alyssaardytte

crazy over Harry Styles

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  • alyssaardytte 92w

    #love #poetry

    The link below is my story in Wattpad. Please check it out. Thank you
    https://my.w.tt/kgihq09fL5

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    You can love me until the right one comes.

    ©alyssaardytte

  • alyssaardytte 113w

    I sat on a chair facing the balcony, as I slowly filled my lungs with nicotine.
    I watch you from the corner of my left eye; moving around to what used to be our room, while you pack up your luggage.

    "I'm leaving" you softly said that I almost didn't hear, because of the deafening sound of a suitcase being zipped.

    I choke from my cigarette smoke, as my chest weighs a thousand rocks. I felt your hand gently tapping my back. I met your brown eyes before I shrug your hand off me and look away. I can't stand seeing the colors all over you, when I'm no longer the reason you seems to glow.

    I can't admit to myself that I never noticed us drifting a part. We had our countless fights. I had mistaken a good fuck to make up sex. I brushed off the feeling, that I can't feel love whenever you touch and kiss me. I took it as our normal, when we get drunk almost every night to fill in the emptiness that we are already feeling inside. We lay in one bed, under a single blanket,  but are sleeping back to back and world's away from each other. Did I not really see it coming? You gave me all the signs that you are not happy with me anymore.   How did I let myself wake up alone in a cold sheets? How did I let myself do nothing when you are seeking warmth in the arms of another girl?

    Hell! I did not even notice that I'm thinking out loud, while tears are cascading down my cheeks. You knelt in front of me and clasps both of my hands with yours. "How did I let this happened to us?" I asked you between heavy sobs. You pulled me into a tight embrace, and I cling to your body like I would die if you let me go, and I guess I will. You try to comfort me with your fingers playing with the strands of my hair, but your attempt of making me feel better only makes me cry harder, because I know I'm going to miss it when you're finally gone. Damn it! I already miss you so bad.

    "Baby, it's not your fault that I'm leaving. I fooled you into thinking that I'm fine, because I can't stand to see you like you are right now. I love you, and you are my whole world, but my world is slowly turning dark. I can't drag you into the darkness with me, you already fought hard to bring light into the chaos of my life. You deserve someone better than an asshole. Maybe a man who is not fucked up and will not ruined your life while he does to his own. This separation will hurt for a while, but this is the best for us. You might thank me later for letting you go, when you already found the one" you humorlessly chuckled.

    But then I kiss you begging you to stay and choose me instead if you really love me as you said.

    "But you are all that I need. Let me be your girl, again" I said between our mingled lips. But then you slowly disentangle myself to the comfort of your body. My eyes are asking you why.

    "I love you, but I found myself in her"

    I shook my head and repeatedly screaming "no!" Like a mad woman. I pulled you into a very tight embrace, pleading you not to leave me. I don't care if I look so desperate, but I have to try and maybe you will change your mind.

    But I stop from holding on, when you asked me to. "Alyssa, just stop" your words echo in the sudden silence of the room. I dared to meet your eyes this time, and the look that you give me says it all. You're lying, because you don't love me anymore. My last hope crushed, that this mess that we are in can still be fix.

    As if someone shot me straight to the heart, I let you go.

    You stand and pick up your suitcase, while I hug my knees and continue to cry until I had worn out my eyes to dry

    I only look up when you're finally at the door.

    "I know a man will love you someday better than I did. Find him without looking for me."

    I looked away and light up another cigarette, but I heard you whispered you love me and good bye all in one sentence before you shut the door and finally walking away from my life.

    I deeply inhaled nicotine as I lay my back against the hard, cold wooden floor. I watched the cigarette smoke quickly disappear into the thin air as soon as I exhale, just like our memories that this room once held.

    The mornings that I wake you up, showering your face with kisses and you will cuddle to my neck, murmuring "5 more minutes". The nights, when I can't fall asleep and you will tell me stories about our future together. I crave to stay in those memories forever, but that's bullshit.

    You left me, and it's not because of the lie you've said before you left.
    You left me, because you don't love me enough not to be in love with another woman.

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    Breaking Up What's already Broken

    ©alyssaardytte

  • alyssaardytte 118w

    All these years I've been searching for love in the eyes of all the men; whom I've liked. I've lingered to their touch, craving for the heat, which their body should've ignited against mine; but I guess I'm too numb to feel. Thus, I look for other ways to be in loved. I read between the lines with high hopes, that there are some high context clues within their demeanor towards me, which somehow will fill in the black spaces among their words, that will give me inspiration to write about love, but I found none. The moments I've shared with them were void and I almost doubted all the poets who speak about being a passionate lover, because my experience with men gave away an impression that their kind couldn't spin my head and lift me off the ground with the intensity of being drawn to the point of offering them my life. Yet, I refuse to be stoic; because I have a strong faith that one day I'll be able to write a one great love story and that will be mine, so why not keep on believing?
    I kept on searching for that man who will make my heart skips a beat, and there are a few times that I thought I've found him, but it never lasted or goes deeper than an attraction. Thus, I came to realized that love is more than red upon my cheeks and crazy butterflies in my belly. Love should be like summer, feel like a think blanket during the winter; and appears as stars at the darkest night.  In a long run, I've met plenty of individuals but I never meet love, yet I sure did meet lust. The few kisses that I had are all exciting, but none of it tastes like those being painted at the gallery or described in books. It's either Plato is right when he said that art drives us to illusion, or that my body and what's within my body do not coincide. Thus, I have never been in love in a sense of both my soul and body wants it. And it's tiring; playing hide and seek with love exhaust the remaining optimism in my heart. I woke up one day and I found myself not wanting to leave my bed and is content to be in the arms of patience.

    At that same day; I rode the bus and for the first time in years I don't feel restless. Is it because I stop chasing love? Or is it because of the shoulder; where the side of my head is comfortably leaning on? I've already gained consciousness from my short slumber, and my mind is alive but I can't think of anything else to do. If I open my eyes, I'll be facing a great embarrassment from the person I have not intended to use as my pillow. I try not to move so whoever this is will not notice that I'm already awake, that's when I also noticed that the body which owns this shoulder is as still as a statue. Is this person too emphatic to deprive himself a good position to sit on a long bus ride just to let me sleep well? In the middle of my musing; I felt the bus stops and I heard a voice of a man.

    "I hate to wake you up, but I gotta get off the bus"

    Slowly I detach my head from his shoulder and flutter my eyes open. Right there and then; I've encountered awe.

    As the man left, all I can think about is the most beautiful paradox. I found peace within the chaos in his eyes.  This isn't love, but it seems to be what I was looking for and I want to see it again.

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    At First sight

    ©alyssaardytte

  • alyssaardytte 121w

    "what happened?" I kept asking myself everytime silence filled the empty room I'm in. What happened to that dream I used to have? Gone with the determination in my eyes, when I told my mother I wanted to become a writer. I lost the seed of imagination somewhere at the back of my head, when I lose my mind against my struggle with the darkness that creeped into my system, during the time I was burning out of passion. Then slowly the colors with you once painted my life faded into black and white. I ended up crumpling the hope within that last sheet of paper and putting down my pen knowing that I will leave its ink untouched for a long while, as I painfully admits to myself "I can't write". That was the moment I drifted off my dream. The day that linked same nights like this into a chain making up the passage, which leads me to question the stranger within me "what happened to the girl I used to know?" She shrugs telling me that it's better this way, because my old inhabitant and my self as a home can never coincide. She's filled with dreams, but I've been so fucked up over the years that I can't fulfill even just one of it.
    I took a long drag of my fourth cigarette and let a huge puff of smoke dance around the air, covering my face until it disappears forever, just like how my dreams lingered on my youth and vanish when I'm about to make it happen as I'm old enough to do so.
    But.... I didn't.
    What happened is.... I fucked up my life since the day we grew apart.
    I loved you. You were my starry skies above and my whole world within. I wrote about our story. I'm a poet and you are my poetry. But, almost 3 years had passed and you never return.
    I waited for you. I missed you. I lost my faith that I'll see you again. I tried to love another man. I hated myself for this. I felt remorse with the thought of you. But still I waited, until I felt nothing. I tried to write and get over it all at once, and this is what happened-- you took me away from myself. I don't want to write anymore.

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    Broken Dreams

    ©alyssaardytte

  • alyssaardytte 131w

    Dear old friend,

    Today as I scroll down to my news feed, my finger stops to the photos of you with our old squad. I see that you guys are still hanging out like we used to.
    Noses stuck in a book while sitting at the couch of each other's house,
    Brows knitted together during a deep conversation while sipping our favorite flavor of frappucinno at the windows of Starbucks.
    And losing our minds at the pit of laughter because of some satirical jokes during pizza.
    A sad smile graces my face; as I realized that you go on with life even without me.
    I imagine you frowning right now, and I know you will say "You'll always be my friend despite of the distance"
    Your words will surely comfort me, for didn't I mentioned that I smiled?
    But I also said it was sad, because I know your words are both the truth and a lie.
    You may still subsume me to your category of friends,
    But..
    The facts remain that you and I are the subject of constant flux,
    Each day that we are not together, our hearts are stretch apart,
    You met new people,
    Discover new things,
    Basically you and I grow up,
    And when all of these things happen all at once,
    Am I still who am I to you?
    "Of course" You will scream at this letter.
    You will accuse me of irrationality,
    And I will admit you are right, because how can I even think that you will replace me with somebody else?
    I trust you that you will not.
    I'm your friend and will always be your friend,
    But in what gradation of friendship is my essence as your friend fits in?
    You will say "just as before"
    Yes, I am still Al, Aly-chan, Dhemi and your soulmate.
    Yes, I am still the representation of all those names,
    But upon living an ever changing life, we came upon the realization that only the word remain,
    In my case I'm still your friend but not the best, neither your favorite, nor the most anymore,
    When another thought completes your sentence instead of mine,
    When you prefer another flavor because mine tastes bland,
    Yet, you still calls me friend
    I became a lower oder subsume to a higher one,
    I became a smaller, smaller circle.
    Until your idea of me is no longer the same,
    Thus I am both your friend and is not.
    I press the heart button, because in my mind your form lasts as it was,
    The best, my favorite and the most.
    And that hurts me even more.

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    Love, Friend from the past

    ©alyssaardytte

  • alyssaardytte 134w

    Her hands are tightly balled into angry fists, almost crumpling the 20 pages readings, she's reviewing for today's recitation on Chinese Philosophy.
    Please
    Stop
    Stop
    Please
    Stop
    She can hear the tiny voice on her mind broke from repeating these words louder than the spiteful laughter of her classmates.
    As she close her eyes and tries to control her erratic heartbeats, tears damp her cheeks.
    Let me out of here!
    But the four walls of the classroom are closing in, pressing her body closer to people whom she dared hope never to see again. Suddenly the space, where she moves felt so small; and the air is corrupted by the poisonous presence of wrath, loneliness and disgust.
    Last year, she was lured on this death trap clueless as a deer during the hunting season.  They made her believe she's among their circle and not being circled. Until slowly they preyed on her and when she had nothing left, they still devoured her like maggots of a rotten meat.
    Luckily she is able to escape before they finish her life.
    She's restlessly hiding and running for several months, thankful that they seem not to follow her; because if then she'll be dreadfully found together with the other outcasts.
    Following some kind of passage, she fell into the illusion that she's going to be free, or that she's on her way home.
    But...
    What is at the end of the path is a cliff and behind her... Are the monsters she's running away from.

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    Inside the Mind of the Bullied

    ©alyssaardytte

  • alyssaardytte 134w

    Benjohn kissed her bare spine as she looks for her bra. She shivers; but the temperature in his dark room rises despite of the air-conditioning. He pulls her to his chest, both of his hands are resting on her hips, and his fingers are playing with the waist band of her lacy thong; when he huskily whispered "don't leave yet" while nibbling the shell of her left ear. She softly moans a half-hearted protest; when his lips travelled from her shoulder to her nape.
    "Just one more hour and I'll drive you home" he bargained as he turns her around and showers her face with tiny kisses.

    The only light illuminating their naked bodies is the lamppost outside his apartment, but she can clearly sees his eyes, which are burning with emotion she can't name. Love? Lust? All she knows is she's drawn in to it like Icarus to the sun, so she lets her back falls to his soft mattress and spreads her legs to take all of him.

    The harder he thrusts inside her, the deeper his name being carved on her soul. The often their bodies collide, more traces of him were left all over her. One more kiss and she will never get over him.

    He kisses her... Senseless.

    That night, she would like to think that they had made love, although the harsh truth is that he fucked her again and again to forget the love of his life.

    She's staring at the ceiling, as she reflects with her past with him.

    At 16, he kissed her hand

    At 17, he sung for her Birthday

    At 18, he said he loves her

    At 19, she lost her virginity to him

    And all of these years, he is in love with a girl, who is not her.

    So how did she end up with the air smells of sex; they are laying together side by side and he's talking to her like a friend after being his casual hook up?

    "She had enough of my shit"

    The pain, that is evident to his tone of voice pulls her out of her reverie, and it hurts her as much as forcing optimism with the thought of his girlfriend.

    "She loves you and she'll be back as many times as she left"

    "What if she won't?" He resignedly asked.

    I'm here... Her heart breaks.

    "She will be"

    A broken smile was carved on her lips.

    "Stay the night, I can't lose you as well"

    His hands and lips starts to wander around every inch of her skin.

    "Always and never" she breathlessly moans.

    As soon as all was said, the duvets are again thrown on the floor. The bed is once more a place for a willing slut being used repeatedly by a cracked man for a little of his love as a price.

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    Friends with Benefits

    ©alyssaardytte

  • alyssaardytte 135w

    It was passed 7 in the evening and the rain threatens to pour; when a girl stands in the long line of haggard and impatient commuters. It was a one way ride home, and along all of them-- her feet are also aching for standing for almost 2 hours, but little did the world know that she's waiting for more important than a taxi.
    Her eyes are everywhere, and all strangers started to look like him. She's getting apprehensive by each second that passes by, until she decided not to watch the clock anymore.
    "Where is he?" She keeps asking herself.
    More passengers came in behind her and she's getting nearer to the end of the line. Suddenly angry tears fall from the corners of her eyes to her jaw line and chin. Did he forget about tonight? She miserably tries to stop her sobs, and clumsily wipes her mascara stained cheeks. In that moment her anger subsides and distress overtakes her heart. She tightly grasps the nearly disintegrated Kleenex between her palm and fingers; as she thought of what might possibly happened to him along the way.
    Is he okay?
    It was quarter to 8; when relief and hope spark on her irises. The screen of her cheap Android lights up to his message. Her emotions somersault from ecstatic, surprised, disappointed and finally lonely.
    " Go ahead and shut the taxi's door. Thanks a lot for being so nice. Always take care of yourself and I'll see you someday".
    As she deletes his text, and switched off her phone; she did not realized that the skies are crying for her, because her pain left her dry, and shattered her to a million pieces like sand. She knew at the beginning that their love isn't equal. She gives more from the less of him, but she still chooses to love the boy.
    She rolls up the tinted windows of the taxi, when their eyes met and he sadly smiles at her.
    "Please" she mouthed. The driver starts the engine, and her face is begging.
    But...
    "I love her" he answered as he turned his back away from her with his pretty and curly-haired girlfriend on his arm.
    Then the taxi speeds away from the city with her, but he is the one who left.
    -alyssaardytte

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    The Agony of waiting

    ©alyssaardytte

  • alyssaardytte 136w

    Being happy and feeling happy are distinct to one another and I can't remember the last time, that I've been either.
    I've learned about sadness, when I'm eight. As a kid, I thought that it will pass, and that after a day or two, I will not carry a heavy heart anymore; but it doesn't lose any weight and instead it just gets heavier as I grow older. I remember praying every night for tomorrow to be okay, because I'm so afraid of this pain like a monster lurking in the dark, which created this hallow void at the center of my chest. It is like a black hole sucking up all my thoughts of happiness; it is the feeling like an army of dementors from the world of Harry Potter caught me at the middle of their circle. I'm cold and drained out of life.
    I don't know exactly how I feel. I'm lonely, angry, frustrated, bored, anxious and mostly sad. I don't want any of these marring my soul, but they seem to be elements making up my being. Slowly, they corrupted my mind like virus destroying my whole system and I can't think straight by the thought that they are me, and
    If I don't like them, then I don't like me. And now I have more grudges to myself than to the group of people I hate the most... My family.
    What's the point of living a life, you don't want to live for yourself? Maybe, there is none, and yet I have to make one, so  maybe my point is the end. And let me call it... Death.

    Like autumn leaf I float with the wind as I descend the life I used to have rooted on the tree.
    Falling
    And
    Falling
    Until I lay down the soil, where I should sleep.

    But, the lullaby stops playing and all I can hear is waves splashing the shore. I open my eyes and all I can see is infinite darkness surrounding me; I scream but I choke with my words. Bubbles are coming out of my mouth as I breathe, while water is filling up my lungs.
    I stop kicking my legs and moving my arms. This is my goal when I jump off that cliff. I should not fight it. I calm myself, finally I'm going to die! My life flashes back before my eyes. I remember being afraid of sharks, but here I am feeding myself to them. I've always thought of death by just looking at the sea, so maybe I'm always right when I feel my heart slowing down its beat and my body sinking.
    Down
    Down
    Down
    Underneath the sea.

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    Suicide

    ©alyssaardytte

  • alyssaardytte 136w

    It's been 6 days, 3 hours and 33 minutes since the last time we had a small talk, after not hearing a word from you for several months.
    It was supposed to be a harmless greeting, but my head screams trouble when you started to tell me something. And my subconscious frustratedly sighed... Here we go again.

    It was a day after your Birthday,
    You told me you were drinking all night you turned twenty.
    You know how much I despise your fondness with the alcohol while I know you won't stop because of me, so I just reminded you to take care of yourself.
    But then you asked me " I want to die, why should I?"
    Baby, that terrifies me because I know that question all too well.
    It comes out from broken sanity, funny bellyaches and a void at your chest.
    I felt twice of your pain as I realized that you are among the statistics of victims who suffered from the cruelty of this world.
    I wanted to shelter you in my arms until you felt safe, but I'm not sure if you would let me do that.
    So I let my urges create a pregnant silence between us, which you swiftly break with another query "how did I become cool?"
    I smiled remembering I told you I love you without you knowing it, by repeatedly saying "you're so cool".
    I used that moment as my chance to tell you how much your life matters to me, that your self inflicted death will also kills me.
    Pouring my whole heart with my words I said
    "You're so smart",
    as I thought of your insights and philosophy.
    "Passionate of all the things you focus on, it's like you can do almost everything"
    I remember you getting in to University of the Philippines, fulfilling your dreams, creating more than just an art but masterpiece and making wonderful music. I laughed to myself as I can hear your guitar strumming inside my mind.
    And "super nice"
    thinking about the times you politely talked to my mother, the day you danced along and sung for old women at the home for the aged and just simply being kind to all of us.
    I was still so high by giving you a taste of my poems that has always been at the tip of my tongue for a while now, that I did not anticipated your next words "I've hurt you".
    Three words I tried to brush off,
    But felt like a hung over and seems like the ghost of a cigarette smoke that lingers in the air after a blow.
    The fact that you will leave me again when this night is over and I don't know when you will return gives me anxiety.
    The truth that I'm not the girl whom you call the love of your life, and you will never look at me the same way that you did with her as if she holds the key to your happiness; makes me so envious of what you can give but I can't have; until I felt pathetic, empty, lonely and sad.
    However, I would rather lose you to her than to death.
    I will do everything to make you feel alive even if I have to pay for it with my life.

    Thus baby, if my heart breaks it isn't your fault, but mine.
    I had the choice to let go of our memories, but I choose to treasure both the good and the bad.
    I guess you're right I'm so nice,
    I willingly gave you all that I am when I knew from the start that you can only spare me a tiny part of you. and trust me I'll walk over my shattered pieces in bare feet again and again if that's what it takes to be with you, because baby you're worth the pain.

    At 3am, one week later.
    I write about you again, but this time not to cope up from being madly in love or because i miss you.
    Yet to remember a lesson that loving you has taught me: A great love doesn't always need to be reciprocal, most of the time it is sacrificial.
    -alyssaardytte

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    Unconditionally

    ©alyssaardytte