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Poetria Jan 27
make love to the microphone
and your lips have sung this poem
without speaking a single word of it
do we speak the same language?

hazy faded daydream eyes
crinkle quietly at the sides
all I hear is you,
you are louder than my mind

but your attention is diverted
and I remember there's a crowd
the music is back,
the moment has passed
and silence is replaced with sound
Poetria Dec 2018
birds beat their wings against the sky
and a heart beats against time

the sun falls a little more every second and I want to fall with her

she comes back up with less of herself and finds that love again
incomplete but I didn't want to finish it
Poetria Dec 2018
Sea
close my eyes
and there is no sound
the waves delicately
lick my feet
and I'm rooted in my place
almost like I'm waiting,
begging for their taste

I stumble on old rocks
as they push me around
I am not drowning now
but I remember
this is how it felt
before I last drowned

close my eyes
and I feel the water
pulling me down
I'm kneeling now
and there are whispers
leaking into my ears
whispers I had given to the sea
the sea that I thought would help me

but my ears hurt
and I push to the surface
and now I am screaming
for I am the whispers
I am now all of the sea
those terrible things I carry
and the wind is biting
the air is so cold
I am only skin and bone
it is all I can feel is me
a heart losing it's beat
a voice that cannot speak
noiseless yet loud
I am the sea
I'll always write about the Sea
Poetria Dec 2018
are you the pieces put finely together,
or are you a togetherness, pulling apart?

and what lies in the in-between,
the borderlines, the crevices?

those things that bled
from your mind into hidden places

what did you lose in the battle of wits,
what did the darkness hide?
wrote this a while ago and it's just been collecting dust
Poetria Dec 2018
without my secrets I am *****
the exposition would feel strange
but I am not my secrets

they are a fragile sheath
I prefer to keep tucked underneath
but they are not me

every piece of art
is defined differently
to each living being
a multitude of meanings

just like the eye
is our all-telling piece
in this gallery it speaks
a multitude of stories
I haven't written a single poem in ten months, so this is me trying to remember how to write again.
Poetria Mar 2018
You loved the stars
so the stars grew to love you
and the stars said 'stay away'
but you felt entitled to them
they said 'don't come too close'
but you persisted, you resisted
and you reached out
to take what was yours
-
you hurt yourself in your delusion
yet you blamed the stars
for scorching your heart;
you wrote your own tragedy
and the stars, the stars,
they will always burn
for you
I once loved someone. They loved me too, in a way. I assumed that meant their love belonged to me. But it's only a kindness to love and be loved back, I realise now, and you are not entitled to receive the love you choose to give.
Poetria Feb 2018
The only love I want to feel anymore
is the love of the Sea, of the trees, of mountains and rainbows and beautiful buildings, flowers and strangers and poetry, animals and books and art and everything alive,
everything I can only catch glimpses of, everything I need, which I don't have.

I need the love of the Earth, not it's people.
I'll start writing more seriously after my exams in May, but here's something for now
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