The Bad Poet
- MGA BUMASA 299
- Mga Boto 20
- Mga Parte 10
Magugustuhan mo rin ang
rose in the desert
I will write my future story in bilingual. I want to force myself to be the person I like. I don't care if other people like me, I just care if they like me. After days of hesitation, I finally settled on the name, and I sat on the toilet thinking about the script God had sent me... I can't wait to read the script God sends me and I can't wait to finish it. After writing it, the English audio reading was wonderful. I burst into tears as I listened, and burst into tears as I finished writing. This is very interesting. I always touch myself again and again, always write dreams in my dreams. Whose life is not a dream? I am an affectionate and tragic person, and I love this world deeply. Love so deeply, so seriously. God often gives me so much information that my brain feels like it's going to explode and I'm going crazy. I can understand what Vincent van Gogh was doing in the wheat field. When you see everything in the world, dear, you don't care about anything anymore. You only live for your own happiness. People start to distance themselves from you and you become more and more lonely. God, I ask you again and again, why am I stuck in the desert? I want you to answer me, once is not enough, ten times is not enough, a hundred times is not enough, a thousand times is not enough, ten thousand times is not enough! 2025/1/5
Monsters Inside My Head
WARNING: Some pieces may contain triggers for those who struggle with any form of depression or self harm. Please read with caution. I will often rearrange the chapters in the way I see fit, so please be patient and keep that in mind. This is my first attempt at poetry. It will consist of shit that I've gone through/dealt with and ramblings from my screwed up mind. These works are purely fictional and not meant to be taken literally.Kumpleto
he/him/you
[completed] some half assed thoughts i've had about unrequited love and unnecessary hope shattering revelationsKumpleto
Where The Grass Grows
A poetry collection about life & death, love, loss, & grief. Written through the lens of a 15-17-year-old girl. These poems are a collection of my story. Take care of them. They mean the world to me.Kumpleto
Sad Poems
a variety of losses, regrets, and depression wrapped into a mess of a poem book started: 04.29.15 completed: 06.24.19 a book that has existed almost as long as I have on here. thank you for giving my story a chance (my apologies if some are really cringe or triggering)Kumpleto
D R O W N
we want to burn and die to fill the page as delicate words and memories and what we want what we need in life is more poetry and less pain but it's only a glimpse into a forbidden world a beautiful scene sharp to the touch so take your look if you can bear it so take my hand if you will hold it and taste the words ------------------------------------------------------ some rhyme less poetry and mindless murmurings for you to drown in. all of these poems are regrets, things i wish i said to people but never could.Kumpleto
Abroad
The purpose of this poetry book is one of defiance. Not to others, or anything in particular. It is against the war we wage internally, against ourselves every day. There is no bigger challenge in life than facing your thoughts, your true emotions, your feelings when you lie alone at night by yourself, cornered. We tend to postpone them, shelf them, as we grow accustomed to our daily activities, never giving ourselves a chance to evaluate ourselves. Who are we? what do we lack? what do we need? In this book, I took it upon myself to air out all of my grievances, my intimate thoughts, my happiness, my disappointments, my sadness all out in the open, for all to see. I wanted to face it all. To stare my mortality dead in the eyes, and let the lingering stare sit, I wanted to simmer the feeling of weakness, of every single type of emotion, completely digest it, and let it manifest genuinely, reading it, again and again, perfecting it, again and again, until the feeling of pain subsides. I there is anything that I want you to take from this book, is time. Yes, just a word, time. It goes by, so have not regrets, and never leave something from saying. If you are looking for a sign to remind you, to tell you parents, brothers, sisters, daughters, grandparents, wives, friends you love them? This is it...Kumpleto
Poetry Of a Convoluted Mind
This is a small collection of poems that I have compiled over the years starting at age 15 stemming from my own personal experiences and observations of the world around me. I am hoping in the future for this to become a book. Trigger warning mentions of suicide, attempting suicide, self harm, addiction, OD, hanging, child abuse, depression, bullying, and psychological torture.
Nobody Was Meant to See
[Trigger Warning, please be safe when reading] They aren't supposed to know. They aren't meant to read these poems that I'm writing. I've concealed them for a reason. -Shitty poems about how I feel-Kumpleto
i like to burn things
im just a silhouette with a fading mind TRIGGER WARNING:; self harm, depression, suicide, mental illness etc.Kumpleto
I will write my future story in bilingual. I want to force myself to be the person I like. I don't care if other people like me, I just care if they like me. After days of hesitation, I finally settled on the name, and I sat on the toilet thinking about the script God had sent me... I can't wait to read the script God sends me and I can't wait to finish it. After writing it, the English audio reading was wonderful. I burst into tears as I listened, and burst into tears as I finished writing. This is very interesting. I always touch myself again and again, always write dreams in my dreams. Whose life is not a dream? I am an affectionate and tragic person, and I love this world deeply. Love so deeply, so seriously. God often gives me so much information that my brain feels like it's going to explode and I'm going crazy. I can understand what Vincent van Gogh was doing in the wheat field. When you see everything in the world, dear, you don't care about anything anymore. You only live for your own happiness. People start to distance themselves from you and you become more and more lonely. God, I ask you again and again, why am I stuck in the desert? I want you to answer me, once is not enough, ten times is not enough, a hundred times is not enough, a thousand times is not enough, ten thousand times is not enough! 2025/1/5
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