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Gellie

@gelliebollosa-blog

your ukulele girl. Cebu, 🇵🇭

Where Does it hurt?

Where does it hurt?

On the silk of your skin

Or in the depth of your bones?

Does it hurt because of sin

Or because of the unknowns?

Does it throb,

Does it sting,

Does it fascinate you

Or is it an ugly thing?

Does it make you want to

Claw your way out

From inside yourself?

Or do you want to

Curl up

And get cocooned in your shell?

Tell me darling

Where does it hurt

And how much it hurts

Tell me how I can

Touch you right

And drink up the pain every time it spurts!

- Eve 

sensualtogether.tumblr.com

Thank you #savageprompts for helping this pour out of me! Looking forward to more! Hope you like the submission!

written and submitted by @sensualtogether

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carpsmen

Yellow

Everything was bright

Everyone’’s in delight

But when that plane crashed

My dreams too had gone to trash

Everything was yellow

But now, it is mellow…

“In the middle of trying to find a pen to write this poem, I realized all too quickly, these hands are not my own. The way they dig through memories like a mother digs at her daughters grave, the way they crack themselves under pressure when I ask my coworker a question and he just stares at me. I’m sorry. I should have known the answer. My president talks about his daughter the way men talk about strippers, long legs, skinny enough bodies, bringing a whole new meaning to daddy issues. But this is America. You can say whatever you want. Unless you’re a woman. Unless you have short legs, unless you actually have daddy issues. I work in a building where if I hold the door open for a man he acts like I am holding a gun. “oh no little girl, lemme get that! You go ahead, you deserve it.” I wasn’t so little when I wanted to voice my opinion on abortion, no one wants to hold the door open for a girl who has a brain, I am more than long legs. I am more than my age than my gender, I will not surrender. Until these hands are my own again.”

— A.D.H and being a woman

Issue

Feeling that someone loves me

Feel the warmth of a body

I am a selfish

I’m just looking for carnal pleasure

More than that

I want to devour your feelings

Tree branch

I’m a bad person

The experiences changed me

I believed in being able to love someone

Now I just enjoy the moment

You had me in your hands

I could be the best person by your side

But things changed

Now I just hope not to turn the love of my life into a monster like me

Alone

You didn’t want to feel alone

I felt that you were my treasure

You missed me

I was dying if you were not with me

You wanted me

But I loved you

Have you ever
Been the lesser love,
The never quite
Enough love,
You’ll do for a while,
Until someone better
Comes along love,
It’s me not you love?
Then when you find
A greater love,
You suddenly realize
You’ve always been
More than enough.

.

Rhymingtherapy ~ September 2018

My photo.

Stealing Flowers

I heard tales of you

From woefully unreliable sources

Who poured their propaganda

Like concrete,

Hoping to build a foundation

For themselves.

Lips on the inside

Teeth on the outside

You’d always bite

Before you’d kiss.

This is what I was told.

Now I listened to my friends

But kept a spark of doubt,

Upon meeting you

I was made to breath heavy

And fan it into flame.

Since then the fire

Has taken many forms,

Like traversing the town on foot

To see you for thirty minutes.

Like stealing the cities

Entire supply of yellow flowers

To brighten your grey workplace.

Like shade

Saving in summer

Yet deadly in winter,

Your smile careened

Through my heart.

Leaving mailboxes tipped

And street signs turned around

Now unsure if I’m driving

Too fast or too slow

But it’s towards you

So I push my foot down.

- Vagabond Prophet