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Can I gaze into your stardust eyes,
And drink in your heavy sighs?
Cobweb corners
House friends of
Crooked faces
Watching from
Lopsided frames
Half covering holes
Gaping wounds
In these walls
Left haunted

I need to delve into you
Like a reader with an open book,
Swimming through the fathomless depths
of every chapter in your deep blue past
I want to skim your pages,
Tracing your words with my fingers
Like so many rays of brilliant light
Breaching the surface
Of who you truly are
Adronitis (n.) frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone
Loneliness looks me in the eyes
Takes me by my frigid hands,
And pulls me into an embrace
Silent and stoic, it holds me
Into the darkest night
A clandestine meeting
With no end in sight
As words spill freely
From behind loose lips
Rivers of thought begin to form
And while they ebb and flow
Around the heads of those  
Pouring them into the world,
One must wonder if they will manage
To trickle into ears to fill empty minds
Before spilling into seas of apathy
anecdoche (n.) Taking part in a conversation in which everyone is talking but nobody is listening
Ancient, languid pines
Paint a clouded night
Onto a dark canvas,
Muddled skies
Brought to life
Using shades of gray,
And silver moonlight
With bated breaths
We exhale into crisp days
Cinnamon scented winds
Will carry tidings of cozy nights
As the trees drape themselves
In silks of red and gold,
Beacons in the foggy nights,
Wearing their best attire
In celebration of the harvest moon

n. a wistful omen of the first sign of autumn
Such a sight my heart remembers,
When heavy boughs rained autumn embers
So many warmly painted trees
Creating mosaics in the breeze
The leaves were dancing toward the ground,
They twirled and circled all around
We held our hands up to the sky
Caressing them as they flew by
Flickering through the smudge of grey,
Little fires to brighten our cloudy day
We watched them land on their bed of green
Creating a most resplendent scene,
A quilt of yellows, oranges, and reds
Woven from such brilliant threads
We gazed upon that lovely sight,
Until we saw the edge of night
And then we bid our friends farewell
And left them laying where they fell
This is a poem about a memory I hold very dear.
The dog has been
Nipping at my heels
For some time,
And I'm so tired
That I think
I may just
Let him carry me
For a little while
It is so very easy
To open these veins
When love runs
Deeper than blood

Wind brushes my skin
I felt you that way,
Soft and fleeting
A gentle reminder
That I wasn't alone

Wind blows harder
Harsh and cold
******* the air
Straight from my lungs
As you once did

Wind is now gone
Sweeping through the trees
Somewhere around me
Always there,
But never tangling my hair
My soul feels alive
Wrapped in rays
From sunniest skies
Hanging there in
Your bright blue eyes

My eyes are always searching
For those hidden paths,
Escape routes
Through the ghost towns
That I am tearing down
With slow hands
You found the cracks
In my soul
And poured your light in
Through them
So that I could
See myself again
I cried today
I don't know who I was crying for
Men, women, and children taken by war
Or maybe it's the hungry and cold
Or those who feel they can't be bold
Enough to make their voices heard
They'll never speak a single word
Maybe they were tears of pain
Falling down like summer rain
For those who choose the side of hate
Almost as if they cannot wait
To watch our world be torn apart
By those who do not have a heart
The ones who look you in the eyes
While they spew and spout the foulest lies
I wept for myself and for you all
And ever on these tears will fall
For today I weep for liberty
And the justice some will never see
I think this one speaks for itself.
There is a tear
That hangs inside
My mind's eye

A jagged jewel
Refracting my life
Into vibrant pools
That draw me under

And I want to drown
In their rippling waters

Shimmering scenes
Luring me ever further
Into the depths of myself
While daydreams reverberate
Off of blockade brains
We sit in wooden cages
Our painted faces
Plastered in melting windows

We watch pale skies
While waiting for rain
Or maybe the atom's apple
To break the monotony
Of thinking about the end

Death reaches for me
From a distance
With a pale hand
But the ancient fingers
Like the threads of time
Can only extend so far

Death looks at me
With slow eyes
Holding my gaze
Like one might hold
A dying animal
A despairing embrace

Death begs me,
With bloodied lips
And broken words,
To come with him
For death is often lonely
And so am I
This is a poem about dealing with depression and suicidal thoughts.
Your name rests
Between my lips
Like a prayer
Or maybe
Something sweeter
Dripping off the
Tip of my tongue

We stand inside
Stale air compartments
That we call apartments
Because we feel alone here

We spend our time
Earning daily bread
Feeding the constant dread
That wants to consume you

We see our lives
Plastered on screens
The eyes of machines
Ever watching us

We rip ourselves
From empty seats
Walking crowded streets
To find a sense of purpose

I released the earth
From my clinging fingertips
Letting the hands on the clock
Carry me towards the end
It was only then that I realized
That I had become numb
To the lament of all of our days

Come and sit beneath the tree
We'll watch the fairies, wild and free
Shimmering wings dart here and there
Carrying tiny beings without a care
On tiny toadstools they do land
With blooms and berries in their hands
Wearing broken twigs and maple leaves
And bits of moss torn from the eaves
Now that they've finished playing games
They'll dance and sing round brilliant flames
Underneath a shining crescent moon
Til' dawn they'll sway, and drink, and croon
And when the sun is overhead
It will finally be time for bed
Magic flows throughout the night
When dainty fairies are filled with delight
I glimpse something fleeting
On the stage behind your eyes
A dancer leaping from wing to wing
Sure footed in one motion
Yet stumbling into the next

The corners of your lips flutter
Butterflies ready to take flight
Held hostage in your nets
Sitting in wait of their freedom
Yearning to show their colors

fata organa (n.) a flash of real emotion glimpsed in someone sitting across from you
*From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows*
Bloodstained sunrise
Slices through deep blues,
Pushing aside shimmering jewels
Lighting the way for grey ghost wisps,
Listless drifters warning those around
That red claws grip the earth
Dragging death in their wake
With all the wildfires spreading around the US and Canada right now, I was inspired by the red-orange sunrise this morning.
Silent white morning
Hosts a red velvet hunter
Crimson stains the snow
You let me
Trace the stars
In your skin
With my fingertips
Like constellations
In the night sky
Some days
I am floating free
Swimming 'round my head
Nothing to weigh me down
To keep me glued to the ground

But then again,
I suppose it's alright
If I drift about
from time to time

Moon's eye opens
I look at her,
She gazes back at me

I can't help but wonder
If she feels
A little lonely tonight

When I split myself open
You reached a steady hand
Into a garden overgrown
With briars and stillborn blooms,
Plucking them away
With loving fingers,
Ignoring the wounds
That came from tending to me

Once every wilted vine
Had been cleared
From a trellis made of bones
You began plucking
Even the smallest of thorns
From my punctured heart,
Planting new seeds
In the holes left behind

Then you took my trembling hands
Into your bloodied palms
And showed me how to  
Make a garden grow

Gardens will grow here
Hungry roots will reach
Between bones
An Eden in death
For the undertaker
Two lips
For my lover
Petals pressed
In cold soil

I just need some sleep

But I have to let it in again
Because it's getting ever louder
So I'll ease the rapping at the door
That tell-tale heart I can't ignore
And it lingers in my veins

Wandering these empty halls
It will blow out all the candles
And invite in the gloom
Darken each and every room
To make it more inviting

I will carry it around with me
Yet as empty as it feels
The weight only grows
And time never slows
But I will be fine

I just need some sleep

I want to sink
My teeth in deep
A pomegranate gush
You could be
Sweeter than honey
I could be
Satiated by this flesh

gnasche (n.) the intense desire to bite deeply into the forearm of someone you love
Please let me leave,
I'm ready to go
Into the vast wilderness
Of life undone
By my own frail hands
I watch my story
In monochrome
Radiating in my head
Like radio waves
Playing a funeral song,
A melancholy melody
Written in a language
Only I can speak
This is a poem about having suicidal urges and tendencies. I've lived with mental illness for a very long time, and suicide has affected myself, and many people close to me, so it is an issue that is very close to my heart.
Blackberry vines curl
Around wooden skeletons
Reach for sunny days
You haunt me,
A poltergeist lingering
In my hollow body,
Creating and rearranging
Countless mementos
Adorning the crumbling walls
That hold me together
Floods in
Washes me away

Hay(na)ku is a 3-line poem with one word in the first line, two words in the second, and three in the third. There are no restrictions beyond this.
Tell me,            
How can
Be so heavy?

Some days
The burden is lighter
A helping hand
Carries the weight
With a smile
Or maybe
I find a place
Where it would be safe
To leave it for a while

It always makes its way
Back into it's place
In the middle of me

I am a hoarder
Of memories
Some of them
Adorn my walls
And some of them
Haunt the very halls
I seem to roam
Even when I feel
Oh, so tired

So I paint over them
Everything smeared
With colors astounding
Yet, somehow
They still manage
To fade to grey

How do
I hold you
With hands
That are not
Always my own

When I am enveloped

In raw earth,

Microcosm in my flesh,


Will no longer haunt

Hollow bones
These honey thick words
Stick to the tip
Of my tongue
And syrupy thoughts
Are hard to swallow

Reaching wooden fingertips
Caress a rising sun,
While clouds of warm words
Are quietly woven
Into white lace whispers,
Decorating the pale morning
With passionate thoughts
And bated breaths
From where I lie,
The darkness
Looks alive
In the space
Between branches,
And for a moment
I feel a brief respite
From loneliness
As a swarm of eyes
Lock with mine
The words
I should
Have said
Sit in my gut,
Heavy and blunt,
And all I can do
Is tell myself
That I don't have to
Hold onto
Words unspoken
As I try not to
Spill them
On the floor
At your feet
Jouska (n.) a hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head
You must see
Through roses
As thin as lips
Hiding such
Sharp teeth
Kalopsia (noun.) a condition, state or delusion in which things appear more beautiful than they really are.
When your eyes meet mine
I feel waves crash into me
Ocean meets earth here

Katuata is a Japanese poetic form that consists of 17 or 19 syllables arranged in three lines of either 5, 7, and 5 or 5, 7, and 7 syllables. The form was used for poems addressed to a lover, and a single katauta was considered incomplete or a half-poem.
We feel happiness
In moments vivid and fleeting
Nothing more than
A birdsong chorus
Or the flutter of butterflies
In the breeze
Kairosclerosis (n.)  the moment you realize that you’re currently happy and that the feeling will inevitably go away
I know the way that love tastes
Honeyed fingertips
Pressed tightly to sealed lips

I know the way that love feels
The fluttering of butterflies
And hearts in cages

I know the way that love sounds
Laughter caught in throats
Full of unspoken words

I know the way that love looks
A gleam in the eyes
Casting shadows in the mind
Between the lines~
If only I could stay
In labyrinths green
Ever wandering
In hallways of sunlight
Nothing more than
A lingering thought
Left floating through
Wooden minds and
Mossy corridors

An incessant
Lament radiates
Off of my
Rattling bones,
Echoing in
My hollow chest,
And at times
I cannot seem to
Hold myself
Tight enough to
Stifle the sound
That it makes
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