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  • pseudolove 15w

    Ever since--we talk about life
    And it's all sad 'cause we're fully aware 'bout the reality
    It is all temporary
    But I hate the fact that I still want fly with you
    'Cause I know I'll find happiness through
    But I also know it'll end with sadness too.


  • pseudolove 16w

    0:18 ─〇───── 3:13

    ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

    if you think that no one sees your suffering, no, I do. I see you when I cry myself to sleep. I see you when I closed my eyes saying a silent prayer. I see you when the night was deep and you can feel your skin tearing apart. I see you, in me. we may not be around the same pit but we are under the same clouds. and, I just want to hold your hand while I scream at the rain. if you want, you can scream with me too.


  • pseudolove 16w

    "why do you always write about the sad parts?"
    "because what breaks you actually fuels the desire to stay alive."


  • pseudolove 16w

    0:40 ─〇───── 4:05

    // he can feel my heart fell asleep to its beat under blankets and warm sheets, if only I could be in that bed again, if only it were me instead of her


  • pseudolove 16w

    ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

    // let’s fall in love for the night and forget in the morning, play me a song that you like you can bet i’ll know every line


  • pseudolove 17w

    sinner, you still linger in between my bedsheets and tangled hair. you are stuck somewhere in the little spaces behind my closet and under my mattress. purple tulips and pink carnation. your name etched deep down on my skin screams domination.

    “angels don’t make love.”
    “nephilims exist, which means they do.”

    you offered me the dead skies but it made me feel alive. you sang me hymns of heaven and hell. too good, i’ll gladly join a choir or wear a dainty pink choker with your favorite bell. i cling to you seeking mercy. you are no saint but please be my salvation, my beloved persi.

    “angels don’t sin.”
    “watch me persi. they do.”

    he said angels don’t fall in love. lies. angels fall in love with bending knees at the sight of sinner praying silent screams. you see, i walked the earth with calloused feet but you caressed them with your burned fingers tenderly. sinner, sinner, what was your sin? your eyes hide jupiter’s invisible rings and i can’t help myself. THEY ARE LURING ME IN.

    “angels don’t fall in love.”
    “aren’t my novena filled lips enough to make you believe? hush. they do.”

    sooner or later i’ll be damned with a thousand curses. and, remember. your name etched deep down on my skin screams domination. i’ll accept any form of retribution because sinner, IN YOU I'VE ALREADY FOUND SALVATION.

  • pseudolove 17w

    " "

    The law of asymptote wouldn't meet
    our pathways,
    There's nothing to change our fate.
    We'll be forever infinite in unacceptable

    Have you remember the nights
    in the month of May?
    It quickly fades as the traces appear
    for we saw it too late.
    The law of asymptote wouldn't meet
    our pathways,

    The fate has woven a tragic stage play,
    Two yearning hearts, bleeding; it couldn't wait.
    We'll be forever infinite in unacceptable way.

    Woe, destiny, I can only hope and pray.
    The burning fervor has gone cold, for Cupid's sake.
    The law of asymptote wouldn't meet our pathways.

    We were destined to meet but never to stay.
    The heavens have turned mute as we took their bait.
    We'll be forever infinite in unacceptable way.

    Chances aren't given even if we want to pay.
    In the afterlife, endless lines are visible
    to lose our faith.
    The law of asymptote wouldn't meet
    our pathways,
    We'll be forever infinite in unacceptable way.


  • pseudolove 18w

    artists—are all odds
    we are variant from the other person
    we perceive everything differently.
    obssesive and hopped up on emotion
    we are cantankerous and ineligible
    but we are also compassionate,
    empathetic, wild and unbearably soft
    at all once.
    we are also patient and stray
    we believe in any forms of universe
    we welcome the demons into our veins
    split a couple of lips to keep our numb
    at the sea shore.
    we are contradictory, indeed.
    and beautifully broken often

    artists taste life differently—

    if that doesn‘t skip your heart a little bit
    if your connection with them
    hasn‘t kissed your madness yet—
    then you missed your point of art

    | a great form of art

  • pseudolove 19w

    i hope you forgive me for the times i couldn’t help myself but to say the notorious three words, eight letters, and if i am extremely reluctant when given the chance to. by the sound of it, people would have conceived a verdict already and call me names. —but for the reason that i don’t think they could properly deliver all the things i long to imply in depth and at once. sometimes, they don’t say enough.

    when i wanted to tell you those words, i don’t mean for you to do the same, nor just to let you know that’s how i feel. there’s more to it that they failed miserably to convey.

    i love you, i mean—go throw your not-so-well thought out jokes and watch me fake laugh at it just so i could hear yours and let the cosmos witness how my heart drops a little everytime you do so.

    i love you, i mean—i appreciate it when you try to speak about the things and i know how tough it is. not everyone is given the same privilege anyways, the thought that i was the one you’ve chosen to confide to those skeletons you hid in your closet for so long is something i’ll always take note of. i’m here, for as long as you allow me.

    i love you, i mean—i’ll bring your burned knuckles to my lips and kiss them, see you at your most naked state and trail the cicatrices left by the phantoms of your past with my fingertips. i will look at those parts of you that you thought were so ugly and adore them all-day long.

    i love you, i mean—i would have despised the universe to death for its cruel conspiracies, but i spared it from the flick of my wrath because it has you. your mere existence has made life bearable.

    i love you, i mean—damn all is constant, changes are inevitable. there’s a possibility that i might not be the person that i am now the next day, and you might not be as well. yet even so, know that i’ll still fall for those other existing versions of you the way icarus did when he flew near the clutch of sun. i would have my wings burned, bones broken, and myself torn into pieces all over anew if that means having a grasp of your soul.

    i love you, i mean—always.

    when i wanted to tell you i love you, i mean to say that i am also yours for you to break.

  • pseudolove 21w

    ❝ Just when I thought everything is alright, I am drowned again in the uncertainties of the word “us”. ❞