Maybe I Should Post Other Things Than These Old Writings
maybe i should post other things than these old writings
More Posts from Thsdfnngslnc and Others
MATUTULOG NA AKO TAPOS PAPAIYAKIN MO AKO. WAG GANITO BES. MAMAMAGA MATA KO. ABA. SUSME. MAGSUSUOT AKO NG SHADES BUKAS NITO. PERO SALAMAT KULOT. LECHE KA. DI NA AKO NAG ENGLISH
PERO KAYA PALA DI KA MAN LANG MAGREPLY SA MGA MESSAGES KO. KALOKA
SAKA AYOS LANG YAN, NAIINTINDIHAN KO (the books part). ALSO, ANG GANDA AT ANG GALING BES. SHET. LOVE YOU XX
PS SIGE. PAGBIBIGYAN KITA NA MAGANDA KA. LOL. MAGANDA KA NAMAN. IN YOUR OWN WAY, PERO BES BALANG ARAW, MAY MAMAMANGHA SA KAGANDAHAN MO. PROMISE YAN
A promise
She smiles.
Time itself stops.
She feels like a good music.
A song in the wind.
A good song different (in) every single phrase.
Happy 21st birthday, you, mother of three dragons. HA! I just want to say that this is my first black-out poetry and it is about you (and you should be thankful). This is my way of telling you, I am lucky to be your friend and I am thankful that I am beautiful. oops! hahaha What I’m trying to say is, Happy birthday to you, my friend. I will always be here, Raphabelle (@thsdfnngslnc ).
Love, Khayonardo :)
PS. to answer your unasked questions, Yes, this is my book (from Every Day by David Levithan page 11), and yes, this edited. I love you but I love my books, too. I know you understand that. HAHAHAHAHA
This will be one hell of a fucking ride
a.k.a. This was supposed to be hidden / under my bed / along with stories / I refuse to read before I sleep
Standing in front of a mirror / I see myself eyeing every inch of me / the black lace covering / almost nothing / and the music on my back / is glorious
Then there’s a knock / below my feet / as the wind settles behind the curtains of my bedroom window
It takes a second then a minute / blood flowing in a rush / heartbeat flooding my eardrums / as I parade down the stairs
He stands there like a kitten / his shadow touching the back of the door
He’s breathing fire as he enters inside / then our breaths waltz / in the same air-y music / then we feel the same desperate burn on our veins / the same shyness flush on our cheeks
A beat / a whisper / then pants begin travelling in the hope of more / of more bare skin / of more blazing touches / of more sight of swollen lips
I lead him to my room / catching his fingers once inside / placing them on my shoulder blades / I lead him / to have himself kiss me wet
(eusie.)
an interview with my neighbor
part 2: macy edwards-johansson
i knocked on the door with a force that could break my knuckles as if my heart isn't enough with all its pieces crumbled to the tiles of the doorway
please don't let this one break me again
macy wasn't always home she looks for it in certain places and from a number of persons i wouldn't want to know
"home shouldn't be about the t.v. going nuts as you rest on your couch after a long day “so you sleep instead and it should be okay “home shouldn't be being aware of the bloody smoke coming from your cigarette that will blind you from living “but you choose to give in anyway because damn it, you're already dead from all these shit happening in your life “home should be sitting on the bottom of stairs with no one to calm you down “but the walls lull to you that it's okay to cry so you cry “home, to me, is when you want to be fucked up “so your home fucks you up, but in the end, it stays beside you, unbroken and full to cope up with your brokenness and emptiness"
she wants to be loved so fucking bad i don’t know if she’ll ever get to find someone who’ll make her feel home
macy didn't respond on the first to three banging on the door
i hoped she's somewhere inside sleeping peacefully and not anywhere hugging her fingers on bottle necks, getting damn wasted
i shouted her name and then her house shrieked her door slowly danced open, revealing macy with droopy eyes
before i can even drop a phrase, she whispered gently — and i saw the universe glowing in her eyes —
“i finally found my home”
and that was all i needed for today
(eusie.)
you should spread your smile on my neck, and eat me like i’m your favorite breakfast. then i'll bite the crumbs on your shoulder blades; baby, you're the sweetest dessert
on the table (eusie.)
Counting Cars
Synopsis
Koichiro Ugumori was 23 years old when he died because of a car accident. Ever since then, he has been a wandering soul inside the halls of the hospital where he was announced dead on arrival. One day, he suddenly wakes up in the body of a 20-year-old guy named Soichiro. He soon meets Ayako, Soichiro’s sweet girlfriend, and his circle of friends that includes the demure(ish)ly attractive, Chiho, who quite seems to be distant when it comes to him. As Koichiro struggles to “adjust” with his mysterious second chance to live, he tries to face the revived aftermath of his death and Soichiro’s complicated (love) life.
Could it be / that besides the moon, / there’s one planet / who also fell for the sun? / Could it be / that she was broken, / and because she cannot bleed, / she cried until she died / while her tears scattered across the Milky Way / and they’re the stars / we see in the evening sky?
April 21, 2014 (eusie.)
