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 Apr 2014 Momo
Kayla Hollatz
Never once has a
dictionary defined this
infatuation,
adoration,
l  o  v   e.
 Apr 2014 Momo
Fon
Miss you
 Apr 2014 Momo
Fon
I do not know
How many miles away
We are so far
From each other

Different time
Different place
My mind now
Is like a maze

I'm trapped
In my own thought
Can't seem to find
The way out

Missing someone
Is bitter
You long for their presence
Wish they would show up

But all you can do
Is keep missing
And hoping
They would feel
The same way, too
 Apr 2014 Momo
Kacie
Coffee.
 Apr 2014 Momo
Kacie
You’re like that cup of coffee,
At six in the morning,
Before a long day begins.
You keep me going,
For a few hours,
And then at night,
I crash.
 Apr 2014 Momo
kerosine eyes
March 18, 2014, 5:34 PM

They say that all roads lead to home but who is they and if I knew I would tell them that home is not a place although I wish it was but if all roads do lead to home I have taken every road there is to get to you but there aren't any left to take and if I knew who they were I would ask them where to go when home no longer wants them when the place they went to feel whole again is now what tears them apart but home is not a place oh how I wish it was because home was his eyes the night he told you you are what keeps him sane home was his arms the night he held you when you cried because you were losing him home was his voice the night he assured you he wasn't going anywhere but oh home is not a place home is now his eyes when he tells you he has nothing left for you home is now his arms when he says he is sorry home is now his voice when he tells you he can not stay and if all roads do lead to home I was on my way but stopped when I saw the foreclosure sign on your front door
 Apr 2014 Momo
lia
alone
 Apr 2014 Momo
lia
it gets better*
they all say
but it has been
365 days
and everything is still the same
i am still engulfed in my sadness
and i am still
oh so
completely
alone
 Apr 2014 Momo
J
Why is hellopoetry.com black and white? I've always wondered about this... why my colorful photographs are required to travel back in time. How does this effect the poetry in any way, shape, or form? But I understand the wisdom of this design now. And it sets a great metaphor for all of the people of the pen involved in this truly noble motion, this secret society for people with passion, talent, and troubled minds and souls. Hello Poetry is black and white not because it has to be monochromatic and modern, but because us poets fill these pages with enough inovativeness and color already with our words, ideas, thoughts, songs, senryus, ballads, heartbreaks, insecurities, that adding literal color to this website would be overwhelming. These soft undertones of gray, black, and white may be considered drab and depressing to some, but to us poets it represents timelessness. And this is probably why we are all here. Hourly, daily, weekly, monthly, or even yearly publishing poems. Because we all know we are not going to live forever, and we are so entirely insignificant in the broad scheme of things and of the universe itself, that it is a bit comforting and helpful to have this coping mechanism or soft blankie to calm our fears, that this literature we write, however insignificant it may be, is absolutley permanent. And that maybe someday it will be remembered so a small bit of us may live on. Tom Riddle knew the needs and wants of man kind before anybody else realized it. Maybe he was just trying to cope with the fact that he is insignificant. These poems are all our Horcruxes so *viveamus per camenam nostram.
^^^let us live through our poetry
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