, shape so exceptionally, affectionately original that it was believed to be only mythical.
Someday, my heart will grow...
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I am only courageous enough to lower my guard in the darkness.
The sunlight hurts my heart too much because that’s when I am most hauntingly beautiful, no signs of internal decay.
Truth can’t pretend but reality can fantasize.
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here and there.
Where are you, where are you, I feel your thoughtful smiles cleansing all horrific whispers within my mind.
Where am I, where am I, I am lost within my confusion, a puzzle with transparent walls but with no clues to read what is unspoken and kept.
Chilly nights in the center of the city risen from the fog, nothing is heard except for the rustles of past already drained of its colors, the future...
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I heard you arguing, mommy. You were mad at daddy for enjoying his weekend out with his friends while you were at home on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, trying to look after two children while busying yourself with household chores inevitable.
You probably looked at all your friends and how their significant others always seemed to spend their time at home with their families, going to nice...
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Unpredictable.
I wonder if you know how I count your smiles in my memories of you fading away as you move on with your life, how I gather teardrops from dreaming of you sometimes, and treasure them because they feel warmer yet more wistful.
But I smile for you, not because I still want a future with you but because the past we have together was never intended for me, just sheer coincidence that our eyes met...
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You don’t always have to live for someone else, put meanings behind every being, everything. If you don’t deem yourself worthy of living for, then you can never see the true raw beauty of nature, dream of laying the brightest stars before your youthful feet and let them share their ambition and glory with you, as you walk towards the future that the past was afraid of repeating and...
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I remember riding on that bus, especially because it was lunchtime and I got on it right in front of a college, to visit the forgotten part of town that always held a special place in my heart. I remember all the sunsets I marveled at on my old balcony, the playground with rusted swings and squeaky seesaws, the school with wooden floors that I used to be afraid to fall down all the time. So I got...
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To silly anons who think they can tell someone...
yousoothemysoul:
First of all, you suck Second, A FREAKING POEM IS WHEN THE FREAKING WRITER EXPRESSES THEMSELVES ARTISTICALLY USING WORDS/PHRASES OF THEIR CHOICE. IT’S THEIR CHOICE, STUPID. Let the artist do its work Let the writer whisk you away as you sit there quietly weeping in their sheer existence You know you’re jealous
She’s truly a marvel. So very sweet, thank you, darling....
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Falling.
I am falling too far below and it feels like I’m going up, with my feet kicking away the light above.
The poisoned mind feels sickeningly light, a balloon inflated to the point of bursting, while the light is shrinking and the dark echoes all around, flower petals floating, caressing my cheeks, thrilled for this adventure.
This is a fall with no thuds at the end, for this is the end to...
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Myriad.
For as long as my mind can recall, I traced the fine linings of the horizon, my feet buried in the great fiery sun so furious, the wind blowing between my hair with fierce warnings to lay my heart on another galaxy on the other side.
I was pursuing abyss to fill the void, this molecular gap that chilled the very core of my soul, to set passion to my eyes that once gleamed like stars.
The...
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Confession.
I have been reaching out to you for the longest time, hoping you would take the time to hear my cries out.
For I am that ambiguously transparent individual. I am the person you have been searching for. Please take me for who I am. I beg of you.
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615. →
She used all my favorite words in this piece. I am in love with her amazing ability to write something so very beautiful. I am very grateful. Thank you for pulling this off. You always amaze me beyond words, and this is one of those times where I sit in awed silence.
girlbrokendown:
Her poetic promises dripped down her chin in glorious stanzas and half verses so that her paramour would stay by...
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Insurmountable.
No matter how much you hurt me, I will protect you when she hurts you.
Because I know that you only have me; that’s why you turn to me to take out all of your anger and frustration. Because you know that I will always carry you on my shoulders, even if the weight of your world shatters every bone in my body counting.
And I only have you to smile for, to laugh with, to share thoughts with...
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Sometimes I look back all the scars life left me in disbelief. Because, you know, they never heal and they’re just there, tattooed for me to look and realize that I never truly survived anything without getting hurt. I think I’m doing relatively better now, but all it takes is one small touch at the scars for the hurt to ripple all over my body.
I will always be broken. All I can do...
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I never saw you because you were right in front me and all I tried to do was peek into the future too far away.
By the time I caught you, your back was already turned. I may have been the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.
So fly away to better, happier places because I know I can never have you.
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Walking on the bridge to silence, I looked into the eyes of the stars and inhaled the stale words, the very ones that shattered dreams of redemption, reconstruction.
What awaits me at the end of this tattered bridge is unknown, time clicking its tongue in bitter disapproval, for I was only a cheater in its hourglass, drowning for survival and forgiveness.
You stand there alone, with crossed arms...
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Fool's Paradise.
I painted a photograph of you with the loveliest significant other, floating in the clouds, blooming time congratulating such union.
Must have been a paradise, to see the wonders of the world below, to feel like you can jump on the rainbows and paint your life with the brightest, wonderous colors nature has to offer.
So here I sat and painted in solitude, giving you more than everything on my...
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Destined Soul.
I was born without a soul or destiny.
As I lived, I collected every atom from every memory of every event that has ever happened to me, and started created a soul for myself, something I knew truly defined me.
I refused to be labeled as someone at birth. Because to me, that’s what life was not.
Living my destiny was the worst I could do to myself. When I stepped outside the boundary, I...
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Everything started and
nothing ended with you.
Infinite, you are.
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Conquest.
Sit beside me in the midst of this field of harshness, bitterness; let the wind graze your frozen cheeks like bullets and shed a few teardrops for the stings rippling, but hold my hand.
The clock is dying with obnoxious wails, restless silence preached in our eyes but nothing matters when you hold my hand, even when the grass stains black from filth and the gateway to the future is blocked by the...
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you and that guitar.
You were that one guitar string that broke over and over again but couldn’t be replaced for some reason.
So I could never play the guitar just the right way but let it gather the dust of time passing by and stare at it until my eyes dried.
I vividly remember the songs I used to play with it, all the beautiful melodies that can now only be sung inside my ears, the voice lost in its...
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Heartbroken.
There is no point in evacuation attempts, for the exit has already been vanished into thin air and here you will reside, in this vast mind of mine, until the ability to think slips away with ticks and tocks of time.
Don’t be heartbroken, I can’t give you mine for you to break. Instead you can prick the walls of my mind until it bleeds all rationality and I’m left with...
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Every day I sit by the window and think of falling, shattering the skull and question if any thought worth pursuing will ever spill from it.
But of course I wouldn’t know. My heart would stop first while the mind lingers for a few more seconds, savoring the taste of death.
boywandering:
I’ll be spending the night in the city of the stars. All I want to do is spend the night in your arms.
Come at me, haters. I got this boy’s lovin’.
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That country path cut from a field- hostile memories in golden oat where I ran so very fast where I ran until the sweat covered me where I pulled my hat off and screamed as the cool midnight breeze gave my soul back to me.
All this time I longed to be whole, to feel more than alive, the breeze setting passion to my mind and hypnotizing all fear to dance away from my eyes clouded, all before my...
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Feat.
Things are changing too soon and you see the wave coming to swallow you, to wipe your existence off this planet.
The sand clings to your feet to comfortably prick you, the heart beating just a bit off tune. You gulp your overwhelming fear a tick too soon and feel the sudden emptiness in your hands boiling your eyes, sweating tears to put out the panicky fire.
A rush of adrenaline can buy you two...
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I find myself clutching for youth, much like your hand that I can never force to keep on holding until my heart calms down and the senses open up for better judgment, better understanding.
Life is nothing but open for interpretation, but the eyes see the truth in reality, as raw or dramatic as it may get.
Some things become nothing, nothing becomes to be everything.
I am you, you are life, life...
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killingcharlemagne:
I can see every monster as they come in. - Truman Capote
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I think it’s okay to hate the place you are at right now. What’s important is that you want to move to a better place, that you are more than willing to start changing.
What matters is that you don’t want to be stopped.
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Answer Questioned.
Where did I go wrong?
All this time I’ve been walking in triangles, never circles because I know where I started, but never precisely at what point I will end. This triangle should fairly be easy to comprehend, but why is it so difficult, like a maze with no exit?
The ground smells like subdued voices, the wind blowing my hair like a warning to take a step back, breathe in the bigger...
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Coexist.
If I had a chance to tell you just one thing, it would have been that I wanted to exist with you because you are like the waves in the ocean, hope sailing on your smooth, carefree shoulders.
We could have been a legacy, the sunset that made the stars burst and the moon forever hide away in fear, the air melting all bodies of water into its heart of indefinite depth.
I just wished to...
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Open-Ended.
My sincerity lived inside a speaker box that screeched the lonely notes crawling too far for something with no feelings nor motivation.
Where did all the energy evaporate to? Where did you disappear to?
Microscopic universe is a bridge built out of macroscopic atoms.
Everything is understood when nothing is said. You are said when nothing is understood.
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Shine Away.
This is my cry for help, my last attempt.
I’ve been trying so hard to play the right keys on this weary piano, but my soft yet frigid fingers are pounding now, the once-beautiful melody hazing into an ugly, good-for-nothing scream.
Tears knock on the black and white, but all I wanted was to mix them to gray, something more acceptable, less extreme.
Please let me feel like I can do...
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Transitional.
I know my heart is still beating because sometimes it drops with an excruciating thud in the most innocent, pleasant times, alarming amplified thumps that wake goosebumps and spark chills down my throat, freezing my voice.
There goes that butterfly without wings, such a familiar creature, an angel without her halo, crying ethereal beauty, hoping for an evolution, a metamorphosis in the sky that...