prose poetry

mimi. i write, and i love words. creative writing student.

[definitelynotelle]

you can call me mimi

i used to be elle, but definitely not anymore

currently a creative writing student

hi i’m indecisive

might go quiet for too long, then come back with word-vomit

i used to post only "poetry", but i'd be expanding the genre of what i post (namely musings, excerpts, snippets, flash fiction, misc. stuffs, etc.)

not all of my poetry is in my point of view nor is it about me (do revel in the mystery of it all)

logophile, pluviophile, ceraunophile

i am not confucius, for i am confusion, and confusion is me

infj (ni fe ti se) - 1w9 - phlegmatic-melancholy

virgo sun, cancer moon, gemini rising - do with that information what you will

occasional reblogs will be tagged as #dne reblogs // feel free to mute it

if you wanna know more about me, ask box is wide open, as well as my dm

also, kindly check out my art blog ✧ @mychillart

my works besides what i have in my blog:

i wrote one [1] full length novel; it is currently unpublished, and is still in the drafts.

one [1] novelette, also unpublished, which is in its rough draft stage.

two [2] work-in-progress novels, one of them which i put on hold, and the other i am continuously writing.

one [1] work-in-progress poetry book, dedicated to a specific person.

and lots of story ideas in my folder, some of them having one or more chapters with it.

i also write fanfiction sometimes, but you won’t find them.

✧・ﾟ・:*\( Φ ω Φ )ﾉ*:・ﾟ・✧

[definitelynotelle]

my heart sits so heavy in my chest that whenever i feel something it quickly empties out whatever it was the blood that pumps deep within is heavier than the tears to which is stubbornly stuck in my eyelids

the outbursts of varied emotions and the realization that doom is near and just ahead of me it puts me back in place where i don't know if i belong my only saving grace is loneliness

[definitelynotelle]

i don't feel like myself when i'm mad i feel most like myself when i'm hurt and when i'm happy? i only feel dread in return at least i'm not empty, though i would rather be

[definitelynotelle]

you make it so hard for me to love you all your manipulative little schemes isolating me from everyone clinging onto me as if i could only be yours as if i was of your possession your problematic little mouth petty ways of thinking as if you're all too nice you make me so anxious. overthinking. you make me feel bad without trying hate is such a strong word but gods, i hate hate hate you how come you still have me wrapped around your finger?

[definitelynotelle]

good night sun, good morning moon

the sun doesn't rise in my neighborhood though it sets just right around the corner a 500 meter walk to see it go up above the sky and a mere 150 for it to set

do i prefer the sunrise or the sunset? even if i'm a night owl, i like the breeze of the sun rising, the longer walk it takes for me to witness it

knowing i was only about to sleep while the people around me were just starting their day wondering will it go for the better or the worse?

but i do not have to worry about any of that as i end my waking moment in the rise of the sun all i have to worry about is the tomorrow in the setting sun, and the moon is all i see

[definitelynotelle]

i like making exes out of men. the way they try to cope after the realization of losing me. the desperate way of unhurting themselves, when it was them who left me to fester in my own thoughts. though they're too foolish to realize that they can still fix what they broke. but maybe, their ego was too hurt to try and think of ways to get me back. does it still matter what i think? am i evil for laughing? oh, but it is all amusing. this is not what i intended when i came to like you. however, i did foresee this. now this is just another story of what could've been.

[definitelynotelle]

i started creating the perfect image of you for you are the only existence that can comfort me in this cruel-seeming excuse of a world.

she wears this intimidating smile that can make one think she's above everyone and it's true, she is. i could only dream of walking side to side by her, not an honor but a miracle it would be.

[definitelynotelle]

it felt like i was fifteen again crescent-like graves on my skin i breath and breath, my body rejecting it feeling retched i gag, scoffing and coughing i plead to nothing for the storm to pass i convince myself of baseless promises it hasn't been that long until i glance at the clock when i thought the waves are ceasing to exist they aren't even dying down, i try to swallow it all the ocean wasn't supposed to be that deep but i fell on an endless pit even when the skies are clear they pour and when the self-inflicted reality hits is only when it vanishes, distracting oneself from the imaginary calamity one has conjured but reality itself can't be comprehended where should one take refuge? where should i take refuge? to the evacuation of unborn smiles or the haven that is unconscious dream

[definitelynotelle]

and if you forget me, then what? would you still remember the silly little stories i shared? or would you see me as a fresh face in this small world where we never met?

[definitelynotelle]

i'll tell you all about it when the sun rises because by then, i knew you'd be fast asleep it is neither avoidance nor reluctance neither is it fear nor worry

amusement prolonging our suffering is a form of torture we are both participants

but our difference i set up the stage and i relish in the pain far longer than you

though the impact will hit you far greater once you realize what this is all about but don't worry, the pain will all be over just close your eyes, and don't fight back

[definitelynotelle]

I know the pain of having to leave the person you love just so they can lead a better life for themselves. No matter how much it hurts, if it's for their own good, I'm willing to go through the angst of it. Even if it means I have to live through sleepless nights where I toss and turn and cry. For I will endure the suffering, as long as they don't have to. Swear to me, that you won't miss me, and you'll live freely.

[definitelynotelle]

i lost so much care; i don't feel like myself i felt so free, and yet it made me sick perhaps freedom in the name of uncaring isn't freedom at all

[definitelynotelle]

I feel like a succulent—needs time to adjust to the sun. If you must force me to get accustomed, I'll burn. But if you let me gradually adjust and lean towards the light, I'll manage. A comfort zone isn't something you simply step out of, it needs time to expand.

And people say succulents are easy to take care of. No, they can be fragile. Fun adorable little things. They're not all the same. Similar perhaps. Do take the time to know them; it will all be worth it.

[definitelynotelle]

maybe i was the fire all along and curious, they were though to get close, they can't for when they try, they burn

[definitelynotelle]

sometimes, i'm afraid i might get too close i treat humans like fire, or even roses with thorns they're intriguing, and curious i am but i see myself more as an observer one who doesn't intrude nor interrupt i stay away i must, free from the hurt free from the lies that mask up close free from the eternal anguish in which is you

[definitelynotelle]

the lady before me [part 3]

and she stood there with hands so meek they hid behind her, but with her head held forward, she stares up at me, her eyes they seek i blink at her before i attempt a smile; she dwelled

she's so close, yet to touch her i'm afraid am i allowed to? her space i might invade "your smile is like the moon," she said, "crescented and bright, with lips so red"

but a crescent hides a shadow; what does such entail? "a mystery for mine to solve" there was none to solve, vulnerability it was, it would be best for her to not get involved

thus, i turned on my heel, and she was the one to touch me again, my wrist she trapped in her grasp her hold so soft—my instinct was to stay she said and i listened, "i'd rather you not go away"

[definitelynotelle]

the canvas is full and it couldn't take more one stroke, two strokes, its beauty might escape the red it bled had long faded, but the traces they remained; the art piece was yet to be satisfied