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 418° 
yellow soul
I wanna cry in the safety of your arms
But when ever you’re around I’m suddenly fine

Until I’m alone again
And I need your arms to stop me from feeling this lonely
 412° 
Marla
I live for pleasure
And it bores me.
Out of measure,
I live deplorably.
In all frankness,
I always tell lies.
Reality is a mess
I lately despise.
Why not let go?
Why fritter away?
Because I may never grow
Lest I see the end of the day.
 294° 
Declan ODonohue
i
feel
you
when i see two strangers
holding each other tightly
on the corner of H and 4th
your lips next to my ear
and eyes open wide
its like you never left
but only for an instant
and then the train rolls past
and the signal turns
and i am off to Giant
to get maseca
Another old mushy one.
 260° 
Madelyn
all I want is too sit in the sand with you
the salty sea breeze washing over us
under the shade of the palms
together
 259° 
OpenWorldView
standing in the rain
facing heaven, arms spread wide
tears invisible
you can't see into
the soul
 250° 
Raygan Emma Jane
Loving you was like handing a picked flower to a swarm of bees
Small gestures with premeditated endings
Good intentions were not enough
 201° 
Mae
Boys with sisters are said to be better.
He was dim at best, yet, fooling us all.
With the grips of winter, I grew bitter.
By the end of day, my hand would sure fall.
Touch to love, to feel, with malice? I reel.
She came to me with news that bit my soul.
With my growing age, I lost my even keel.
She said, take no act but I lacked control.
In the crowded hall, I search for his face.
Languorous eyes fail, where mine had been keen.
His comfort and smiles resolved my distaste.
My hand harkened his face, a blood spat scene.
All the anger, all the rage felt in youth,
Yet the excited hand spoke an untruth.
This sonnet is based on a true event. In high school, I hit a kid because my friend told me he molested her on a camping trip.  In all honesty, I hit him because he resembled all the men that ever hurt me.
 160° 
chris
I thought

we’ve been    through it all

but you            threw it all

 away.

-

nothing is left
                             now but
  
my broken pieces
why’d you have to do that to us?

to me?
 138° 
Andrew
If I’m always ashamed of the things I’ve done
Should I always be ashamed of the things I do?
 130° 
Jules KM
Glimmer of fried onions
Protest against their treatment
in the frying pan.

A hissing voice to keep me company
in the empty kitchen.
A love letter to one of my favorite foods.
 126° 
FreeMind
Sometimes I wish I could stop writing
About my affection

But my poems would become empty,
Meaningless

If they were no longer about You
May 25, 2019
#83
 112° 
Nina
It's been a few days since I last saw you
I can hardly remember how you sound like
So I play your voice messages on repeat
In order for me
Not to forget
The sound of your voice
 110° 
Mono Chrome World
It's either

Our hearts are
               MONSTERS
that's why our ribs are cages

               or...

Our hearts are
                G O L D E N
that's why we protect it with our chest

Either way

We should never let it go.

We release a beast

Or

We lose a treasure
It's never a win a win with your heart locked forever... rather an all for nothing chance
 109° 
Kellin
Give this breath that once breathed
life into me and give it to someone more wanting, deserving
 106° 
Nina
But I crave the pain you put me through
Cause if I am bleeding
I know
that u touched me at least
Sounds a bit better in german :)
 91° 
Blckstr
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 ****** –”
I know it sounds ******,
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.
 69° 
Mote
i.

trauma prints
strange maps. braids my hair.


ii.

i tell god
i am his biggest fan.

lilac shinbones

shining.
needles slid through dimples

shining too.
 66° 
Siviwebaraza
You touched my soul
And heart like how
The sun touches the earth
In the morning and made
My world bright
For that i love you
Light of my life
I love you for being you
♋︎

loneliness is real
don't doubt it for a moment
it can make you motionless
you can't get out of your own head
everything is frozen in time
time is your enemy
an emptiness you can't fill

But, it can be filled
family
friends
strangers
prayer
meditation

Wipe your eyes
tomorrow you'll
see the world differently

♋︎
This is just for those who are seemingly lost in their loneliness.  May you find your way out of it. God Bless
Find hope through God
 61° 
laura
August burned quickly, incipient nostalgia
prematurely vanished, mellow and gentle
sea stone on the tiled table, cedar plank
with fish, sunset through the eye-slit window

thigh high in life and riding wherever life
takes me like a hopeless romantic
shout out to ang for lighting literally every poem of mine up

edit: Daily #2 babyyyyyy
 61° 
unholy ghost
the way the
story twists -
all the harm
came from your
hands, and yet
in the end
I am the one
to carry the
blame.
 54° 
The Lone Rager
Like shameless lovers
Autumn trees slowly undress
to make Winter come.
Hopefully, this one never
goes out of season.
 54° 
Niamh Collins
i count the freckles on your face to erase the things i feel about you
slowly, take my time
on me you can rely
 53° 
Suresh Gupta
BLISS

05/24/2019



in death lies the seed of birth,

so as we are cradled in one form,

so shall we be cradled in another.





no reason for dismay,

no cause for anguish
I choose to bear openly,
My scars.
As a reminder of where I once was,
But am no longer.

A Memory's catharsis returns me to where I was lost.

I once was lost,
And now I am grounded,
Rooted in my mind.
With but the flower petals of a broken past.
 51° 
Peter Balkus
Her eyes
reflect my moon.
In her eyes
it's always full.
 51° 
beth stclair
our love was the look you gave me -
full of longing -

controlling me with your voice
and your legs,

until i collapsed, wild and hungry,
desolate and content,

every heartbeat seeking love,
every dream imagined.
 51° 
ohellobeautiful
no matter how hard
these winds blow and shake me
i stay  r o o t e d  with the Earth

storms exist to awake me
one of the first few
rhymes i ever wrote
*and still my favorite*
 50° 
Hg
wri
ting is
threading
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
secrets
you'll
get
po
ke
d
a
l
i
t
t
l
e
.
©Hg
 48° 
Thomas Wan
For some,
Life hits like a truck.
For others:
A thousand papercuts.
Both can ****
        The only difference is
                      Cigarettes shatter lungs
         She shatters everything

            I remembered the first moment
my lips pressed the filter
     as I lit it up breathed it all
                savored every smoke
       as if we covered up painful lies
        in a container of painkillers

The same way  
we used to pressed our lips
     sparked something between us
           savored every moment we had
    as if our love was a rose
               in a valley of tulips
Gold
 46° 
Brandy
Yellow petals swept
In buttered popcorn piles
with resentful brooms
 45° 
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.
 43° 
JR Falk
so I noticed that we both drink coffee.
just like anyone, we both like ours a certain way.
i like mine sweeter, with just the aftertaste of coffee there.
caramel, sugar, creamer.
i think about when i’ll have my next cup, and the idea of it alone makes me happy.
i don’t care what time of day i have it, i almost always have a cup.
i make time for my coffee.
it might be safe to say i think you like your coffee black.
you might add just the smallest touch to soften its bitter taste, but never too much.
sometimes i think you just pour it and carry on, as though it’s nothing important at all.
as though all it is, is just some quick fix.
like you just want to get it over with.
we drink it in two different ways.
i drink it slowly.
i note every flavor in every sip, i enjoy it.
i note the warmth it brings me.
i like it all hours of the day.
you drink it quickly.
quicker than me, at least.
you don’t care if it burns your tongue, or perhaps you’re used to the pain.
you accept it.
you never let it last, you move on to something else soon after.
i lay in your bed, watching your eyes as they skim the screen in front of you.
your mind is somewhere else.
i savor the moments you look my way, if even for a second, and smile at me.
i wonder if you even notice them.
i feel your laugh vibrate my bones, making the hair on my arms stand on end.
do i make you feel at all?
i reflect on it every time i drink my coffee.
i think about it with each and every sip, taking my time.
something tells me that you don’t do the same.
after all, it's just coffee.
but i put my all into this coffee.
i think you like your coffee black.
3:06am
08.09.18

im actually drinking coffee rn. rip
 43° 
Cassie
I'm stronger than you think, you know.

I will bloom despite the snow.
 40° 
the dirty poet
i see the flyer at starbucks

"are you caucasian?
without mental health
and drug problems?"

wow
i don’t know the answer to any of these questions
is a jew a caucasian?
is the occasional *****, ****-slamming drunken rampage
a drug problem?
as for mental health
i’m a deadbeat poet and unpopular pop musician
i’ve got a job fighting death and boredom
and i just changed my facebook password to "eat ****"
my frustrations have driven weaker souls to homicide
but are these PROBLEMS?
 40° 
Jayantee Khare
***

hold me not
touch me not
maybe I'm clumsy-clumsy-clumsy!

have headache
want chocolate shake
maybe I'm lazy-lazy-lazy!

feel me not
mind me not
I'm cranky-cranky-cranky!

the mood is swinging
find me clinging
I'm touchy-touchy-touchy!

may be crazy
sometimes hazy
I'm moody-moody-moody!

stay away
go your way
I'm feelo-feelo-feelo!

just be there
patient listener
I'm despo-despo-despo!

here i contradict
have conflict
I'm ******-******-******!

changing hormones
troubling estrogens
tell me not a fatso-fatso-fatso!

maybe I'll be ok again!
maybe you'll love me then!


Maybe few females relate....resonate....rate .....
A big thnx to all readers and those who appreciated, thnx hp, thnx Elliott
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