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They say we are a mistake
A blot in history
A disaster waiting to happen
They say we are cursed
That we will never work
They say
They say
They say
They sa
They s
A book with several chapters,
Some sad,
Some happy,
Some adventurous,
And each chapter holds
And these memories makes this book more amazing.
May you persevere in matters of your heart
Immerse yourself in what you need to feel alive

May you press onwards even when you’d rather sink and

May you grow towards the sky just like the flowers you find that root themselves in the most precarious places but still manage to find the sun
Sophia L
I love myself more.
"Hey, I worry that                    
music's our only shared thing."    
            "It's fine. That's enough"

       III                                        III
         III                                        III
           III                                        III
             III                                        III
               III                                        III
          IIIIIIIII                                IIIIIIIII
      IIIIIIIIIIIIIII                        IIIIIIIIIIIIIII
         IIIIIIIII                                 IIIIIIIII
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East Wind
Collections of my disorderly thoughts
gathered together with knots
of my ample desire
to make sense of my everyday life.
I write poetry, however bad they might be, to help me analyze my feelings.
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)
we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections
Dream in words and lines
They marinate
Black and white
Colors unimagined or named
The words awaken us and accomplish their feat
Do we dream verses?
Do they talk with us as if to say Write me down?
Record me
Take me to a higher level
Your fault if you forget
Sculpt me and find a fresh new way with me
My forever friend
Somehow you will accompany me now and forever more
So it goes and continues
Anatomy of a poem

Somewhere amidst the mess
We kept ourselves afloat
We played house
We moved in
We fought
We joked
And I look back at it
The same way
You watch destruction
And flames
I see it now with an unhealthy
And an upsetting amount of fear
You were all I had
And you were never even here
You are my unsent message.
The cursor blinking rhythmically,
With my heartbeat,
For me to hit send.
But I am not ready,
And I’m not sure if I ever will be
So I left it like that.
Unsent. Unseen. Unread.
“I miss you.”
You messaged me today
I listened to what you had to say
My heart didn't hurt
You didn't try to flirt
You apologized to me
And said you'd like to see...
You'd like to see me and catch up
I said okay
I could talk to you today
Is this healing
Because I have no feeling
I have no feelings left for you

As the night turned it’s hands ticking time

I slowed down in my head, drinks abound,

music loud and my friends newly found

paid for beers while she danced.

Curves like those, to explore a nighttime

of hard touches and kisses.

And I drank one more beer, what a chance

could I have with a woman like that?

Then a look and a smile, my bloodstream

rushing fast in a heartbeat of dreams

getting lost in that smile, skipping love,

for a night of hard touches and kisses.

In nights middle, somewhere deep in black
I wake fighting off nameless foes
faces grim with determined violence
we grapple and punch each others shadow
my pillow taking my aimed blows
-someone behind me, out of sight
not quite there, not quite not.
Mitch Prax
Arriving in Vienna
with a broken heart and
no place to place to go.
I wander the empty streets-
it's almost midnight and I
am in search of a distraction.
A bottle of wine later and
some good company by my side,
I think I might be alright.
It's one sleep 'til the new year and
I think I might be alright.
I talk behind these closed curtains
Where tears echo to the sound of it’s drop
And every silent gasp you hardly maintain
behind every curtain
Is a smile exhausted
And i don’t watch from the audience
I stay behind curtains
Behind your burdens i see
Eyes are the window to the soul,

But what if,

You don't have one of those?
going home isn’t always
returning to a place.
it is returning to yourself.
You once asked me if I could ever describe you in four words, what they would be.
I finally figured it out.
"control c, control v"
i know letters aren't words but ohhhhh weelllll (:
Michael John
doctor,as my guitar
will add
melancholia is madness
waiting to occur-
it needs to be snipped
in the bud but
nothing only
may require
a flower might
want water
know what i mean
babbling will not
heal or pills neither
love unrequited
we must pay
or else
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.
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
Dear past self.
If you read this, you might realize that you have been through a lot of difficult things.
Look at yourself in front of the mirror so you could see yourself that has grown into a strong person.
You might have gone through so much pain and scars that you are no longer trying to cover up.
You have had enough and even more than enough.
Let time give you a chance to meet with happiness so you can see that the world is full of beautiful people.
Let them surround you, fill your days with meaning, and drive away your loneliness.
Let them be proud of who you are now.
You are extraordinary.
Indonesia, 21st September 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
I want to spin
Myself into a
Just to
Because without the storm, how would you know what calm is?
Lady Ravenhill
"It's pointless," said reason.
"It's too risky," said experience.
"It's not possible," said pride.
"Please try," whispered my heart.
LadyRavenhill 2021
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Time goes by
And I miss you

Just like me
The flowers grew
But soon they wilted
Just like you

You were sweet
This I knew
Like an addiction
I loved you

Now the roses are dead
The violets are too
The garden's all gone
And so are you

Your flowers died
I did too
Because all along
I was you
I wrote this a while ago when I had a crush on someone and it was literally crushing me. This is pretty metaphorical, but it also has a bit of literal meaning. It's a mixture of my feelings towards the person I liked and how I felt towards myself at the time.
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.
memoona kazmi
i want to hug you the way,
winnie the pooh hugs the piglet
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

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
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.
My mind thinks of the worst things I could do to you
The worst person I've ever met
With your slander
And lies
I could destroy you
And I want to
But I won't
Because then I become you
And I could never forgive myself for that.
I hate this person so much. With a burning passion all I want is to see them fall. But i know that is not the way to think if I want to be the bigger person. Its so hard to forgive when they don't think they need forgiveness.
Mar Orellana
I know you won’t read this
and I know you won’t care
but I will tell you what it was like.

It was blurry.
it was slow
but time was running fast.
It was dusty feet
and dusty souls.
It was feeling nothing
and then all at once.
It was hating you
to drown the urge of hugging you.
It was writing a poem
and post it
wishing you will relate to it.

But who cares,
you don’t.
May 2017.
I wrote this instead of telling you, even though you were there, dancing next to me. And we were made out of poison, finding new ways to hurt each other.
Satisfaction i crave
From a relieving blade
Replaced by the temporary
dopamine wave
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

No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

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
You say
life is

I say
that’s the only way
you can give it your own
Cherisse May
test me
my waters have remained constant
rippling, reaching
as far as the eye can see
into the horizon; the water surrounds me
my knowledge is useless
when drowning in these waters;
i can only flail desperately
as my movements create ripples
out into the open sea
all these efforts
all in vain
all in my vein
blood rushing out
like the sea, light then heavy
then strong
like the sea, with a strong smell of salt
this time, the waters are red
and they reek of iron

test my waters
they’ve been stained crimson
with my lifeline
exam week got me in a bad light
Sonja G N Woods
You are a flower
Far too beautiful for me to pluck
I will come to your site everyday
Just to adore your sight
I'll leave you in your natural habitat
I cherish you
But I won't be selfish
I'll leave you for others to behold also
Utmostly, I want what's best for you
When you cherish something, don't destroy it in an attempt to make it yours!
So many poems
and stories
have gone unwritten
due to fear of not being good enough
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