Making those long poems for those people that we cant have,
Torturing our own hearts with double-edged blades of reality and dreams,
Knowing that we can't hug or kiss or anything,
Makes me wanna die,
Sobbering in jealousy and hatred,
Killing me bit by bit,
Stabbing me with the word I don't want to hear especially when it comes from you.
Does it really kills me? Or makes me want to live?
Knowing of your sweet smile, that flowing hair, that cute face you make,
I will see every friday and sunday of the week,
Depicting the beauty of your voice,
Telling me just to live my dreams,
To live with you.
It just kills me whenever you talk to someone,
That girl, Fuego, who is Madlangbayan?
Did you have something to do with her?
It seems you really didn't care.
The dexterity of your hand when you play the guitar,
Lulls me in a deep slumber,
Dreaming the life with you from afar,
Make me want to sleep for ever.
I love you, I really did.
YOU ARE READING
DELUSIONAL
PoetryPoem, Stories, skits, paragraphs about my dream of my life that I just can't have. the one that makes me happy and sad, the one that makes me comfortable in a stack of pins and nails, the one that I only want to have. With a heavy heart, writing thi...
