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 Sep 2018 Dania
rosecoloredpoet
I only write when I'm sad
Does that make me mad?
When I wish to be dead
And all these holded tears are shed
I turn to poetry and suddenly life's not as bad
I don't know what I would do without it
 Aug 2018 Dania
Paul-Dieter
I try to forget your name,
But I keep seeing it in lightning
And I hear it in the rain.
I tried to scream
like thunder,
crying for you to stay,
But the words
fall out my mouth
like leaves,
And the wind
only blows them away.
 Jun 2018 Dania
MsAmendable
We dance in the ashes like
Literary scavengers.
In the ruins and after rages
We draw the shreds of words and pages
Around our naked bodies like Blankets,
A quilt of the quintessential struggle
Which all people suffer
I'm not sure if I posted this before,  but it's have been a while. I wrote this not too long after reading "the Book Theif" which was wonderful
 Jun 2018 Dania
Eliza
Poets
 Jun 2018 Dania
Eliza
Preserver
Keeper
Guardian of memories
That’s what poets are
Their words dance like a candle flame’s shadows against the soft blow of the wind
Flickering, whispering
In the silence of the night
Humming a lullaby.
Their words the tune that tell
A story.
A memory.
Of what once was, of what is,
And of what will be.
 May 2018 Dania
LS
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 with a poet
they will never stop
mentioning your name
you will be alive
for eternity
 May 2018 Dania
Hannah Marr
"You shouldn't smoke.
That stuff'll **** you.
You'll get cancer,
or something."

                                                    ­                                      "Shut up, Terry."

"Aaron, you're hands
are shaking.
At least
let me light it
for you."

                                                          ­                               "...thanks, Terry."

"..."

                                                 ­                                                                "..."

"Are you okay?"

                                                         ­                             "Why do you ask?"

"You haven't needed
a smoke this badly
since that happened."

                                                     ­                                                 "I'm fine."

"Do you really
believe that?"

                                                         ­                                             "If I say it
                                                              ­                                 enough times
                                                           ­                                                   I will
                                                            ­                                      eventually."

"You know
I'm here for you
right?"

                                                    ­                         "...yeah. Thanks, Terry."

"Don't mention it.
It's not a problem
when it's you."

h.f.m.

— The End —