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 1041° 
Chris Saitta
When she folds into me and weeps,
The world of empty things falls into me
Like the wetness of July in antiquated Rome,
Mother of tears, Mater Lachrymarum, in Forum stone,
The rain-addled veneers of Octavia’s portico.

Gather up these black sickened bellies of ruins,
Turn them out to make hunger the den of the skies,
Let the cracked whisper of each monument and temple
Breathe as Caesar, in unending stillness like a bare road.

A road is the sadness of seeing our beginning
But knowing love its far-off end is foretold.
 156° 
Octavian Cocos
Your eyes are limpid, as it is the lake
When breeze is gentle and it doesn't shake
And they are as profound as the blue sea
Far in the distance, where the ships feel free.

Your eyes are peaceful, as a lamb asleep
When is surrounded by the flock of sheep
And they are like two gems, precious and bright
And your sweet laughter fills them with delight.

Your eyes are brown like all the bears that roam
In the Carpathian woods, their lovely home,
But they are finer than they use to be
When deep within they mirror only me.
 149° 
Rose
I wish things were different
Between you and me
But all of these feelings,
That's all they'll ever be.
Loving someone so deeply knowing you can never have them is a different kind of pain.
 131° 
Jaxey
Love (down)

I love you
And you will never hear me say
That I don't
I know
We are meant to be
I can't believe that you think
You're not beautiful
I'm sorry but
You are mine
You can never say that
I'm lying

Evol (up)
Reverse poems are great my doods
 97° 
Eshwara Prasad
People vicariously slay a person's character after he dies, creating an enduring myth from which the real person never emerges.
 87° 
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
 76° 
ok okay
As the world plummets
So will my mind

As the sky becomes polluted
So will my eyes  

As the bright lights start fading
So will my dreams

What I think has become infinity

I can't see what is right in front of me

Because the bright lights are nowhere to be seen
 66° 
shana
They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love.
"
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
understand the difficulties

understand the fear


it needs to have activity

it needs to have depth


yet there is no need for admiration

no need for folk to like it

and we worry when they do
 45° 
jay
Roses are red
Berries are blue
She's for me
NOT FOR YOU
if by chance
you take my place
i'll take my fist
and hit your face
:)
THIS IS RANDOM. DON'T HATE MEH PLS
 42° 
Jerry kizuwili
I smile when I think of you because
the sound of your voice gets to me.

My smiles are as the stars of heaven
Because your words gets to me.
#love, trust,
 33° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 30° 
Micah
And here we are
the end.

Five years running
and nothing to show

except the slowed
platonic love

and tired
texts

and an absence
of what once was

Except you don't know
do you

know that I'm
leaving us

know that I'm
panicked

into wondering
if I'm behind in
people

experiencing people

I feel I'm at a loss
with you

because we met each other
too soon

and now I'm just pointed bones

and you are the sun

and I'm greedy
for still wanting a piece of you

But I am burnt

The End.
I didn't think I'd write this kind of poem about you.
-
a tasteless empty word
like numbness of the fingers
like numbness of the tongue
a numbness of heart
and false plastic lungs
-
bland face
bland skin
bland stomach
and bland eyes
-
gleaming
with
wax satisfaction
in a false candle pose
bland
wax candle prose
written
by plain poet hands
-
I am a wax figurine poet
who writes
beautiful
but bland
verses.
 27° 
Callamasttia
The universe loves a bad joke.
 25° 
Caleb Kyme
You told me not to get lost in the woods
I am sorry but I had to search for the one that made me insane
My reason for loving and living
Now I am back singing a bitter symphony, a cruel harmony
I wish I listened in the first place
 23° 
Traveler
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
.


Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

Vanity
All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
 23° 
Akta Agarwal
After being tortured for a year

She always do fear

With the sound of gear

Or when anyone is near

She has forget to cheer

The painful voice of herself and others she could only hear

But she can't able to share the reason of her tear

But She know all alone she have to bear the pain

She always do panic with everything

She do need very much  care

But she never allows anyone to come near

She have said once she is broken to the core

And unable to repair

But she will not live with this panicness and fear

She know she have to be brave

To fight with her fear

And she will surely fight with all her fear

For again to cheer
 21° 
JD
My art
is not about me
but the images I speak,
about the pictures
I paint of the sea
or the many night skies
that you see
about the people
I described
and the words
that I've combined
and soon you'll find
that the meaning behind
my art
is not about me
but what you seek
art lies in the eyes of the beholder
 21° 
Mykenzie
So many poems
and stories
have gone unwritten
due to fear of not being good enough
 21° 
Eloisa
If there comes a time
that you might lose me
Find me in my poetry
 20° 
zumee
Dear Reader,
if you're reading this
it means
I'm dead
as a paper

free

to be etched
with the poem
I tried to write
so many times
when I was m-
 20° 
xavier thomas
Invested my love to you 3 different times
then you ghost me like I never existed?
naw you got this -ish twisted, love

I want a refund
 20° 
Deidre Lockyer
In the morning of yesterday
There were strangers talking in my garden, heads close together
Intent on each other, in whispers
I heard them say your name
And the earth shifted a little...the season moved forward a little
And I heard myself sigh like a dreamer

Harvesting hearts and marigolds
The thief steals in when we least expect it, masqued and lithe
Wanting an exploration of Souls
Oblivious, if we’re generous
But still the knife cuts deeply...the blade turns without intention
And I’m bleeding out like a Madrigal

I loved you too much in the Mirrorfall
I found you in the violin’s shadow
Dust and star tears are my witnesses
I love you
My joy and my abyss
I am trying to believe in a love for me.
 20° 
tenielle
maybe people are meant
to fall in love
but not meant
to be together.

i was coming to terms with this
only to find out
we werent in love.
i was.
you never loved me
you didnt feel anything for me
you tried to,
but loving someone isnt something
you can make happen.

we always said we were meant to be, right?
soulmates
perfect for each other
you said our love was pure
and real
and unbreakable.
look at it now,
its shattered.

falling in love with you
was the easiest thing
ive ever done.
falling out of love
will be the hardest.
i guess the [lovers] code has been cracked.
 19° 
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.
 19° 
misha
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
 19° 
UnitingWriting
The way you stand
The way you sit
The way you secretly laugh for a bit
You’ve been hurt
You’ve been broken
And yet your heart is wide open
You think no one sees
You think no one cares
But that is really just not fair
Because I see
Because I do
My heart is filled by just looking at you
 18° 
Lucas Ennis
It feels like my wrists are burning
Blood is dripping down my arms
My head keeps screaming
I shouldn't of self-harmed.
My mom is going to be mad.
She's going to hit me again.
Give me another bruise.
Now my scars have some friends.
Just wash off the blood.
Dry off with the towel.
Wrap up your arms.
Go back to your personal bubble.
Isolate yourself for another week little girl.
Take you medicine.
And jump off the hill.
Just a little vent cause I feel icky.
 18° 
Colm
The moment someone knows me
The moment someone sees
I exist
I am present
I am back to being me

And so I go where noone knows me
To where I'm openly not seen
To not exist for a few hours
Is such a blessing
Not to be
The January Lasts

It's not about non-existence. It's about getting away from the self without reset. It's about being... Refreshed. And we all do that differently.
 17° 
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
 17° 
Erika
i spend my days
pouring myself into the cups of others

only to find that
when it’s time for myself
to take a sip

all that’s left
in my cup
is the remainder of a girl
who gave too much
self care is extremely important. most days I fight my depression by putting smiles onto others faces, but forgetting about my once bright smile.
 16° 
Redroses
You were like a drug to me.....
   I can't get enough of you.....
 15° 
Tanya


Yesterday I cried to the moon
as she wiped my tears away
made my worries disappear
so I could sleep again.



Today I smile at the sun
and it shines back on me,
what a wonderful world
to be alive;
to be me.
 15° 
Bellpepper
I hear
your sobs

and I

see
your blood

and I

know
you're suffering

but still I-

I turn away.
 15° 
fray narte
slice my tongue until the pieces resemble flower petals — until poems tremble on my very lips. on summer afternoons, they will look like the dried amaranths on your bedside table — in a city apartment you left. slice my tongue until the pieces resemble smoky quartz. it will sit quietly — each side showing the wild and quiet ways of aching. slice my tongue until it heals its wounds — until the sunset casts what's left of its light, and maybe my state of decay will finally look beautiful.
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