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Poetria Feb 2017
I suppose,
when you have felt the high
and you have also felt
at an all time low,
all you really want
is to feel it all over again
or to feel nothing at all.

So you sit on the side of the pavement
just a little outside safe but
just enough over the line,
accepting the danger
you may be forced to face.

Anxious and excited,
or sometimes nothing at all
and you sit there all alone until
you are sitting there
no more.
I think it's called overthinking, but I'll just think over that some more.
  Feb 2017 Poetria
ryn
A fistful of time...
Saw the doing and the undoing
of misguided hands.

A fistful of words...
Hurled in exchange,
like expended rounds that
drew more than they should.

A fistful of life...
Taken for granted
and traded in for
forgotten sands.

A fistful of heart...
Wrung dry by familiar digits...
Suffocating still...
Like I knew it would.
  Feb 2017 Poetria
Tyler Lockwood
before her
fall in love with the feeling of
your own skin
marvel at the light hitting each contour of
yourself, inside and out
her name on your lips
cannot, will not mend you until
you learn to adore
the color of your own eyes
and the feeling of your own hands intertwined
Poetria Feb 2017
Our heads
will hurt,
Our bones
will break.

We ******
love;
Our hearts,
they ache.

So dance
with the shadows
your candles
create.

Learn some
lessons,
and make
some mistakes.

Fire
breeds love,
and flames
create hate.
Utterly lame. The critics are laughing. [The non-existent critics, that is.]
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