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I smoked to fill my lungs
to **** the flowers that grew there
the ones you planted last december
what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists
Kanak Kashyup
She is burying herself
down in the ground,
instead she is getting
closer to the stars. She
isn't from the world
crawling on the ground
and even unlike the creatures
with wings in air. She
talks of the things
underground but loves
the cosmos above the
clouds' abode. She isn't
a devil soul, but, she is a
fairy trapped in
unfairly tale of life.
She has thorns all over her shards instead she picks petals from her abyss.
Grow from unrequited love & feelings….      

                        continue to love anyway.

You’re more beautiful that way. ♥️
Mohd Arshad
Is so bold and valiant

It could itself defeat
Its honour by defeating the warriors of hate
people say you die twice,
once when you stop breathing
twice when someone says your name,
for the last time.

if you fall in love a poet,
she will never stop
carving the letters of your name
pouring the warmth of your smile
locking the memory of your embrace
carefully and shamelessly
on paper, for others will remember.

though the idea of timeless
never exists
but in her concept of time,
you will be alive
for eternity.

to love,
thus keep you eternally, i'd say:
You were, are, and will always be
               my everything.

I am fond of you
not just above all,
but within every breath of life.
listen to the falling leaves
hear them saying
all they need
is to be carried
upon the breeze
forever falling on our knees
is the most intelligent way to be
and guarantees that we
will remain as humble
as an ancient tree
giving love in perpetuity
yet born from a single seed
this isn’t going to make sense
cause it’s not supposed to
and if I’m being honest
this isn’t for you
it’s not even for me

I’m stuck
I’m trapped
I’m lost
I’m every other word that describes people who feel at a dead end

I’m typing on a ****** phone
That’s connected to a ****** connection
That could possibly be a metaphor for my life

I’m writing
Because I don’t know what else to do

I’m writing
Cause that’s what they told me to do

But they also told me that what I think isn’t always true
That I’m special and I just don’t see it

But that’s the thing
I don’t see it

And if I don’t see it then why should it matter if anyone else does

And if I’m thinking something why should it matter if it’s true

What matters is that it’s in my head
What matters is that it’s always there

But here I am
Stuck in the same place
Back to square one
No progress made
The same questions, whether true or not

Will I amount to anything?
Do I really help?
Am I really worthwhile?
Do you actually care?

I see these people
When I’m online
They smile and post
They edit and pose

I can’t help but wonder

Do you really smile, or do you just do it to look happy like me?
Do you really feel happy, or are you trying to lie like me?
Do you understand what I feel?

Or is it just me?

I’m not trying to be selfish
I don’t want a lot
I just want to be happy
And I want others to be happy with me
But neither is happening

So instead there’s a poem
That doesn’t even ryhme
That makes no sense
  I’ll try harder
Butch Decatoria
Dressed to the nines,

Among threes and fours

Nitpicks the suit of floaters,

Debutante rutilant and

Yankee doodled too.
Buried Words
But what she doesn't know is,
He sits with his head in his hands,
Not knowing what to say to the broken girl,
On the other side of the screen.
Four walls and a roof
Love all around
Happiness should shine through
Not this awful frown
Having more than enough
Why do I weep?
Is it me
Or is it this disease
I want to be happy
I’m nothing but privileged
I’ve got more than I need
But still gloominess leads
I shut down in silence
My voice never heard
I want it to stop
My problems all absurd
Crystal Freda
Your smile
can melt away
every tear.
Conquer every fear,
and will always be here.

Your smile is the best
thing *** gave you.
It sticks like glue,
and helps with
all you do.

So keep smiling
even if you don't feel so.
Your smile brightens as you go,
and is making others grow.
Last night, you asked me what I was afraid of
And under the stars and the influence of sin
I refused to confess
I was afraid of you
you, your cigarettes, your proximity, your touch, your music, your hands, your hair, your voice, your drunken state, your sober state, your apathy, your roundabout ways, your words asking for another, your blur
Matthew Harlovic
to them or they
here's a brief overview
find me on a bad day
i'll hurt both of you

© Matthew Harlovic
I only tagged love because I'm full of it ****
Somewhere, far away    
the stars cry    
glistening tear drops, frozen    
forever, in the dark sky    
Will the amber ever melt    
spreading its wings of sunshine?    
or remain forever embedded    
in the eyes of mine...
O you ! Do me a favour,
Please not love me.
Yet I asked your hatred,
So please hate me.
But you gave not either,
And left deserted me.
Losing your company, was a shock,
This hazard is shame on me.
Broken heart poem
suffer me,

that is...

allow this vista

to be superimposed

unto your own.

glean from your

kind, make the necessary

human inferences.

that a mirroring calm

awaits the storm.

which will yet astonish

you anew, even with all

your foresight.
there's always this one reason
that made us all a poet
and that lonesome experience
we never wanted
Ally Ann
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of ****
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
Levi Johnson
The rich do it,
And so do the poor.

The greatest, The brightest,
All nothing more

Than a wick, ignited
And struggling for

More air;
More time to discern

What will happen
When there's nothing left to burn.
I sometimes look at myself and worry
That inside i'm always going to be that awkward kid
The one who grew up into his face
But cant seem to grow up into his mind
Shah Fahad Sani
A blink of words
That can't be said
Or even be written
She is poem of thousand words

She is fierce and gentle
All at once
She's a song
An unending song

She is a sparkle
She is a shine
She is the only thing
That i want to call mine

She is my everyday
And an everynight
She is every morning
And an every twilight

She is all i know
She is all i see
She is a sweet melody
She is an  unmatching rhythm
I dream

of you

In a restless sleep.

I  d

away into nothingness,

and dream of what could have been.
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
I have never thanked you,
for the conversations.

I have never thanked you,
for the smile.

I have never thanked you,
for asking me how i'm really doing.

I have never thanked you,
for staying alive.

Thank you,
thank you.
What does it mean to be human?
Does it mean that your body is flesh and bone?
My body is made of plastic.
What are you made of?
What makes a person whole?
Is it fulfillment? Happiness? Soul?
Whatever the case, I am not whole.
Are you?
Are humans intelligent or ignorant?
I am both.
Which one are you?
Are humans kind or wicked?
I do not know which one I am.
Do you know?
Do humans get to choose who they are?
I have tried to mould myself as best I can, into the person I want to be
Have you?
Are you human?
I am, decidedly, not human.
I am that which I do not know of
I am that which I do not wish to discover
I hope never to know who I am.
Who are you?
Uhhh **** my man
you are
totally right.
I'm as dry as
a desert, I'm a dead
empty land. I used to be
a  jungle  when  the  clouds
where by my side, and now that
they are gone, my trees, my dreams
they dried and died. Because of this,
nothing grows inside of me, there is
only silence and despair. I can't feel
what  I  write,  I  barely  feel alive
I want to feel human again
Oh ***, I really miss
the rain
Es frustrante tener  las palabras pero no el tiempo y luego tener el tiempo y no recordar las palabras
mia x
it was such a pretty colour
like blossoming pink
would’ve been better not running down my sink
razor blades and cuts
bathroom locked shut
i’ve got a feeling of despair
just churning in my gut
a beautiful curse
etched into my skin
droplets of red
appearing from within
there’s these voices in my head
and they visit me a lot
i can hear my heart beating

but i just want it to stop
Jack P
Have you ever liked someone so much you regret meeting them?
Humble Edward
My silence is deafening but my screams are unheard
The conditions:
Overcast, with no wind.
Summer over thousands of miles away.

From the Eastern United States and Canada
To Mexico’s Transverse Neovolcanic Mountains…
I miss you.
I never knew
If you gave me butterflies
Or just made my stomach hurt
Idk, here's a poem
seven billion humans
and i'm starving
for human affection
Talis Ren
I outgrew myself long before I was grown
Too lengthy, too much
Always a paper trail to nowhere
A spiralling plot
A story with too many words

Ever felt like that?
Ink instead of blood
Like your life is not your own
Marcella Kay
It runs
Through her blood,
Her veins,
And her soul
As she rises.

She is the head
Of more than a thousand
As she fights her way
Through fate.

She bloomed
From the dark place
As the pain,
She learned to bare
And gave her strength.

She been built
And trained all her life
To fight through
The wars
As a warrior.
Lost Girl
I am a warrior.
Strong than her demons.
Braver than the darkness.
your prestige and glamour
have grown too much
so many people bow down to you but
you can’t see your own feet.
expect me unwelcome
to your golden throne
i’ll raise your prices
flat iron my tongue to make you happy
rhythmize my lips so they sway
to the beat of my hips,
to the music of love
you are nothing but the cause of blood on my fresh wounds.
i am nothing but the cause of your fatal demise on paper.

but you didn't just cause bleeding,
but i didn't just cause your demise on paper.

funny how things come to be, my love.
dab on that wound with alcohol
Let me disappoint you,
No one
Has ever let me
Feel like this
And just let me, let it go
Without letting me go
It is so beautiful
That even when
You are apart from me
I feel your hands
Cradling my heart
The only one
To let me fall apart
But not let
A single thing break
Lightheart <3
I don't blame you
Nor me
Just the situation
I'm not angry
I'm not hurt
I am mad
But at peace
I understand
That it was my mistake
To allow myself
To listen to you
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