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 720° 
Jason Saguinsin
I'm trying to contain
the entire galaxy in my mind;
but with you,
the stars and planets align
and thoughts just spill out unknowingly.
 674° 
Kolour Fabriken
after i've watched
the short hand slip into sunday
your last hymn sung to the soup
glistening in the fires of your ritual
might you drop your linens
so I may take for myself
a strawberry
bathed in sudor

------

après avoir regardé
la courte main glisser dans le dimanche
ton dernier hymne chanté à la soupe
scintillant dans les feux de votre rituel
pourriez-vous enlever vos draps
donc je peux prendre pour moi
une fraise
baigné de sudor
 610° 
Harriet Shea

You fought for our country brave
and strong, you gave your all the
best you could.

You prayed so hard I felt your tears
when blood soaked in the dry hard
ground.

You called for help the angels came
with brilliant confidence, they gave you
strength to finish your fight.

You  fight the war now within yourself
to try to make people understand that
love comes from deep, not from the
depths of darkness, so easy to follow.

You will always be a brave young man
in the hearts of all men and women of
America, the home of the free and the
brave.

Thank you for your protection to all our
fighting men and woman and those who
have laid down their lives for America.

**********

“God Bless America”



By Derena
© 2018 Derena (All rights reserved)
 510° 
Mslee
I felt your presence
Your silent footsteps
Still I heard
You seemed uncertain
Not sure if it was okay
My back somehow turned anxious
I don't know if you felt it
I stayed the way I was
Not turning my head

I waited
And you stepped sideways
Away from me
For a while
As if gauging
If I would be accomodating
You saw me flip a hair
Talk back to someone else
Not caring one bit
If you were there

Now you started to walk
Rounding a pillar
Straight to my line of vision
You made your presence known
I looked at you
Casually speaking your name
You looked at me
In the eye
Did you see something?
Was there a telltale sign
That I was anxious as you
Like we were in a fight
And now contemplating reconcillation

Laughing inside
Yeah..we were fools
Engaging in silent war
Ignore..reject..
As if testing who will hold
Power between us
I smirk...
I knew it
You would not be able to hold on
You will succumb
I am your temptation
Someone you could not easily dismiss
However you wanted

In the end
Triumphantly
I won.

This game of me and you
I wonder when will this end?
 397° 
laura-jessica
sometimes i scare myself so bad,

i want to runaway from my own mind.
 380° 
Praggya Joshi
Remember that old uphill trail
We used to meander along
With matching footsteps
Under the sunlit canopy of leaves
Carving words for each other
On the bark of aged trees
Who may have known
what would become of us
But nevertheless smiled
acted as a blank canvas instead
And watched the moments
Filled with playful laughter
Peachy smiles
Lingering gaze
Warm caress
Unfold lazily between us
The winds of time
May have blown us miles apart
Our footprints may have long eroded
That sunlit canopy may have withered
And we may walk that trail
Only in our dreams
But those words are yet to fade
they were the voice of our soul
Etched into the lap of nature
And as I run my fingers along its rugged edges
I reminisce about you
And hope that wherever you are
You are thinking about me too
 312° 
Ryan Rivière
is olfactory-pleasant
         is complacent-present
               is scented, has yet
       been told

he is beautiful -

Aristotle                      the sager
                                     the wager
   says
            that the subject of man

is woman
              grammar, phonics, say that would

        therefore           make woman object.

no. no. this argument
    
           old as Napoleon boned-apart &&
his      septic       "art"
  
    of war

                      pretending Sun Tzu is not laughing
                      does not mean Sun Tzu is not laughing

but Aristotle also says the beautiful one is whom will possess beautiful things
                                                                ­         yawn-yawn,
        philosophy yo-yo walk-the-dog
guy,
          who is surely to have had a hand
                                               writing-out

and up the toga

     though calling a squared-shouldered man

                  beautiful

illumines the palate        of the palpitating
   XY heart

                    and then neutralizes

shaken sediment preserving murky mud-marmalade

      && then the beautiful boy
can call the other boy beautiful

        subject/object incensed

                            but no longer breathing

confiture brackish seabed
               supper
                                 no longer needing gills,

           enjoying the smell

of beatific boy breath
                                                   && greying at the same time
                                                   && sharing clothes functionally
                             && feeling sentiment for

Aristotle was outsider
             born in two times

                                                one as child in Stagira  
                                                dead as man in Chalcis

         greece had time to think
too much time to think
            to not enchant the embrace
                              && togas are easier to share than
    Levis.
 307° 
Vacuous
Seeing you,
is like seeing the sun rise for the first time,
and when the sun decides to set and night is brought forth,
I find that I miss and long for you;
but once night begins to fade
and your beauty shines back into my eyes
a childlike gaze breaks upon my face.
You...
are amazing.
As if anything I had ever fantasized could be
rolled up into one singular being,
you had come from out of nowhere and became my everything.
When I fell in love with you,
we were cuddled up on the couch watching Netflix,
and I don't think I have ever had such a moment of bliss
than when you had rested your head on my chest while petting your dog.
That moment was an eternity of happiness and a wave of calmness I have never felt.
I would let my soul be ripped limb from limb just to relive that moment with you for a second more.
I hope our future memories to come are just as beautiful as you are.
 289° 
Dakota L
This time I can’t fix it. I shut myself away in the bathroom and looked right back at myself in the mirror. Go on and cry, monster. My face crunched, eyes squinted, shoulders rolled, and tears wet a path down my hideous, acne diseased face. You deserve this. This pain is soul wrenching and I feel myself fall to ruin beneath it.
 250° 
Sarah Levene
Loneliness
Was never a stranger of mine
Before I met you
And Is no longer a stranger of mine again
Whenever I am not with you
Who knew
That shed come back for me
When you have yours turned to mine
Yes, I know you’re only sleeping
But my mind can’t help but to wonder where you’ve gone
If you’ve wandered off to somewhere,
Someone,
Better than I
I will not cry over my loss of your touch
I will only lament my heart’s feeling of fullness when I feel your hand on mine
Because without it,
Sometimes,
I can’t help but consider why it isn’t there
Only to find 12 hours later to be in your grasp once again.
My dear lover,
Where have you been?
My thoughts have been racing,
And my heart’s been akin
To a post apocalyptic wasteland
Devoid of all life.
But, never mind my temporary strife
Because with my palm feeling your heart’s beat,
And my lips feeling your warmth
I know no one’s torn you away from me
And that sleep
Is the only thing
Keeping us apart.
Bryan has insomnia, and is always the one left alone when I fall asleep on him. I now know how it feels, and the loneliness is killing me. After spending this past Friday-Tuesday in his arms, i want nothing more than to be in them once again.
 230° 
Icarus M
"To ruin,"
she cried.
As her thoughts condensed and curdled
like souring milk.

"To giving up,"
she thought.
As her mind twisted
into the gnarled roots
of ancient tree.

"To death,"
she muttered.
Speaking to the reflection of herself.
As the pond's surface rippled
with every stone she threw.
Sending shivers through her chest,
as she gasped,
"Too late."

And her eyes watched as
up
from a deadened log
to a branch
that snapped
as upward
and she wished she
had said
"I love you,"
before he flew away.
 230° 
David Abraham
Do you remember all the times you said you hate me?
Do you remember all those times you said you didn't care?

Mama, I promise I'll do better.
I'm quite sorry, or don't you see?
Mama, I promise this is the last time
that I make you so mad we lose our hair.
Mama, I promise I'll be more like my sisters,
and I'll be everything you want.
Mama, I promise I've always been here.
You're putting this all out on your kids.
Now, how is that fair?
Mama, I hate this way that we live.

Mama, I always hear you.
I hear you saying,
"You're a monster;
there's not enough going on in your head to distract you!
You're such a bastard."
I feel wrong saying you abuse this family,
especially since others have it worse,
but now I hear everyone saying it,
so I admit it at least a little bit.

Mama, I'm calling him Isaac,
and I'm calling myself David.
I'll never come out to you,
because you're just that predictable
that I know just what you'd do.

Hear the proclamation of Isaac,
everyone we know who knows you thinks you're insane.
Hear the proclamation of Isaac,
people are offering to call someone on you
and take us away.
Hear the proclamation of Isaac,
we know you cannot change,
but it doesn't redeem you.
5 23 2018
I feel sick in my stomach and my throat at the thought that my mother could one day hear these words from my throat. ... I'm very caught up and tied in some struggles with my mother.
 224° 
Liv
when a poet falls in love with you
you can never die
they will notice the way
you rub your palms and look down
when someone is angry at you
and the way you smirk
as you pull away from a kiss

they will notice how you can't sleep
without your body touching someone else's
how you never crease any pages of books
and how you close your eyes when you dance in your kitchen
with your record player on

they will find all of the words
that they see you as
and turn them into something beautiful

people say you die twice
once when you stop breathing
and when someone says your name
for the last time

if you fall in love a poet
they will never stop
mentioning your name
you will be alive
for eternity
I walk to school every day
And every day I go the very same way
Today I thought I’d try something new
The grass was so green and the sky so blue.

So I walked through the trees
so I could smell the sweet breeze
As I got farther in the wood
Things got stranger than they ever could.

A little white rabbit stopped to ask me the date
And cursed as it ran off saying I’m late I’m late
A pink cat that seemed to disappear
Told me that I was ever so near.
On the ground was a deck of cards
The queen surrounded by all her guards.

“Time” A mad hatter asked
But I was too focused on my task
In the distance I heard a beeping sound
But saw nothing when I turned around
I felt someone poking me in the head
And awoke to realize I was still in bed.
A child's poem
 188° 
imissyeats
i never knew before what such a thing felt like
but you have made me feel it and feel it all around
sometimes i am on cloud nine but then sadness takes over
sometimes i wish to tell you everything but then i can't say a word
sometimes i want to give up on this love but then i fail and fail again

i never knew before how much you would seep into my life
but now i have seen it and i certainly haven't seen it all
you're the lump in my throat holding back all the words i never said
you're the long walk i take every night brooding over the sweetness and sorrow
you're everything that makes me vulnerable and powerful at the same time
 171° 
Helena
like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you came to me
gently,
with the soothing voice
of a sweaty spring
thank you, old friend
for being able to be
dark enough to see
the hidden light
in me

i will not go into the times we shared
asphyxia and summer air
juxtaposed to form
an inseparable pair

who am I, old friend
when the ship´s horn blares
if you made me who I am
(if you made me scarce)

like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you left me
softly, without
any warning of
the lack of color
(there would be)
without your splendor
(the one where my best friend is leaving to Singapur)
 168° 
Sara Brummer
Thick, invisible threads, the spider holds the heart,
The butterfly attending to her flowers,
The bite of the bee – harsh gesture of tenderness,
Bat’s sensitive hearing gear pitched high,
Lizard’s tongue testing for vanilla air,
A love lark singing to a star.

But this is monkey love, dexterity
Of opposable thumbs, naughtiness
Of stolen kisses, sharp claws
Cutting the heart’s cords,
Hungry munching of the skin’s
Softest zones, push and pull
Of sentiments, sometimes upwards
Towards cotton clouds, sometimes
Downwards towards the earth’s
Rocky surface.

And always chattering nonsense,
Understood only by the two of us.
 165° 
jaded clouds
My hometown
Quaint
Quiet
and Questionable.
It holds dirty ass secrets that are great at being hidden and never found out.
Is it a small town that has the issues because of the
Lack
Of education?
Or because of the lack of love and attention it deserves?

Weird shit happens in small towns and those instances are
brushed under the dirty porch rug,
buried under the molded picnic table, burned in the middle of the woods, in a cluster fuck brush pile.

Despite the hidden atrocities, there are some pieces added to this weird back woods puzzle that are quaint.
Driving to your mamaw and pops  house for a southern supper.
Front porch sitting shooting the shit.
picking blackberries along the river.

Terrible  happenings are indeed kept quiet in places like this.
Drugs,  alcohol, rape, prostitution, molestation.
It’s all real and prevelent and it’s a god damn shame for something so beautiful to be patronized by such neighbors, uncles, friends, sisters, cousins...
look around and you will see those struggling through the ignorance in their own blinded way.
Questionable people and questionable actions.

Quiet summertime nights spent on plush sod,
Staring,
into the night skies admiring such a show.
Quiet foggy Saturday mornings
alone
In the woods indulging in ramp digging and morel hunting. Quiet days below the surface of that freshly mounded soil...
Secrets buried with you.
Growing up in a small town you see things, hear things, experience things, and try to push it all to the back of your brain. Good comes with bad and vice verse
 156° 
SAM
Now
They were beautiful
When they smiled
The way they admired one another
Hands seattled on one another
They were beautiful
They did everything together
The way one missed the other
The way one loved the other
They loved deep
They cried deeper
They fought deeply
But still beautiful through it all
Both Complimented one another
Standing side by side
They didnt have no worries
They didnt feel alone
They were growing
They had what everyone was looking for
They were beautiful
The way they care for one another
The way they thought about one another
You couldnt see
But feel how they felt about one another
They were beautiful
But not as beautiful as they were yesterday
Not as beautiful as they will be the next day
And not as beautiful as they couldve been now
 141° 
Liv
when i was 7 i cracked my head open with glass
and blood covered my head
i didn't go to the hospital
i didn't even tell anyone

i never saw the glass really coming
it happened in just a split second
i hardly even felt it
it stung
but i was too worried about the glass
and how i was going to clean it
before my parents came home
my mom always liked to keep her house clean
so i had to pick it up

when i was 13
my best friend had her first heartbreak
i was doing homework
because i was so behind
but she called me crying
and asked if she could come over
i held her for two hours
while she sobbed into my sweatshirt
and when she left
i didn't even get a thank you

i try so hard to make everyone feel content and happy
then sit in my room
and wonder why i'm so sad
but it's because
all i do is bleed for people
and they never even hand me a bandaid
 134° 
Kwamé
Caught you running through my mind
But I warn you,
It's a dangerous place to get lost in
I see you watching me
My eyes got you in a
Trance
But before you look away
I ask you
Would you leave your secrets
In the palm of my hand?
 128° 
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.
 113° 
Adrian Newman
I am the most reserved of my fae folk
Time accompanies my many youthful wanderings
Tending to the blooms scattered over misty hills
Overshadowed by my protective, brotherly trees.

I’m walking through the lane that divides them
Surrounding my aura on all sides
I let the sun filter through vibrant leaves
As I touch them with the sombre kiss of rain.

My wings glint gossamer in dewy threads
And my skirt skips a beat in the afternoon breeze.
My hair floats around my head like a veil
As I leap to fly yonder over reminiscent childhood fields.

My essence dances amongst the clouds
It is my truest, constant loving friend
I breathe every carefree day with the promise
That it will taint every flower a more brilliant hue.

My eyes witness a lingering, enticing sunset
I’m free to follow its enchantment until I reach my home
And as I close the willow door behind me
I draw the blinds and settle into the embrace of slumber.

23rd May 2017
The alternative title for this poem is A Day Of The Rain Fae as this poem is about how I feel as if I'm the Rain Fae in my imagination.
I've always wanted to be a faerie since a young age, and read many poems describing the appearances and lives of those in Faerie or Faeland. Such a place is great to escape to if one ever gets the opportunity to do so.
I hope you enjoy this imaginative and personal piece <3
 109° 
Anthropos
And so it begins
With a sparrow perched on a limb
The birth of a golden dawn

In that genesis
A new beginning with the rising sun
So is life like this
Small bird in a tree that for a brief moment

Rests in between heaven
And the earth below
In a single breath
With the flutter of wings
It has vanished
As if by strange magic
Never to be seen again

No one can say where the soul
Goes when it departs
Or if it will ever return
Only that once, it was here
But now it is not
 106° 
Lawrence Hall
We do not burn books in America
We just ignore them, for we light our nights
And burn away our individual souls
Upon an altar green, clean plastic grass

Come together as one unto the lights
The concept of the tablets now writ large
An electronic scoreboard – and if we’re good
We’ll see our snaggly grins all ten feet tall

Eighty-thousand dollars of education
Beaming civilization six nights each year
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com – it’s not really reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
 101° 
Ravynn
Awake and alone
I have nothing but this silent night
The terrible thoughts in my head
I can’t win this fight
Events that are all my fault
Knowing I can’t change the past
This pain is unbearable
I’m suffering as the voices in my head try to
Sing me to sleep
 99° 
Jake Shin
My knees caress the soft soil
In the shade of a giant.
A kind giant of course,
My very own BFG.

He brings me life,
My very own breath.
He is a generous giver,
Never expecting anything back.

In the autumn,  
Parts of him fall,
Storms of orange and yellow
Obscuring my vision.

He waits for me in the morning,
Standing in my yard for eternity.

In the summer,
I seek his refuge,
Cool shadows lessening into
A blissful comfort.

To this sweet maple I'm grateful.
Inspired by The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein
Alludes to The BFG by Roald Dahl
 92° 
Meera
My pen bleeds
As its ink seeps
My words cry
The seer weeps
I keep scrawling
Until my pain recedes
Walking on my way
Where my lament leads
Crumbling to bones
Changing to fit the needs
My frailty drives me
As nothingness breeds
In madness I did
Those fearful deeds
Now I'll have to pay
The price of my greed
Making me suffer
My demons succeed
In the garden of love
I feel like a weed
I am looking for my way
To the flowery meads
Where the chains will be shattered
And then I will be freed
Sometimes you just feel lost and there seems no way out
 92° 
Midnight Rains
I will give you
mountains,
with jagged
                     edges
that spell your name,

if you say but one word
from your silent lips
All echoes will clash together,
I will make them the triumphant song
of your arrival

a single tremble,
a whisper,
just a careless breath spilling
from your lips
would be enough

I am crumbling to dust
under the weight of your silence,


say one word of love or hate
from your lips meant just for me
and i will
            
give you mountains
jagged with edges that
spell your name

              
give me one sound,
just a hint of your
scarce voice
so I know you still
exist
 92° 
Jack
“please be naked”

she stands in her doorway wearing just a gown,
I walk in the house, dumbstruck by beauty,
up in her room undoing the bow, the shield simply slides down
caressing her curves, stroking down to the floor,
intertwined bodies craving the touch of the other,
joined as one in the gentle acts of love and lust,
romanticised ideals of perfection and soft rhythm,
delicate groans as two become one,
the broken poet, for the moment, is gone,
my drug addiction of you, just wanting more,
As my heart bleeds, love begins to pour.

“please be naked”.
this poem is influenced by The 1975 instrumental song "please be naked". i regularly think of this song as romanticising the act of sex and the trust required with it rather than what most songs make it today. despite having no lyrics the song speaks volumes to me and id definitely recommend it to anyone. stay safe and live well. JY x
 91° 
Kyle Dal Santo
In school, "Virgin" was as bad as "Whore"
It had been raining, I had been heart broken
The night was cold, it was almost Fall
My birthday was in the Fall, soon I'd be seventeen
I'd be seventeen, and still a Virgin
I may have broke it off, but she's the one who ended it
I may have been dumb, but she was unfaithful
Thus I ran, and dove into her arms
I knew she was older, she knew I was younger
She was lonely, looking for fun
I was lost, looking for a new rush
My face was red, I had been drinking
Her lips were red, she had been hunting
I found a corner to hide, but she smelled blood
Her eyes drilled into mine, she licked her lips and breathed fire
My legs started to shake, my lips started to quiver
She came like a viper, she slithered toward me
Hypnotized by her hips, my mouth watered at her breasts
She sat on my lap, and looked me up and down
"You looked lonely," she said, "I think you're cute."
Boy was I, lonely that is, she took my beer and took a sip
Her perfume smelled like fruit, her breath smelled like candy
The warmth from her legs met mine, and my cheeks turned the color of her lips
My heart was dancing, her eyes were twinkling
She took me prisoner, and dragged me upstairs
She slammed the door and sealed my fate
Her smile was devious, her smell so sweet
Her hands on my belt, her tongue on my teeth
She kidnapped me beneath the sheets, she made me her prisoner of war
And I waved the red flag, I was ready for war
I wanted war, I wanted you
I wanted her, I wanted it, I wanted the badge
She dug her nails in my skin, I dug my teeth into hers
Our clothes took themselves off, her thong was black lace
She devoured me, I penetrated her
We danced, we kissed, we wrestled and sang
... And then it was over
It was over in twenty minutes
This veil of innocence that we chastised
That we mock and rush to throw away
Is so easily thrown away
But those twenty minutes were amazing, although I probably wasn't
She knew it was my first time, she called me out
"You're a virgin," she said, "Don't tell me you're not."
Embarrassed I countered, "I'm also not eighteen."
She gasped in horror, and stormed out of the room
In her speed to grab her clothes, she'd forgotten to tell me her name
And to this day, I still don't know it.
Kyle D.
 89° 
Djamel Nasri
You  sublime  joy
drunkenness of my faith
dreamed name of my life
pleasant euphoria
pleasing to my being
my heart is waiting
the time of a tango
tempo of my heart
you my delicate flame
your body united to mine
dance under the moon
lights and shadows
an air of Argentina
the bandoneon music
the tango grants
our steps you in me
You the harmonious gift
sublimes my soul
softens my being
rock my words
by the nice Andalusian song
the melody charms my hearing
You my joy
my day and my night
my wonderful life!
Remember me when you feel all alone,
I'm always here for you, I'll never leave you on your own.
Remember me when your heart is broke in two,
I'll always be here to pick up the pieces and heal your heart for you.
Remember me when you feel depressed, stressed or angry,
I'm always going to be by your side through it all, please believe in me. Remember me when you're confused or lost,
Because I'm always here for you no matter what the cost.
Remember me when you're feeling ill in any way,
I'll always be here to nurse you back to health any day.
Remember me after I am gone,
And just for you, I'll be sure to ask God to leave Heaven's light on.
Remember me please, don't forget,
I'll always remember you, our friendship I'll never regret.
Remember me if you're in Heaven before me,
Maybe you can guide the light for me to see.
Remember me when you don't think you can ever love again,
Because I am here waiting to love you, but I can wait 'til then.
Remember me when you feel like nobody loves you,
Just so you know that I'll always be here, forever too.









©Words of a withering soul
Remember that u are not lonely... And I'll always be there for you
 83° 
patty m
The blind man too,
enjoys birdsong, sun on his face,
pungent scents of spice, the
perfume of flowers.
Even the flute pipes sweeter when
undistracted.

In solitary silence
taste the freshly peeled orange,
enjoy the citrus spray,
remember this spaceless,
pin-wheeling sensation.

Savor the memory of
of morning gold rush,
summer blues in lazy sky,
rose and amber dusk falling,
nights when the moon hung so low
light brushed your cheek with slumber
and you saw heaven through the eyes of a dream.
 72° 
Egg
We cannot write silence.
The beats.
The pause.
The breath.
The way it aches
and persists

and begs that,

if only for a moment,

our consciousness is only a whisper.
our bodies,
our lips,
the air that passes through falling chests
and stillness.

A melody of emotion.
Sleeping in the quiet of a heartbeat skipped
a word lost to the wind.

The wickedness of reticence
Encapsulated in air and time.

The moment stretched too long.
Hesitation perpetuated in the grip of fingernails
pressed into palms.

We cannot write silence,
but we can try.

to find a way to immortalize emotion
to create space
in the ceaseless drone of words that speak and spin.

I cannot write silence. But I can write
tears and years
and the burn of long-stretched lies.

I can write goodbyes and hellos
And dozen ways to say
I love to hate you
Or
I hate to love you
and sometimes
I cannot tell the difference.
Silence.
The space I have upheld for myself.

I love to hate you
Heart.

I hate to love you too.

I cannot write silence.
But I know it.
and I have held it in my hand.
Inspired by the Vanity Fair article of André Aciman's reaction to his book *Call Me By Your Name* being made into a movie. Specifically the quote, "I couldn't write silence."
 72° 
Tony Cortez
I use to be so lost
Overcome by intense darkness at every corner
It seemed like they would drag me by my ankles just to beat me down

But then you came along
They were afraid of you
Because you represented something that I had missing hope
You are my hope and my light

In a room that's pitch black you shed radiance over the dark in me
And for that you're the most meaningful person to me on this planet
After everything even though its
Been short I can't imagine giving everything that I am to someone else

I gave you honesty, trust, and power over me
Before I hated being vulnerable but now I don't mind that it's you
I would never openly admit this for others to see but it's worth it now
Set in stone

I went to see a movie last night and the final
Words overcame me
Those words were

"In the end, we all have someone we belong to"

You are that someone and I belong to you
My purpose and my existence
Is dedicated to you
And the future that is to come
These are my true feelings about you
Just pure love and devotion
Because we belong to each other
Even if something gets in the way

We will find our way back to eachother
I have feeling we always do
My country girl
Belonging to each other
Is what I was meant for
 71° 
abby
We are the ones who are hard to understand
We'll be the last ones in the movie theatre
because the ending scene made us cry
We'll stop to smell the roses
because they deserve to be appreciated
We are the ones who will take the time
to get to know what keeps you up at night
We are the ones who will imagine
an entire future of adventures
with the people who show us love

We are the ones who will love you more
than we love ourselves sometimes
We will give you our strongest parts
in hopes that we can make things better
We desire to see you become the best you
to make sure that you always feel our love
We crave affection and appreciation
We give a piece of ourselves away every day
sometimes to people who don't deserve it
Our love is easy to take advantage of
and sometimes we don't get back
the love that we give away

When we hurt, we crumble and fall apart
We constantly have to put ourselves back together
We are more fragile than we like to give off
We carry our emotions on our sleeves
Our flaws have the ability to consume us
We aren't afraid to give you the world
but we are afraid to feel unloved
We want you to see what we see
We want you to understand where we're coming from

We are good people with good intentions
We are stronger than we look like
Not everyone can feel the way we feel
We feel too much, too often
We are not hard to love
We are something not everyone knows how to love
But you need to remember that
your worth does not change just because
no one is there to appreciate you, to remind you

You are not any less lovable
You are the most lovable person in the world
You are a light that the world needs
Your kindness is not your weakness
You do not need to change for anyone's acceptance
You do not need to stop giving love
just because you don't get any back
Your heart is the best thing about you

And one day when you least expect it
someone will notice you from across the room
and know exactly how to love you
They will think all of these things are beautiful
They will deserve the love you can give
They will fill the empty space in your heart
But for now, don't stop feeling
We are the ones who feel everything so deeply
We are the ones who can't give up because
We are the ones who will teach the world
how to love
We are exactly who we are supposed to be
 71° 
Lunar
He told me,
"You are a
coincidence
that looks like
destiny."

I told him,
"You are a
déjà vu
that looks like a
memory."

They told us,
"You are a
dream
that looked like
reality."
The quoted lines in the first stanza are the lyrics of one of my favorite songs, "Sing Me," by DAY6.

I have frequent déjà vus, which i always mistake for memories which are mine or i've been through. reality can get so confusing sometimes.

(j.m.)
 70° 
Crumble
I have always
Been a people-pleaser
Some would even say
A pushover.

I change my personality
To fit every conversation
Please don't confront me
Please don't raise your voice
Don't look too closely
Let me be the person you want me to be

And when I've been found out
I ran
And I lost people
Because I can't be who I am
And I can't just be myself
People I loved

7,630 days
Of trying to be anyone else

When I met you
I was me
I was a real person
Because I didn't feel the need
To hide, to lie
And when I stopped
Trying to please people
Somehow

I pleased you.
 69° 
Meera
He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
That's how true poetry comes into existence
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