# data[].attributes.headline
the dancer that thought me how to cuss. 

# data[].attributes.subject
the dancer that thought me how to cuss. 

# data[].attributes.body
she was a dancer
grinding into his lap
while licking your sweat.
he was mesmerized
by the dancer.
he forgot that
her daughter was there
looking at you.
the place was too
loud but i can hear
the melody that
i shouldn't be hearing.
she was moaning
and i was crying.
it was the day
i learned how to
cuss my parents
and made everybody
in the room quiet.

# data[].attributes.body
his hands were like a snake,
it crawled into my back
marking his territory
before he removed the clothing
that covers my chest.
I closed my eyes
and started to scream.
the thought of a 16 yrs old
girl being her will give shame
. and disappointment
it spread like venom
into my system.
it shuts my mouth
and ate my fear.
i survived the jungle,
without anyone knowing
how unclean i am.
he said it was love,
but it wasn't
it was lust.

# data[].attributes.body
"sorry, i can't say anything", he said.

i am just here whenever you wanted to talk about things you wanted. i am also here if you just wanted to be silent. i am just here, always be here.

that's the kind of friend i am. but if you pushed me away. expect that i will respest your decision and the connection will fade. it will never come back.

it will never come back.

maybe our friendship will be just a memory but the feelings is not there anymore. how i wished you never closed your door to me.

it was your decision, not mine. i hope you are getting healthier everyday and getting happy.

# data[].attributes.body
i wished i ne'er learned
poetry and skipped 3rd grade.
i wouldn't have learned the
meaning of those 5 senses.

sight
our eyes met and you stared at me coldly.
my heart feels like there are wild beasts causing a
stampede running through my veins. they are destroying
the garden you've created.

touch
sleeping on our couch while hugging a
pillow to feel the warmth that you never gave me.
what a mother should give to make your child
feels like they are loved and protected.

smell
you can smell my perfume of jealousness
when you treated someone's daughter as yours. you
made me wear it every day, so you can smell it because
it pleases your nose.

taste
one bite is more than enough to make me
want to vomit the food you serve. you ne'er added
the secret ingredient of love to my plate. how
can i tell it's special?

sound
you can't call me yours, even my name.
the music that i was yearning for.
you can call my cat his name and call him darling.
you can't treat me as a human nor an animal, then what am i? a ghost, maybe.

when will i see that
glittering eyes of yours?
when will i feel that warm
hug and sweet kisses of yours?
when will i stop wearing
this rotten perfume?
when will you sprinkle the
secret ingredient on my plate?
when will i hear you call
my name?

# data[].attributes.body
there was this silence that we both created as we sat down drinking our coffee. we were exhausted. nobody was talking.

we looked at each other and laughed together. we enjoyed that moment. moment that we enjoyed each others company without talking about anything.

you are just there, and i am just here. things that i really appreciate and grateful that it happened to me this year.

# data[].attributes.body
"you are not there", she said

"you are being dependent", he said.

adam, i never opened my heart to anyone but you. and yet you rejected my healing heart again

# data[].attributes.body
dearest,
you.

i waited,
and waited
until i almost
forgot that
you existed.

you are healing,
i am forgetting,
we are both suffering.

i dont blame you,
you cant blame me.
my stories aren't for you anymore

# data[].attributes.headline
it's the same thing that's wrong with all of us

# data[].attributes.subject
it's the same thing that's wrong with all of us

# data[].attributes.body
we are different and unique in our own way, but have we realize that we are all the same.

we laugh,
we cry,
we are loved,
we are abandoned.

we make them laugh,
we make them cry,
we hurt them,
we abandoned them.

and i cannot blame you, it is what it is.

# data[].attributes.body
tell me,

should i call

myself an artist?

‘coz i made my

life a museum of

disappointments

and traumas.

it was a talent,

a gift rather

that some god

gave to me.

maybe, i am the chosen one.

the one that everything

she does is not enough.

sit down and i will

tell you the story

behind about artwork

that i made.

i.   a woman spreading her

legs to offer her soul -

begging and seeking

for the love she ne’er

had.

ii.  a white canvas filled

with a print of different

hands, with different

color - her innocen-

ce was vandalized

by different men.

iii.  a rusty door in the

the middle of the

forest - the only

thing that people

noticed when

they enter the fo-

rest was the rusty

old door - flaws,

bad decisions, past,

and disappointments.

they never appreciated

the forest.

# data[].attributes.headline
the cry of the children who became their parent's personal therapist

# data[].attributes.subject
the cry of the children who became their parent's personal therapist

# data[].attributes.body
you should

have resisted his

lips when it

met yours.

why did you let

his tongue discovered

that you wanted him

more?

you made his

hand navigate your body

and marked the

spot when you

called his name.

then he found his

favorite place

where he saw

a river coming

from the forest.

you invited

his manhood to find

the treasure inside

the forest.

you screamed

and he moaned,

you moaned.

louder and crazier

until both of

you thought

you found the

treasure.

what i was saying is that you should have resisted my father when he wanted you to become his sl*t.

remember how you became a sl*t and you enjoyed it. so stop making the treasure you found suffer. we are the treasure from the pleasure you did that night.

# data[].attributes.body
who knew that our tongue,

the strongest muscle

in our body, can make music?

our tongues collided

and there was a sound

yes, a sound that we

created together.

saliva turned into

ocean where our ships

met and they fought,

exchanging cannons

that made oxygen

vanished in the atmosphere.

we heard the siren

that we locked inside

our chest

a soothing sound that

escape from our mouth.

inhale, exhale.

it was music,

we created music!

that gave us energy

and our tongues continued

to collide.

i can also

hear the ocean we

made together

it dances with

the sound we are making.

it sank our mind

to the deepest part of

the sea.

# data[].attributes.body
the smell of burnt cinnamon

tickles my nose as we enter your room.
we sat and watched and you taught
me how peanut butter & bread is made.

1. remove the wrapper of the bread – your

adventurous hands ripped all my clothes

while your tongue teaches me how to

speak your language.

2. put the bread on the plate - you pushed

me to your bed and traced all my

erogenous zones in my body.

3. get the peanut butter - you left me there

wanting you more. you threw all your

clothes to find the peanut butter that

you will spread using your long and

sharp knife.

4. spread the peanut butter on the bread -

I let you spread the peanut butter inside

my bread. up and down, circle motion,

faster and harder.

5. hot milk for beverage (optional) - you

cannot hold longer and you wanted me

to taste what’s inside you. close your

eyes and swallow it. it tastes like heaven.

# data[].attributes.body
we are strangers

your lips took seconds

to know every part of me

i forgot what loneliness feels like

with your manhood curled

inside my legs and your tongue

ohhh, that hungry little tongue

can't get enough of my breasts

i existed, and i am wanted.

# data[].attributes.headline
the beginning of addiction and ownership

# data[].attributes.subject
the beginning of addiction and ownership

# data[].attributes.body
the very thought of you

have my legs spread apart

like an easel with a canvas

begging for art

the stroke of the round brush between the mountains where you made a waterfall feels like I'm in heaven. you painted a miner who used his pickaxe to dig deeper and deeper. he explored the rocks behind the falls. again, deeper and deeper and deeper. then he discovered a river with the sweetest water he ever tasted.

# data[].attributes.body
there is this one chapter in my life, where I learned a moral lesson that will teach me forever. the narrative was meant to be happy ever after, but it became tragic.

this is how life teaches us a lesson, so do not blame them. they will mold us, break us, put us back together, and might break us again. it only means one thing. if people keep hurting you, it means you are not learning from the lesson that life teaches you.

the story will repeat, and repeat, and repeat until we learn.

so never tell a person that you shouldn't have met them. because at the end of the day, you chose not to wake up and learn from the people around you.

# data[].attributes.body
you gave me your sweater,
during the night we were together.
i was your heather,
but i now i only have your sweater/