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 Aug 2018 AnonEMouse
egghead
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."
 Aug 2018 AnonEMouse
JL Smith
I sit down at my desk
Placing trust in these keys
My world comes alive
As blood surges through me

Every letter I punch
Each stanza I create
Transfers a piece of my heart
Across this paper--my stage

An audience who relates
Commending acts of my play,
But never a witness behind scenes
To an emotionally intoxicated Hemingway

For the performance you see
Is my truth and it takes toll,
But reliving memories while writing
Is worth touching my readers' beautiful souls

© JL Smith
 Aug 2018 AnonEMouse
Jayce
it's much easier to let you see what's under my clothes
than to let you know what makes me smile
letting you physically enter me is so much safer
than allowing you to probe my innermost fears
hearing you tell me that I feel good
is lighter on my heart than hearing you say you love me
*** is the closest I will permit you to get,
my vulnerability when I'm naked is easier to defend than you getting to know me
 Aug 2018 AnonEMouse
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.
 Jul 2018 AnonEMouse
Lvice
Loyalty
 Jul 2018 AnonEMouse
Lvice
I used to write
My secrets in the sand,
Knowing they would never stay
Long enough to be told.

I used to just swim,
pulled my hair up and never
Really tasted the salt that foamed
After the crash.

I've ran in the sand,
Sure, but never have I
Ever let it smooth my
Skin into what it could be.

Before today, I've never
Let the current take me
Under and feel what it's like
To always come back to something.
 Apr 2018 AnonEMouse
Ann Beaver
If I could love
the limping
ugly
afraid
part of me
That I drag through the mud
and thorns

If I could let
the transparent
clawing
screaming
silhouette speak
Instead of kicking it
into the basement

If I could put
my deepest human essence
onto paper
for everyone to see

Then.
Then, I could be free.
Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both

parties and because you
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard

Humanity i love you because
when you’re hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you’re flush pride keeps

you from the pawn shop and
because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
especially in your own house

Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it’s there and sitting down

on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity

i hate you
A bell screams through your mind.
You know now to keep quiet
when the passion is at his tongue.
When his cheeks are trembling
like the hand at your side,
you know to lower your eyes
and speak kind and care.

You know what to expect
and you mark it in your mind.
When dusk makes mirrors out of windows,
you know not to look long at what's behind.
You know to walk right by.

You know it like you know yourself.
You smile like you do,
falling in line to the purpose he’s drawn for you.
He brings you to your feet,
your eyes fixed on the floor.
You know what love endures.
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