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 Mar 2014 Michael Duong
hkr
and leaving all the you --
the sweatshirts
and the cologne
and the memories --
on the curb.
 Mar 2014 Michael Duong
Amanda
Blank pages, first it was Miss Her that began the first words.

"Mister Him at the corner of that dusty pavement.

                     Autumn balmy hues mingled with coffee's bitterness.

One kiss on a forehead, an inward gasp."

Then, Mister Him began to dot the dots on her (i)'s,
punctuating it with little smiles, crinkled eyes
and sometimes,
though he will
    n e v e r
admit,

a slight crimson painted on cheeks.

So,
sweet heart,
that is a
love story.

My words become yours.
    Yours became mine.
Oh, it does seems like our heart-beats
*rhyme.
Hello there, lovely!
Eeek. I am rather excited to share this little nonsensical writing with you, you and you.
Have a wonderful week everyone! Yes, let's make this one count.
x
This song: Stay- Hurts is. Goodness. Check it out but prepare your heart. I warned you. *wink*
Our love is like
Freezing water
We both want to jump in
But we don't want to go
Too fast or mess up
And we don't know how to swim
So we'll just hold each other
And wade in the shallow end
My boyfriend and I had our first kisses yesterday which was terrifying for both of us and before we did it, he compared it to jumping in freezing water and I liked that.
Plastic plants,
Artificial light,
Photoshopped models,
And on this night
Sitting expectantly and nervous
This scene looks nothing like the movies
Our love is real but so is our fear
Hoping everything goes smoothly
Sitting as close as possible,
An autotuned song playing through our ordeal
Surrounded by fake things
Your lips on mine is the only thing real
 Mar 2014 Michael Duong
Amanda
He shyly looks at her.

Everything seemed to quieten to this lovely silence;
a stillness which is pierced by
his
own
steady and sure heartbeat.

By the way her nose twitches slightly and her red lips flutters a little,
she is just about to sneeze.

Ha. Adorable lady.

Bless you?

Bless those eyes that inexplicably managed to see through the
gossamer veils of good and the bad and
above all,
me.

Bless those crimson -No, it is actually a meld of strawberry and raspberry stains. But I won't tell her that just yet.- cheeks.

Bless that lovely soul that you have, the kind that lights up your eyes and peek-a-boos in your smile.

Sweet-heart, you could never be scary anyway.

& And &
bless that smile which can flicker one on my lips.

She sneezes, blissfully oblivious to all these little words that flit around her.

"Bless you, sweets."
He whispers, like
he
always,
always
does.
Hi there lovely reader!
Hope you enjoy this little piece.
x
 Mar 2014 Michael Duong
dafne
For fifteen years
I've always exchanged the same words
"Goodnight, have a good sleep. I love you"

Tonight was the first night
That broke the fifteen year streak
Of you never going to sleep angry at me

I'm sorry mother
I really am
I'm sorry for you too

I'm sorry your hands are turning old
With random speckles,
And portruding veins

I'm sorry there's wrinkles on your face
And your greys reappear after two weeks
And you're having several pains

I'm sorry you didn't have a childhood
And you don't know how to smile
Not even for a picture

I'm sorry Ma
I'm sorry I'm having a hard time
I'm sorry I rub it off on you

I'm sorry for my laziness
I'm sorry you even had to have me
I'm sorry for my drama

I wish I could give you all you deserve
Cause Ma
I would give you all heaven if I could.
 Mar 2014 Michael Duong
Cathyy
When i was 6, i wanted to be something i completely made up in my head.. A 'space ninja pirate undercover superhero with wizardry powers' of some sort, and so i became just that.

&When; i was 10, i grew out of that and grew into the idea of being just an 'ordinary girl' with ordinary clothes and ordinary hair, no extraordinary powers of any sort, and so i became just ordinary.

But when I was 12, i grew tired of being like everyone else. I wanted to create something original for myself. And so i took a pen and an old Disney notepad and wrote all my random daydreams down, and so i became a dreamer and that was that.

However, at 14. I started to care a little too much. Gave my heart away freely and brought myself cheap love. My hair was far too ordinary and my imagination was far too weird,
' if i don't start shaving now, by 16 i'll have a beard ' and so self conscious i became, and that was that for that year.

Now i'm at 16, and i'm starting NOT to care, my daydreams have got me this far and i embrace my messy hobo like hair.. It's tricky though.
'Cause if i were to be honest, i'd say this;;
At 16, i want to touch people with my words but not become a 'poet'
I want people to relate to my music but i don't want to be a musician
I want to get over my depression
But i dont want to feel perfect
I kinda want to run away
But at the same time i want to always have a reason to stay.
Personal, needed to emotionally vent#
 Mar 2014 Michael Duong
R
She
 Mar 2014 Michael Duong
R
She
she is something more than necessary
a limb? a lung? an extra ounce of blood
pumping through every part of me
aching and wanting more and more
of something that i ever so need.
her touch is enough to ignite a flame
and her kiss is enough to make what
was little left of me bloom.
she lifts up my spirit and
makes me fly higher than anything
in the known universe.
everything about her is beautiful
her fingertips and the way she walks
and her delicacy and the way she
wants me as well.

she is beauty and even
her touch is enough
to ignite my soul
again.
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