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 1062° 
fustypetals
scratch my fingers
until it turns red
clenched my fist
til it left a crescent mark
hold my words
til my throat hurts

I'm tired,
keeping all this feelings on my own
living in fears
being scared of everything

I just want it to be over.

/f.r/
 530° 
c a r o l i n e
Suffering and pain, we disguise it all
And just like the rain, what rises must fall
Embracing both the gentle and torrential
And just like the rain, what rises must fall
 386° 
JaxSpade
I made a mistake
I meant to be perfect

But I colored outside the lines
On purpose

I crossed the line
That meant to keep the lines inside

Because I'm not supposed to do it
 340° 
Tompson
I shall die in my bed
Knowing that I could be alive
If I only had the courage
To walk out the door
Without any regret
 278° 
Heather
let me deeper
where fires rage
and continents shift
deeper
where I am transformed
into liquid metal
poured into form
from the desires of your heart
let me deeper
to the boundary where I explode
into a galaxy of crystalline dust
content to circle in admiration
the supernova of your mind
then, let me deeper still
to the concentrated point
of you
where darkness and light
have lost meaning
love and pain fuse into redemption
and the cycles of mortality are revealed
as nothing more
than the haze above the heat of our existence
there, in that center,
I will open the swollen lotus of my being
and we will meet
in the tremoring ecstasy between us
 250° 
a m a n d a
and when
i think of you.
always by mistake.
i want to burn the world to the ground.
 197° 
Empire
I don’t know if I want you
I don’t have any clue if you’d want me
But I know I need someone
So... let’s see where it goes, shall we?
 184° 
kromwellfarkus
Caught in a web
Woven by me.

She loves me
I dont.

She loves me
I do.

Silly backwards fish.

Collect pros and cons
It will hurt either way
Cant quite remember
A single word said.

Think with heart
Think with head
These dreams
Engulf all.

It doesn't matter
This life
Is predestined
As is yours.

This web will age
Its adherence will slack
Freedom will be found
If only temporary.
 153° 
sanchit mehta
What does the Quran say, to love,
but not to hate,
the people come on earth according to his will,
no one has the right to make them pay,
for their sins.
self destruction, mass collapse, this is not what Quran teaches us, it teaches us to love,
but not to hate,
the path taken by one, cannot define a group,
as all they want is peace, i know we want too.
a man goes so deep trying to achieve his Allah,
so unknowingly he becomes blind in his path,
and creates a deadly scar,
Quran doesnt teach us that,
i say Quran is in everyone's heart and in brain,
as for it teaches us to love but not to hate.
so i am not a muslim! but first of all i am a human!so i dedicate this poem to all my muslim bros and sis on this day of EID and hope that you all have a prosperous life ahead. Happy Eid! and yeah i have made an insta acc biohazard_poems  i will often post poems! do support and follow!
 105° 
Shikha narvariya
"आत्मविश्बास"
          (confidence)      
एक अजीब सा आत्मविश्बास भरा था उन लोगों में,
कि हम पैदल ही घर  चले जायेगे..
मीलो चलते रहे अपने होसलो के साथ,
कुछ आसुयो ओर कुछ पसीने के  साथ..
सिर्फ़ इस इन्तजार में एक दिन हम भी,
अपनो से मिलेगे जिनके लिए हम दूर थे..
एक अजीब सा आत्मविश्बास भरा था उन लोगों में,
कि हम पैदल ही घर  चले जायेगे..
भूखे प्यासे तय करते मीलो
कुछ अपने छूट गए बीच सफ़र में,
कुछ अनजाने अपने बन गए उस सफ़र में..
चलते चले गए मीलो अपने घर को,
हर दर्द दबाकर अपने अंदर..
एक अजीब सा आत्मविश्बास भरा था उन लोगों में,
कि हम पैदल ही घर  चले जायेगे...
 92° 
Natasha
romantic


love




never



works


for me.




because



I'm not even sure,




I know




what



that




kind




of



love




is.
 62° 
Lotus May
fake smiles
white lies
empty desires

i’m lost in the
endless layers
of your mask

bodies untouched
gazes unmet
promises unkept

i found nothing
in the insincerity
of your love
I discovered nothing and everything between the lines.
 61° 
Bunny Rubinstein
I have kissed boys

Girls

People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know
 61° 
Aurianna
mind that,
its okay
to be scared
to be better
smile
even when
you're crying
stop running
from the storm
just embrace it
feel everything
fight all you
want, and then
face it
believe in you
trust yourself
free because
you need not know
where you're going
but because
you don't
need to know
let go
im free because i just let it go, fly with the wind baby
 58° 
LaFayette
Hushed whispers carry your demands
A litany of games needing enumeration
I take your direction of my next actions
Prepare to place you under my power

Tie them tighter to ensure compliance
The lack of control is the best part it seems
Hands and feet immobile and trembling
Your fiery eyes extinguished by blindfold

You convulse as I grasp and grip you
My fingers reach your neck and I squeeze
Breathing is shallow but deep in your chest
Harder, you say, but don’t leave a mark
 57° 
John White
I just want it to end.

The hopelessness, the fear,
the constant critic in my head:
I've lived with them all for too long.

All I've ever known is this war, this endless battle.
There's nothing wrong with wanting it to end.
To wish that it didn't is cruel.

But why can't the best solution be the simplest?
Why do I have to keep fighting?

At times it's deafening,
and I'm so exhausted.

Why can't I just lay down in no man's land
and let this battle fall silent around me?

Why can't that be the end?

Because... I'll never know what's possible.
 50° 
Rupert Pip
Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.
Get to know me like I do you; inside and out.
 49° 
bees
the
most
meaningful
thing
ever:
we
might
have
been
together.
meaningful glances
 48° 
CJ Tims
I am ashamed
At how broken i am.
I apologize
For the amount of stress
I may cause in the midst of your
Efforts of trying to keep me held together.
I apologize
that i continue to fall apart
Before your glue has time to dry.
I apologize
That every time you pick a piece of me up,
Yet another breaks.
I am trying.
You are fixing me slower than i am breaking,
And i am ashamed.
Thank you.
Thank you for not giving up
On a broken piece of nothing.
 47° 
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
There is love in the way
You look at the skies after a tiring day,
In the way the heat of the sun
Kisses you and all your worries away

There is love in the changing of seasons,
In the exhausted sigh of the wind
As the last leaf falls off a tree,
You'll know love in a glimpse

But love is not simple as it seems
Sometimes it takes more than just a glimpse
To recognize love when it comes to you
In the form of longing, aching and hurting

Now, the moment you see love in suffering
Is the moment you rise up, up above
Because that means you truly loved, loved, and loved
Until maybe you couldn't
 44° 
A W Bullen
was a costly equanimity
I scavenged from the wars...

a lifetime spent, inventing ways
to close revolving doors...
mental health issues always come back around
it's about finding ways to, accept, recognise and deal with them,
sometimes, it's a piece of ****...other times....not so!
But, hey!..it is what it is......
 44° 
Kayla Burke
i feel myself slipping in and out of reality
reminiscing on the memories that once brought me so much joy

now causing me the most pain

eternal desiderium
i want to punch a hole in my wall
i hate that the love i felt for you is now my most painful memory
 41° 
Félix Arvers
I


Les prêtres avaient dit : « En ce temps-là, mes frères,

On a vu s'élever des docteurs téméraires,

Des dogmes de la foi censeurs audacieux :

Au fond du Saint des saints l'Arche s'est refermée,

Et le puits de l'abîme a vomi la fumée

Qui devait obscurcir la lumière des cieux.


L'Antéchrist est venu, qui parcourut la terre :

Tout à coup, soulevant un terrible mystère,

L'impie a remué de profanes débats ;

Il a dressé la tête : et des voix hérétiques

Ont outragé la Bible, et chanté les cantiques

Dans le langage impur qui se parle ici-bas.


Mais si le ciel permet que l'Église affligée

Gémisse pour un temps, et ne soit point vengée ;

S'il lui plaît de l'abattre et de l'humilier :

Si sa juste colère, un moment assoupie.

Dans sa gloire d'un jour laisse dormir l'impie,

Et livre ses élus au bras séculier ;


Quand les temps sont venus, le fort qui se relève

Soudain de la main droite a ressaisi le glaive :

Sur les débris épars qui gisaient sans honneur

Il rebâtit le Temple, et ses armes bénites

Abattent sous leurs coups les vils Madianites,

Comme fait les épis la faux du moissonneur.


Allez donc, secondant de pieuses vengeances,

Pour vous et vos parents gagner les indulgences ;

Fidèles, qui savez croire sans examen,

Noble race d'élus que le ciel a choisie,

Allez, et dans le sang étouffez l'hérésie !

Ou la messe, ou la mort !» - Le peuple dit : Amen.


II


A l'hôtel de Soissons, dans une tour mystique,

Catherine interroge avec des yeux émus

Des signes qu'imprima l'anneau cabalistique

Du grand Michel Nostradamus.

Elle a devant l'autel déposé sa couronne ;

A l'image de sa patronne,

En s'agenouillant pour prier.

Elle a dévotement promis une neuvaine,

Et tout haut, par trois fois, conjuré la verveine

Et la branche du coudrier.


« Les astres ont parlé : qui sait entendre, entende !

Ils ont nommé ce vieux Gaspard de Châtillon :

Ils veulent qu'en un jour ma vengeance s'étende

De l'Artois jusqu'au Roussillon.

Les pieux défenseurs de la foi chancelante

D'une guerre déjà trop lente

Ont assez couru les hasards :

A la cause du ciel unissons mon outrage.

Périssent, engloutis dans un même naufrage.

Les huguenots et les guisards ! »


III


C'était un samedi du mois d'août : c'était l'heure

Où l'on entend de ****, comme une voix qui pleure,

De l'angélus du soir les accents retentir :

Et le jour qui devait terminer la semaine

Était le jour voué, par l'Église romaine.

A saint Barthélémy, confesseur et martyr.


Quelle subite inquiétude

A cette heure ? quels nouveaux cris

Viennent troubler la solitude

Et le repos du vieux Paris ?

Pourquoi tous ces apprêts funèbres,

Pourquoi voit-on dans les ténèbres

Ces archers et ces lansquenets ?

Pourquoi ces pierres entassées,

Et ces chaînes de fer placées

Dans le quartier des Bourdonnais ?


On ne sait. Mais enfin, quelque chose d'étrange

Dans l'ombre de la nuit se prépare et s'arrange.

Les prévôts des marchands, Marcel et Jean Charron.

D'un projet ignoré mystérieux complices.

Ont à l'Hôtel-de-Ville assemblé les milices,

Qu'ils doivent haranguer debout sur le perron.


La ville, dit-on, est cernée

De soldats, les mousquets chargés ;

Et l'on a vu, l'après-dînée.

Arriver les chevau-légers :

Dans leurs mains le fer étincelle ;

Ils attendent le boute-selle.

Prêts au premier commandement ;

Et des cinq cantons catholiques,

Sur l'Évangile et les reliques,

Les Suisses ont prêté serment.


Auprès de chaque pont des troupes sont postées :

Sur la rive du nord les barques transportées ;

Par ordre de la cour, quittant leurs garnisons,

Des bandes de soldats dans Paris accourues

Passent, la hallebarde au bras, et dans les rues

Des gens ont été vus qui marquaient des maisons.


On vit, quand la nuit fut venue,

Des hommes portant sur le dos

Des choses de forme inconnue

Et de mystérieux fardeaux.

Et les passants se regardèrent :

Aucuns furent qui demandèrent :

- Où portes-tu, par l'ostensoir !

Ces fardeaux persans, je te prie ?

- Au Louvre, votre seigneurie.

Pour le bal qu'on donne ce soir.


IV


Il est temps ; tout est prêt : les gardes sont placés.

De l'hôtel Châtillon les portes sont forcées ;

Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois a sonné le tocsin :

Maudit de Rome, effroi du parti royaliste,

C'est le grand-amiral Coligni que la liste

Désigne le premier au poignard assassin.


- « Est-ce Coligni qu'on te nomme ? »

- « Tu l'as dit. Mais, en vérité,

Tu devrais respecter, jeune homme.

Mon âge et mon infirmité.

Va, mérite ta récompense ;

Mais, tu pouvais bien, que je pense,

T'épargner un pareil forfait

Pour le peu de jours qui m'attendent ! »

Ils hésitaient, quand ils entendent

Guise leur criant : « Est-ce fait ? »


Ils l'ont tué ! la tête est pour Rome. On espère

Que ce sera présent agréable au saint père.

Son cadavre est jeté par-dessus le balcon :

Catherine aux corbeaux l'a promis pour curée.

Et rira voir demain, de ses fils entourée,

Au gibet qu'elle a fait dresser à Montfaucon.


Messieurs de Nevers et de Guise,

Messieurs de Tavanne et de Retz,

Que le fer des poignards s'aiguise,

Que vos gentilshommes soient prêts.

Monsieur le duc d'Anjou, d'Entrague,

Bâtard d'Angoulême, Birague,

Faites armer tous vos valets !

Courez où le ciel vous ordonne,

Car voici le signal que donne

La Tour-de-l'horloge au Palais.


Par l'espoir du butin ces hordes animées.

Agitant à la main des torches allumées,

Au lugubre signal se hâtent d'accourir :

Ils vont. Ceux qui voudraient, d'une main impuissante,

Écarter des poignards la pointe menaçante.

Tombent ; ceux qui dormaient s'éveillent pour mourir.


Troupes au massacre aguerries,

Bedeaux, sacristains et curés,

Moines de toutes confréries.

Capucins, Carmes, Prémontrés,

Excitant la fureur civile,

En tout sens parcourent la ville

Armés d'un glaive et d'un missel.

Et vont plaçant des sentinelles

Du Louvre au palais des Tournelles

De Saint-Lazare à Saint-Marcel.


Parmi les tourbillons d'une épaisse fumée

Que répand en flots noirs la résine enflammée,

A la rouge clarté du feu des pistolets,

On voit courir des gens à sinistre visage,

Et comme des oiseaux de funeste présage,

Les clercs du Parlement et des deux Châtelets.


Invoquant les saints et les saintes,

Animés par les quarteniers,

Ils jettent les femmes enceintes

Par-dessus le Pont-aux-Meuniers.

Dans les cours, devant les portiques.

Maîtres, écuyers, domestiques.

Tous sont égorgés sans merci :

Heureux qui peut dans ce carnage,

Traversant la Seine à la nage.

Trouver la porte de Bussi !


C'est par là que, trompant leur fureur meurtrière,

Avertis à propos, le vidame Perrière,

De Fontenay, Caumont, et de Montgomery,

Pressés qu'ils sont de fuir, sans casque, sans cuirasse.

Échappent aux soldats qui courent sur leur trace

Jusque sous les remparts de Montfort-l'Amaury.


Et toi, dont la crédule enfance,

Jeune Henri le Navarrois.

S'endormit, faible et sans défense,

Sur la foi que donnaient les rois ;

L'espérance te soit rendue :

Une clémence inattendue

A pour toi suspendu l'arrêt ;

Vis pour remplir ta destinée,

Car ton heure n'est pas sonnée,

Et ton assassin n'est pas prêt !


Partout des toits rompus et des portes brisées,

Des cadavres sanglants jetés par les croisées,

A des corps mutilés des femmes insultant ;

De bourgeois, d'écoliers, des troupes meurtrières.

Des blasphèmes, des pleurs, des cris et des prières.

Et des hommes hideux qui s'en allaient chantant :


« Valois et Lorraine

Et la double croix !

L'hérétique apprenne

Le pape et ses droits !

Tombant sous le glaive.

Que l'impie élève

Un bras impuissant ;

Archers de Lausanne,

Que la pertuisane

S'abreuve de sang !


Croyez-en l'oracle

Des corbeaux passants,

Et le grand miracle

Des Saints-Innocents.

A nos cris de guerre

On a vu naguère,

Malgré les chaleurs,

Surgir une branche

D'aubépine franche

Couverte de fleurs !


Honni qui pardonne !

Allez sans effroi,

C'est Dieu qui l'ordonne,

C'est Dieu, c'est le roi !

Le crime s'expie ;

Plongez à l'impie

Le fer au côté

Jusqu'à la poignée ;

Saignez ! la saignée

Est bonne en été ! »


V


Aux fenêtres du Louvre, on voyait le roi. « Tue,

Par la mort Dieu ! que l'hydre enfin soit abattue !

Qu'est-ce ? Ils veulent gagner le faubourg Saint-Germain ?

J'y mets empêchement : et, si je ne m'abuse,

Ce coup est bien au droit. - George, une autre arquebuse,

Et tenez toujours prête une mèche à la main.


Allons, tout va bien : Tue ! - Ah. Cadet de Lorraine,

Allez-vous-en quérir les filles de la reine.

Voici Dupont, que vient d'abattre un Écossais :

Vous savez son affaire ? Aussi bien, par la messe,

Le cas était douteux, et je vous fais promesse

Qu'elles auront plaisir à juger le procès.


Je sais comment la meute en plaine est gouvernée ;

Comment il faut chasser, en quel temps de l'année.

Aux perdrix, aux faisans, aux geais, aux étourneaux ;

Comment on doit forcer la fauve en son repaire ;

Mais je n'ai point songé, par l'âme de mon père,

A mettre en mon traité la chasse aux huguenots ! »
 40° 
mariel
To all the nights you have been awake,
ocean of thoughts drown you
down to the darkest part.
You keep reaching for the surface,
the last thing you know
breathing became hard.
 40° 
Verdant Quo
like water
I poured myself into her until she was overflowing at the brim

like reinforced steel
I bridged my heart to hers and welded myself to her soul

like the sun
I filled myself with light to cover her darkness

like a blanket
I shielded her from the harsh world underneath the covers

like magnets
I orbited her aura until we inevitably collided

like a seed
I felt myself growing up from her

Then, like an idiot
I could tell she felt nothing.
 39° 
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)
 38° 
John MacAyeal
On the skywalk

I saw
Two men greet
Each other with smiles
On the crosswalk

I saw
A young man and young woman
Holding hands
On the sidewalk

I saw
An old man
Cradling a baby girl
On the boardwalk

I broke
From my pause
On the skywalk
 37° 
loveless
And over time,
My pen stopped bleeding
But my heart didn't
 37° 
Hasani
13.7 Billion years
yet we are here

Celestial beings
floating in a cosmic stream
everyday is a miracle
sorta like a dream

We are mere specks
on God's spectacles

Caught in a bind
we are figures
in the creator's mind

Until the day I die,
I will forever cherish my existence,
because given the odds,
I shouldn't be breathing.
 34° 
onlylovepoetry
you can’t right the same poem twice

hell, yes I can
in pointy fact,
only got one,
which gets re-righted
morning noon and evening-tide

substitute a variant spelling
wright vs write vs right
and the meaning changes thrice

the only thing i can’t not duplicate is those **** love poems
each unique and writ for the woman specific,
each love one, custom jiggered,
each poem, crafted, to her pulse
each drafted, to her scent
none alike, and that’s why I believe
in the god who commanded "create him"
to make love poems in his way,
gave me millions of veins
of inspiration to pray to...
my heart altered, modified, daily


**** poems
**** love poems
**** love
2/2/2018   10:14pm
 34° 
Emily
i never used to smoke
but since you left,
it’s the only time i can seem to breathe
 33° 
Aasiyah
I'm not so starry-eyed
I don't have such a open mind

Send me to bed

I see blue and yellow
I must be color blind

I see the stars
I know they aren't real
I haven't been outside

And no dreams
I just wake up from sleep
But I'm still tired
I roam in my nightmares

Send me to bed
Send me to sleep

I don't cry as much
I must have been drowned
In all my sorrow

Today is the same as tomorrow
And it will continue on
Until the days are final
I won't be happy
Even in my end
I'll probably be the same
And you won't know my name

Send me to bed
 33° 
the black-rose
she’s too strong,
she’s too much,
she’s too tough to love.

she’s too hard,
she’s too broken,
she’s not enough.

she’s imperfect,
she’s wild,
she’s lost in the wind.
she’s insane,
sending signs of chaos from within.
-
hi.
 32° 
Tyler A Sullivan
Have I not written a single sincere line,
Before, it all came with effort forced
Or, in absence of one that could endorse
These sentiments given-free of mine.
But now i believe that I could speak free
And be listened to with full attention,
And it is no doubt my every intention
To return the favour of her gifted glee.
If i must sleep then i must die,
But to spend an evening ever repining
When before me this lovey sun is shining
Begs to question the very reason why.
Be still you fool, my heart of mine
It is with a purpose we are here
To live in the living present
With the ones you love near.

...

And when I am a nerve .
Bare and vulnerable
With words serve
A felling comfortable
You're of a like to me
And I myself in you
Guide me make me see
For me it's all so new
I feel your presence
Like the temperate breeze
A flower blooming in pleasance
Opening with ease.
I could spend hours
Amongst this flower
My head so far above
There is no power
In which we should cower
For all we need is love

...

Oh, Light up the moon my love
Light up the moon and see
That all heavenly bodies
Exist in reflection of thee

Oh, raise the dawn my darling
Raise  the dawn and find
That all these insecurities
Exist only in the mind

Oh, stay strong my sweet
Stay strong today
My love I give to thee
In all charitable ways

Not words nor actions
Could adequately display
The love I feel
Each and every day

So light up the moon my love
Raise the dawn and see
That you are my universe
Containing all things dear to me
...

I could have a platue of green pastures
On the loftiest of mounts
But I would be in her company
In liue of golden founts
And if it is she went away
I'd mark the time with bated breath
And if it surpassed but a day
I'd mark me empty with nothing left
I could praise in all convieable ways
The beauty of which she possess
But it would all pale and certainly fail
From what reality undresses
Have not worry nor restrain
But take comfort here in my embrace
I Feel not doubt or pain
When I look upon your face
I could stay awhile and with a smile
Forget these worlds of ours
And how he mocks the minding clock
Chiming upon the hours.
Other lovers swinging with their fist
With a waton force
But by chance they miss
And find purchase in remorse
But our hands are not for violence
But for caring touches
And if one of us were beaten
We'll be the others crutches
...

I've seen some love fail hard and soft
From a scratch or a killing blow
And some may casually  scoff
When i say mines aloft and theirs not so.
They'll call me a naive fool
And bound to fall,
I'll respond in certainty
That our love conquers all.
Her happiness, her happiness,
It happens to be,
The greatest thing
That matters to me.
To see them eyes the least bit teary
What a constant fear!
I'll strive until i grow, grow ever weary
To dry the smallest tear.
She brings me elation
With the selfsame caring heat
The sun brings to everything
Underneath his celestial seat
I have not lived until i loved;
Not like a child in apprehension,
But one the comes with reassurance
And with the purest of intentions.
I’ve had some moments
Of lasting regret
But in this moment
I do not fret.
It comes easy
When we speak
And my passion here
Is never meek
I'll love you
To the very end
Whether as a darling
Or a friend.
 31° 
Max Asher
You know what’s worse
than loving your best friend?
Losing them because of it.
November 28, 2018
 31° 
moon child
It seems
These days
I fill my time
With as much
M I N D L E S S N E S S
As I
Possibly
Can
 31° 
Steve Page
Truth twisted or truth told?
Collusion or collaboration?
Who can tell what lies beneath:
Politician or statesman?
We need statesmen (women)
 31° 
Jessica S
Every sip I take
Every bad choice I make
Nothing makes me forget
That every single time
..
I break
 31° 
leah
I’m not scared I won’t fall in love again,
I’m scared that I won’t love him as much
as I loved you.

- Leah
Or maybe it will be a different kind of love? I guess I’ll find out one day.
 30° 
Malina
it's as close as i can get

but seeing you
your smile
your eyes
just you

you rip through me
and the longing i feel makes my heart swell
and sink
down to the floor
and i need you here

it's not close enough
feeling very lonely at the minute and i miss him more than ever
 30° 
Chris Saitta
Mothers come gently to our rooms, the sunset kiss on the forehead,
Woven homilies from their baskets of forgiveness and spools of yarn.

But for the grave, this heart its coiled sunset unspools, so long entwined
In woods and seas that redden now into the soul of all sunsets combined.
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