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Someone asked me to draw
Draw what heartbreak looks like
I finally got tired of drawing a broken heart
And I started drawing you
Barbara R Maxwell
The little cat sat in the window
She was watching the snow falling outside
This was her first winter

The little cat

Inside was at all Christmas tree
It was decorated with bright lights and ornaments
The lights and sunlight made them glimmer
At times it looked like they were covered with diamonds

The little cat

The little cat loved to look at them and sit under the tree
She had never experienced the magic before
Recently she had been adopted

The little cat

As she sat at the window she had a deep feeling of contentment
The snow began to gently fall outside
As she watched the scene outside she heard faint music
She closed her eyes to listen
She was grateful for her new home and owners

The little cat
She was gold
I was copper
She was rare
I was common
Ryan O'Leary
On a bright blue sky
which is rare as hens
teeth in Ireland, I saw
a jet stream that looked
exactly like a tuning fork.
I don't suppose there is
any connection between
that and the sound barrier.
Mitch Prax
Dear me-
I think I can
love again,
not well,
but at least
I am trying.
Semi-literate Poet
Do you think a girl could love a boy who writes for her a million poems?  That's what I plan to do.
Sin wah
Stomp, clack, shuffle, thump
The foot hits the ground
At first only tweeting
Not another sound

Burning heat
Soaks through the skin
A Window opens
What lies within?

Each step forward
Another back
Can’t shake this feeling
Hug, break, defend, attack.
but you don't really know how to touch me
Today my friend told me
I was acting strange
I gave her the
of a sugar high
But really,
I was just being
My breath
amidst the memories
and the ticking clock.

It's been too long
since I stopped and listened
to the gentle rain

or just paused to see
the sunlight on your face.

The                                                                 same
In 5 months
my life is over.
I’ve studied for 16 years.
What do I do when it ends?
It is an emotion with all the power
I find myself saying,
I cannot live a fulfilling life
Without you.
I am happy.
Because I know,
This is what I've been waiting for
Can be read top to bottom or bottom to top, but love will always stay the same
i laugh at the irony
that love broke my heart.
I was told
Numerous time
To never beg for love
To never give out love so easily
But it's so hard
When all i can do is love others
But never myself
So i kept begging
Begging for someone
To love me back
Even though
I know
I'm so much more than a beggar
Love is
neither eternal nor existential

its just like a spark from a flint in a flourished forest.

When the spark vanishes the forest burns.
I don't know if I loved her the way she deserved but I am sure as hell that I loved her with all of my heart.
I don't know if I will ever get over her yet all I know is all this pain was worthy for all the happy moments  and ***** giggles of her.

When you love someone hold on tight to them no matter what.Even if its lame especially when it's lame.
it's not hard to be faithful,
but it's hard not to break someone's heart.
what is one supposed to do when they are feeling never enough because they have given too much of themselves to others and the world around them.
live life unfulfilled because they have given their most vulnerable parts a spotlight on a lonely stage.
days go by on a continuous loop and they feel like their purpose is withering away in the wind.
what is one supposed to do.
trying to tell myself that i am enough
She asked me to get drunk
and write poems.
I've been around the sun
Twenty nine times and can tell you
that love is like
reading Bukowski

I told her what it felt like to be held
and feel like you’re nothing and nowhere.
She told me what it felt to hold and feel like  you’re something and everywhere.

And Jesus
and all of us
wept while the sun
fled west to Copernicum
With roses in her wake.
A poet is no more than a person
A mother
A daughter
A lover  
Someone needing release
Or someone needing to recover

It’s the art they create when that ball of ink or stick of led dances on the canvas they so perfectly prepared.
And when the end result and their purpose become perfectly paired.
Noni Winters
I stumbled upon you
Like a child
that finds a pretty stone

Bewildered by your presence
I sat and admired
Counting your cracks
Caressing what makes you glitter

You stood infront of me
Bold and beautiful
Like nothing I'd ever seen

And as you gave me your attention
I think I misconstrued your intentions

I wanted to put you in my pocket
But you said no

So there you sit
Perfectly unpolished
A love

I can only visit
Devon Brock
To give us naught but bleak display,
To say, to say,
Love has never tethered moon
That way,
That heather never blooms but brays
To drop the stars in sage and grays.

And in this flash hewn verdance sent,
Aghast the sea in violet vent,
Abhors the ******-singed regret,
This skirmish lost though never met.

And where upon a furrowed leaf,
The miner enters as a thief,
To take the blood but not belief,
Was not the time to span a grief?

But given naught but bleak display,
That tethered moon has gone astray,
And pulls not tide but skin away,
To slink beyond a son and pray.
I’m tired of you
No one deserves what you’ve taken
Taken from my heart
The countless bouts of pain
Emotional turmoil
I’ve decided that I’m waiting,
Waiting for someone who truly loves me
where shall I send my poems?**

to my eyelashes,
for they beat irregularly
unconcealed and unconscious
like my poems

to my fingertips,
where they are released fluidly
they grasp, strained and staining, tapping breaths
like my poems

to my smile,
fleeting and happy weeping fortuitously
a lifetime of a whisper, glimpsed and gone
like my poems

to my brain,
where they are symmetrically born only to die ceremonially
a fireworks duration evaporating into a rich velvet
like my poems

like my poems,
none will survive me,
blemishes, pockmarks, beauty marks, residues,
in a flash bang born, in a flash bang consumed

3:08am dec. 9 2019
on good days
sunrise follows sunset
the world of beauty
is born each morning

on bad days
sunset follows sunrise
darkness is coming
we're all gonna die

every other
day of the year
I have better
things to do
Ive lost all motivation on loving you
Being with you is tormenting
You drag my soul made blue
And you've made me hate loving

Anger corrupts my heart
As beautiful awakenings disintegrates
You enabled my introvert
Now depression reincarnates

I'm so blue it has become evil
No remorse can be tamed
Everything seems vile
It appears I am chained

Loving you felt so euphoric
Until you cursed it for fear
Now I stand disorientated
As everything is unclear
The dragonfly
surrounds the well
and brings herself
quite to the center
then whirls around
waves that hit
the heart-
and enters
do you have the

chops to be with

The Word as it dies?

poet a race human--

imbedding a chest...

left  to its own devices.

let it alone.
Mica Light
She's shaking.
For the taking.
Swallowed in fog.
Connection is lost.
She's cut off
From herself.
She's cut off.
Can't get out.
There is no where but here.

"Disappear. Disappear."
She whispers.

"I am here. I am here."
She answers.

"Tell me." He says,
"Tell me all that you dread."

And her fears spoke louder
Than anything ever said.
Inspired from learning about polyvagal theory and the feeling of being "stuck" in the sympathetic state (fight/flight/freeze) or dorsal (collapse). Speaking about where youre at can help you bring back ventral state to the foreground, the beneficial state, the ability to have connectedness at ease.
Your lips,
Our kiss,
Are the,
Sweetest thing,
I ever tasted.
Your heart,
Our love,
Are the,
best thing
We ever wasted.
Katherine Brooks
I go to some meetings
they are meant to help

but all I feel like is a scope
of a presence coming through

a following of all the lives
that people live to them selves

coming out in the open
weighing down everyone's own individual loan
NAMi, suicide awareness
She takes the stand
With the voice of millions on her back
And speaks the fact that we all know,
far too well to be true -                  
                                           Me too.

She is heard but not believed,
She is heard with faith deceived .

When will it be enough -
Is one in six not enough ?
Is one sister, one friend
still - not enough?

one colleague, one mother, one wife, one lover -
one teacher, one doctor, one preacher, one author -
one husband, one son, one brother.
Which one will it take, to stop
the non-consensual clock
and make us realise that -

Time. Is. Up.
I'm jealous of the rain
It gets close to you
Closer than I ever will
It touches your skin
It combs your hair
It comes when you're sad
It stays when you're happy
I love you but you don't love me
So I say
I'm jealous of the rain
Sorry I haven't written anything as of late. I have been really busy with school. I really hope you enjoy.
Edit: thanks for the comments the original song is Jealous by Labirinth

the hardest part
was admitting;
not that i had
loved you once
and it was lost
but that i had
loved you once
and never stopped

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.

if my mind
was the universe
thoughts of you
would be the
stars that fill it
beyond measure

hello, everyone!
i’ve decided to move to a different
platform where i’ll be posting my
polished writing pieces (both old
& new) from now on.

this page will now serve as a place
for me to dump my raw & unedited
pieces. though it would mean a lot
to me if you checked out my works
on the new platform, too.

here’s my tumblr url:

all the love, eureka.
I'll put it in the simplest way possible
I am
In love

With you
But without you
“You’re not good enough”
Is the one sentence you should
Never tell yourself.
Hi. I’ve been struggling with this my whole life. It’s like I’ll never be able to convince myself. I feel like my poetry is at a decline. I feel as if nothing I write is good. I couldn’t tell you the amount of “drafts” &  private poems I have on here just because I’m afraid.
Afraid of ridicule.
Afraid of hating myself more.
Afraid of everything.
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