trapped…

with those tired eyes

tranfixed to an open space

between this worn out sheets

and this spherical nobody

curled up…

playing a saint

in my own sacrificial bliss

unprepared for inevitable

self destruction

i am building…

the morals were thrown away

but the mind that’s

playing a greater role

forbid me to be familiar

with your warmbloodedness.

i am fearful

not for my own heart

but for the sweet poison

that’s filling me…

leading me towards

your perfection

that i might forgot

that you can never be mine…

missing papa

i missed how we spent our free time
talking about almost anything under the sun.

i missed how you criticize
the latest guy i am going out with.
i missed how you make me sit on your lap
just to whisper you don’t like
how my boyfriend dress himself,
then push me gently while laughing.

i missed how you question
every little move i make
about love and life.

i missed how you tease me
on how i dance,
or how you question me about not having
mama’s talent when it comes to singing.

i missed how you talked about
dealing people in and out of work.

i missed the simple talk.
i missed the silent dinner.
i missed the written notes
on how much you love me
after we fight about certain things
you didn’t like.

i missed how you tell stories
on how you and mama got together,
missed how you mention mama
as if you want us to go back.

i missed how you proudly mention
my siblings and their accomplishments
to every people, whenever you were
given a chance.

if i had only one wish,
i wish i could spent another
silent dinner,
simple talk,
and to receive another
note saying you missed them too.

just like the movies

for easystreet prompts

i would wait for you
to woo me
to please me
to make me look at you
lovingly
by saying words
that flatters me.

i will try not to smile
not to look at you
and step farther
then i will listen
if you are still following me.

then, just like the movies
you will stop.

give me enough space
enough time to think
about wanting to go back.
then i will linger more
to nepotism
and wishing i can say
something
casual
something, impressive yet
casual enough for you
to smile.

then, just like the movies
you will make it hard
for me.

just like the movies
you will wait until
i get tired.
then, you’ll come.

but unlike the movies,
i never enjoyed
going to the same circles
over and over.

agoraphobic incubus

for  easystreet prompts 

im not here...
but i can see you...
i know how much
you want to touch me..
just to feel my existence...

i can see the way
you hold her tight...
i can see the fear
and the longing in
those lovely eyes...

you opened the door...
to let me inside...
yet on the back of your mind
you know i wont give in.

you reach for something
you cannot see..
you never will hear...
yet the silence
and the patience
you have...
the fear and the need
sleep is tearing you apart...

you waited...
yet you are scared...
you said you want it to stop,
but the light in your
eyes suggest otherwise...

you want me...
as much as i need you...

but the openess in your part
make me move back
one..two.. three step
away from you...

curtains fall…

for three word wednesday , and for easystreets .

no, i can never deny
that irrecoverably basic
that you have just implied.
beast in mythological scene,
your unbelievable voracity is
creeping in.
bitterness is eating you out,
your braincells unplowed.
with that uncomfortable stare
emitting toxic, nobody can bear…
jealous coquette,
jumping, screaming
to your heart’s content.

smile for me, dear Monalisa
make me think of something
aside from sexy salsa.
lean forward, my dear Beethoven,
play me a tune danceable and mean.
but halt in trying just to convince
that your life is worth of
microscopic curiosity that
you were thinking, indeed.

your story’s worth a plonk,
your life is under a ticking bomb,
leave the stage silently,
or exit without a sympathy.
choose between the lesser evil,
the devil itself or the vast blue sea.
whichever you want,
one thing is certain,
how you live your life
will ends up in hell.