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 570° 
The Foody One
What am I?
I do not know;
This thing inside
is beating, though.
I am aware my love
that in today's situation
we must distance ourselves
away from the world
But never from ours

You may not be the first one I see
every morning
but I always remember
Your fingers through my coffee mug handle
and your lips
Hi boo
 183° 
Tapiwa Mesah
A flower blossoms
In the midst of muddy swamps
It stands around the algae,
The petals smile even at the bees.

The grin of the little seeds
That the wind blows effortlessly,
Is sprayed to places and places
And preaches love and nothing else.
 180° 
michaela
I cannot compose brilliant poems, sonnets, or verses,

and I cannot speak to you in Latin or Greek;

I cannot move you with any language made up by man.

Love is the only only language I could touch you with

If you only knew how much I could love you.

If you knew I love you;

If I were brave enough to tell you at all.
 121° 
Samantha Cunha
stars dizzy my
melting mind as
the ground fails
to tether me
to the earth

Half in the earth
half in the ethers
never quite
here nor there
nor anywhere
 109° 
Paper Heart Poet
Bill strangles their neck  
Barcodes are their language
Dollar signs in their pupils
Chasing the digital and physical
Money like it’s their long lost love
 100° 
Rupert Pippingford
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.
Tonight we fell
asleep
with our legs
wrapped
around each other;
we
didn't toss and
turn
in bed all
night.
 94° 
Ammar Younas
Night sits on my chest
Squeezes poems out of me
And grinds my poor soul
 91° 
Aryan Sam
Hi
Years ago
We stayed up till
3 am talking,
And today
I don’t even know
How to say hi,
 89° 
Samantha
Noting changes.
Nothing grows.

Empty highs.
Empty lows.

I can't feel the warm,
And I can't feel the cold.

You try to make me happy,
And I try just for you.
But other than our trying,
Nothing else is new.

I worry I'll upset you,
If I can't make a change.
It's not fair of me,
To make you stay the same.
Don't let me drag you down with me.
 88° 
Mrs Anybody
is it just me
or does
everything at night
seem more intensive?

the music
hits your feelings
way harder

the thoughts
scream louder
in your head

the world
is almost
completely silent


the world
seems just so
much purer
also check out my other poems!  :)
 80° 
Regan Wylde
I’m so tired, exhausted in fact.
Tired of waiting.
Tired of feeling.
Tired of believing.

I wish I could sleep through it all.
Dream through the hurt.
Dream through the time.
Dream through the numbness.

But I can’t sleep.
Even if I could, I’d still be tired of living.
Just a quick message, I’m unsure to who is disliking all the comments of this poem but I can assure you I like every comment, thank you all for such kind words and constructive criticism. #ignorethehate ❤️
 79° 
julianna
Monsters don’t exist
Still, we are very afraid
Because we made them
Monsters. A concept so often used to represent anything dislikable to society, which we are afraid of. Yet literal monsters don’t exist.
 79° 
Tess
I never thought I'd matter
To anyone

Until you
Came along

And changed my perspective
Of the universe

You made me feel
Like I matter

And I'm grateful
For you.
 77° 
Mark Wanless
I was desiring something
what I got was
an empty cigarette
 75° 
Woody
You know
I don’t know
if I’m just tired
of it all
or getting old
or both
my ribs feel
like a prison
for these feelings
I’m feeling
and sleep
is a hangman
who ties
a black cloth
over my eyes
so quiet and soft
like around about
midnight.
 72° 
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)
 71° 
ethan gaskill
i keep waking up
with you on my lips
but it's only your name
and not your kiss
screaming your name at night in my sleep
 69° 
Maja
Save me if you must.
Love me if you dare.
Turn me into dust.
Leave me if you care.
A short poem about something.
What is still not certain. But then again, is anything?
 68° 
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
 66° 
Jason James
You were a good friend
To my *****
But you were cruel to my heart.

He misses you
But I don't.
 62° 
Shiny
So what?
If you don't like me
I like myself just alright,
Just alright to go on.

So what?
If you turn me down
I will go on living,
Writing more stories.

I just wanna be more.
I wanna live a little more.
I wanna explore a bit more.
I'll love myself a little more
To make it all fine for me.
 62° 
parker
mom
stop it
just stop
please stop talking
i'm tired of talking about this
i'm tired of your excuses
listen to me
listen to me
stop talking
stop talking please
i'm trying so hard
please
stop
talking
why won't you ever listen to me
you push me this far
you push me so far
you push me
you put me here
and you can't take it back
 60° 
Ara
I spilled some blood on the bathroom floor, mama,
But I swear it was an accident.
See, my hand slipped across porcelain, mama;
My skin tore like satin.

The paint flowed like a river then, mama,
And colored me a crimson sunset.
Oh, but it made such a mess, mama,
And I know messes make you upset.

So close your eyes, mama,
'Cause you're weeping red and the tears might stain.
Red for your lost love and red for scarlet fire,
and red for the young rose cut from the briar.

Maybe now I could be poetry, mama
The type you wrote about in your younger days.
Golden sun swallowed in carmine, mama
With its last rays dying in a blaze.
Trigger warning: self harm/suicide implied.
Copyright © 2019 Aranza V. Soto Torres. All rights reserved.
 56° 
chris
the bird I saw at the water park
that bird flew so freely
it seemed so happy to me
because it has wings that I don't have

it is able to go anywhere it wants to go
but that bird is very lonely,  
because it's flying after departing its mother

the bird I saw at the water park
the bird I saw at the playground
the bird I saw on the plane

the bird that was always alone, will fly
freely to find friends
it's not lonely anymore as it flies together

hey, bird bird bird bird

the bird that was always alone, will fly
freely to find friends
it's not lonely anymore as it flies together

hey, bird bird bird bird
 53° 
Aasiyah
breathing alive
seeing through different windows

all of them
i could die
looking at the reflection
and the height
of the fall
makes me feel
like im not tall

in a world
im so small
im nothing at all

taking my breaths
feels like my life is death
oh no
oh no
irony has filled my head

im not dead
im not dead
i still do all these things
but now i am desperate
i want my wings
 53° 
Classy J
You can put on your best face,
You can put on your best smile,
You can laugh really hard,
You can tell jokes all day long,
But yet still be broken inside.
But yet still feel lonely.
But yet still be feeling depression.

You can put on all the make up you want.
But unable to fully cover up all the scars or bruises.
You can climb the highest mountains,
Yet your soul can still be trapped in the valley.

The say fake it till you make it.
But you can fake it all your life and never make it.
You can look like your blessed,
Yet feel miserable and cursed.

Never judge books by their covers.
 52° 
Z
i'll always remember
your last goodbye.

and i'll always love you,
after all this time.
 52° 
Heather
Schrodinger and I are good friends
We have tea
Quite frequently
 48° 
Sunstrike
When butterflies fall in love, do they feel humans in their stomach?
 45° 
Micah G
Why
Can I give a girl anything  
Except what she wants
 45° 
Zhanara
I am an artist
I draw my life.
I am a teacher
I teach my steps.
I am a doctor
I treat my destiny.
I am a lawyer
I judge my actions.
I am a builder
I build my success.
I am a translator
I translate my opinion.
I am a  photographer
I take  my memories.
I am a writer
I write my future.
I am a chef
I cook my mood.
I am a businesswoman
I manage myself.
18/11/2018
 43° 
Marsha
to me,
you are
an art

                              to you,
                              I was
                              a tragedy
you still remain, and will always be
a fine piece of art
to me.
// edit: thank you for having this in the daily. ♡
 42° 
Pradip singh
Life is a game of fate
But never ever lose faith
These was the two lines extracted from my poem and I hope I would upload the full poem in coming days
 40° 
Felicity Paris
I will say
I do not love you
until my mouth forgets your taste

I will write
I do not love you
until my fingers forget
how your hands feel, wrapped in mine
and my poems no longer
reek of sadness and desperation

I will believe
I do not love you
until it becomes impossible
or until I begin
to love someone new
 37° 
Deanna
when ever i hear your name
my heart instantly
sinks
to the bottom of a
sea.
 37° 
Donall Dempsey
I LIKE TO SAY YOUR NAME

I like to say
your name

when you're
not here

turn you
into sound

conjure you out of
thin air

so that you appear
before me

dressed in sound
only

memory sketching in
the rest of you

as if sound
was just an outline

and love
colours you in

adding the voice last
so I can hear you say.

"Hello you..!"
and there you are

as present
as present

can be.

I like to say
your name

when you're
not there.
 37° 
Keara Marie
2 in the morning my mind is on you.
4 in the morning and it still hasn't moved.
 37° 
Simpleton
Love didn't end wars
It started them
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