gunshot

gunshot

blood bloomed

you talked

dead

too soon

six bullets

two from each

we agreed to

disagree

smile 

lock

load

boom

gunshot

blood bloomed

your smile 

gone

too soon

gunshot

gunshot

there are 

a million

deaths

to choose

from

lock

load

fire

gunshot

gunshot

dying isnt

the only

death

lock

load

aim

gunshot

gunshot

i wake

screaming

tears 

streaming 

1am

dreams

silence

there are ways

someone you love

can die

step

step

walk away

gunshot

don’t look back 

lock

load

aim

fire

his heart

for her smile

pull the trigger 

blood bloomed

on

my 

chest

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tonight

tonight he drowned

the third in a row

the dark came unheard

and the aftermath spoke

blow by blow by blow

black and blue and void

emptiness and rue

it settled within

tonight she saw an explosion 

a brief blinding light 

it ended soon enough 

but she realized —

it’s the chaos after that will break your heart

tonight he drowned 

the third in a row

the explosion was of no sound

but the chaos screamed for him

the dark has descended

disconnecting worlds

the explosion has ended

and there was a calm

but still tonight he drowned 

the third in a row

the bright light has faded

but there’s no afterglow

the calm is no more

the chaos cannot be seen

it is inside of him

as the demons reach within

tonight he drowned 

the third week perhaps

he is silent

but the chaos is deafening enough

Purge

💖

literary throes

With great applause,
the end was ushered.
Men with flaws
were butchered,
slaughtered,
like savage dogs,
blood in the gutters.

Every night,
a magazine–
a dozen dead
in scenes
obscene.
Frightful fiends,
who go unseen,
gleam
their guns,
teem
in swarms,
followed by nightmarish screams.

Welcome to the Philippines.

Here,
we endear
the ruthless.
While the toothless
starve, still fruitless.
When the noble Brutus
hath told us Caesar was ambitious,
we did not realize just how vicious.

Power, not manners, now maketh man,
those who take a stand,
will find their hands
bound,
their gagged
mouths
will no longer brandish
any sounds,
for the hounds
had dragged
them all to hallowed ground.

And so, most of us lay in quiet,
as the days grow violent,
the brave grow silent.
While “tyrant”
becomes another word
unheard,
and apathy engulfs the world.

View original post

Purge

💖

literary throes

With great applause,
the end was ushered.
Men with flaws
were butchered,
slaughtered,
like savage dogs,
blood in the gutters.

Every night,
a magazine–
a dozen dead
in scenes
obscene.
Frightful fiends,
who go unseen,
gleam
their guns,
teem
in swarms,
followed by nightmarish screams.

Welcome to the Philippines.

Here,
we endear
the ruthless.
While the toothless
starve, still fruitless.
When the noble Brutus
hath told us Caesar was ambitious,
we did not realize just how vicious.

Power, not manners, now maketh man,
those who take a stand,
will find their hands
bound,
their gagged
mouths
will no longer brandish
any sounds,
for the hounds
had dragged
them all to hallowed ground.

And so, most of us lay in quiet,
as the days grow violent,
the brave grow silent.
While “tyrant”
becomes another word
unheard,
and apathy engulfs the world.

View original post

Johanna

When he told you he loved you, you stopped.
Your heart, when it should have been beating for joy, took a momentary pause.
Your breath, when it should have been rapid, stayed in your chest for a moment.
Your brain, when it should have been a 24/7 functioning organ, ceased all its operations.
All for those three monosyllabic words: “I love you.”

It shouldn’t been like this,
Your response shouldn’t have been this much
But for someone who has spent her life picking up
The shards of broken glass she once called her soul
And using it to build a wall of protection
Against all the emotions that ripped through her life
All those years ago,
Those three little words are the beginning of the crack
In the protective barrier sheltering you.

As he whispered sweet nothings in your ear
Each word rolling off his tongue smoothly
You have to pull away and remind yourself
Of all the sleepless nights you spent
Crying on your bed
Trying to drown your cries
On your pillows as your body wracked with each sob you heave
Remind yourself of the times
You stood in the rain
Wishing each drop to cleanse away the pain
Praying for the sky to open up a little more
Just a little more
As though you wanted to have someone to feel
Just how miserable you are
Remind yourself of all the times
You stayed under water for a little too long
Hoping the waters will fill your lungs
Begging for anything, anything to fill up the empty spaces inside you.

You have been a hollow shell for so long and
It just feels so good to be able to feel again
It has been so long since someone noticed
The curve of your smile as you read something in the book you’re holding
Too long since someone sat by you as you hid in your favourite corner
Too long since someone cared enough to switch on the lights
In the otherwise candle-lit room that is your life.

So you hold on to him
Let him inside your life
Let him shake and break the foundations of the wall you built
Let him pick up the broken pieces of your soul
Let the emotions flow back again
Let him fill all the empty spaces inside of you
You believed in his love
Revelled in the attention in his gaze
Let his lips kiss away the poison in your mouth.

You drowned in the ocean of his promises
Made him your safety net
You didn’t even notice the knife
He had pulled out, trying to cut the rope
That binds him to you
Didn’t even notice that when he turned on the lights
He stepped on your candle and stamped its flames out
Didn’t even notice that when he picked up your broken pieces
He didn’t put it back together – he simply laid it all on your feet
Didn’t even notice that his entrance in your life
Meant the exit of everything else you have known
The exit of every warning
The exit of every logical, rational thought
The exit of every memory of how you
Used to beg for them to stay
The exit of every “Don’t go” “Don’t leave” “I’m scared” you have learned to hold back and swallow
All that was left was him and you
And how when he kissed away the poison in your mouth
You had your eyes closed tight
You didn’t even notice when he spat it back in.

And now all that is left of him
Is an empty monosyllabic word: SEEN
In the chatbox where it all started
And now the only evidences left that there was him and you
Are the fresh wounds your nails
Had dug deep into your skin as you tried to rip every
Piece that reminded you of him
Too bad – every part of your body screams his name.

He’s nowhere to be found
The saviour you thought he was is gone
All that is left is you and you
As you picked up the broken pieces again – at least he has the grace to pile it in one place
And you start rebuilding again
This time, not a wall outside
But a temple inside of you
You no longer will drown
Because you will learn to ride the waves
And float on the tides
You no longer will long for his lips to take the poison away
Because that poison is you
A part of your being, and you will use it as your weapon
You no longer will need to have someone
To fill your empty spaces; you will do it yourself
And you no longer will want to have someone
Switch on the lights
You will blow out the candle yourself
Because you, you have the vastness of the galaxies and stars
Not in the sky
But in your eyes.

Once Wendy

you will dream of him, more often

than you try to think of him

in your waking hours

you have never really looked at

his eyes, but in your dreams

they will stare at you and

see your soul

“i want to make you happy”

like a song that plays

over and over again

this broken record you will always

hear “i want to make you happy”

you dont know which is more haunting – 

his laughter or the shadow of his promises

or the fact that he’s now ignoring you

you laugh at yourself and you try to think:

stupid, you’re just one of his girls

you were just… someone

some hours you will find yourself

thinking of him and getting mad

at yourself – of course  

he shouldn’t be blamed

he told you right?

“dont expect”

it was all but a harmless hot day

fling, nothing more but probably less

what you and him were all but nothing 

that existed through the phone —

at least it was fun while it lasted.

you will not tell anyone but

you recorded your phone calls

just a little reminder that for a series

of 12-minute calls, he was real

he was real.

you like him -gods, you do

but not because of what he is

and what his name means

you like him because of his

voice, which you always tease him about

you like him because of his 

reactions, those little “i hate you”s

he’d say with an imagined pout

you like him because he makes

you happy without even trying hard

you like him because of the way he’d

reassure you, “i’ll catch you when you fall”

dammit, you fell — and no one was there.

but no, no you are not blaming him

he is peter, and you were once his chosen wendy

he will always be up there flying,

while you are here, in the real world

silencing sadness with the knowledge that 

for a while, he flew you high

he is peter, and he will only fly

higher and higher, with someone who can be

more than the wendy you were

he is peter, and he brought you

to neverland, with promises of something

more than you have ever experienced

he is peter, and you always knew he 

was too good to be true

he is peter, and you, never having experienced being wendy

let yourself believe 

he is peter, and your time as wendy is up

you have to go back down

you wish he let go gently though.

he is peter, and you will always

just be the once chosen wendy

at least for a while, you were wendy

he is peter, and he will never fly you again.

She Thought

 

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who thought that the world is a beautiful place.

 

She thought that it was made up of pretty, little things. Wherever she’d look, she’d see pretty flowers, smell the red and pink roses, and feel the cold breeze caressing her face. She’d hear the humming of the birds and close her eyes and revel in their sweet, sweet symphony.

 

She’d walked barefooted upon the soft grass, her pristine white dress billowing about as the wind gently blew. Her golden hair tangled upon itself, and she has to sweep it away from her face with a tinkling laugh. She’s happy, she’s comfortable, and the world is a beautiful place.

 

She lived in her own bubble of comfort, enjoying her pretty life. Her eyes are closed, smiling sweetly, arms wrapped around her feathery pillow, sighing contentedly.

 

The world is a beautiful place.

 

Or so she thought.

 

When the girl awoke, her dress was white no more. It was stained with mud and blood. The crown of roses she’d set upon her head has become thorns, cutting her, piercing her pretty skin. She can no longer hear the symphony of the singing birds for the air is filled with the wails of the damned.

 

She hugged herself as she tried to fight the angry lashes of the winds. The grass, before so soft, are now sharp under her feet, and the girl who once thought that the world is a beautiful place, sank down on her knees, tears streaming in her face.

 

She thought wrong.