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A Poet 14h
Citrus, rosemary and peppermint (from the hot chocolate you hate)
under the Christmas lights (of the mall you hated),
these memories, push them out.

Our laughter at your stupid jokes ( I hated),
stolen glances, and a given kiss,
amongst the cold outdoor desert air.

Poets of passion,
writing stories of love on our skin,
a language of desire and longing.

Your ink forever stains my heart,
a reminder, that I am not happy,
that I am not good enough,
that I am forever mourning.

My heart which longs to fickle,
it longs to belong, someday, find another.
Yet it is chained, with a fragile ember,
amongst your ink that stains it.
That refuses to die, that you are alive,
you are breathing, you are here, you never left.
( I hate myself)
(I hate myself)
(I am a fool)
I wish to hear your stupid joke, "what did the horse say. . ." (what a stupid joke) once more.
A Poet 14h
Love me for me,
I am human, I am kind, I am normal.
Stop me! Tell me its alright!
For I fear to be myself.
A Poet 14h
This love that echoes, in the chasm of longing.
  Whispers of winds, of lovers in a life before.
      Bound by a love that pierces the veil of time,
           Ethereal, Eternal, Fleeting Love.
              Two souls conjoined in purgatory,
                   beat with a single heart.
                      Forever bound, to conjoin, but drift apart
                          in this dance, let us hope we are given a second chance.
A Poet 14h
Snowflakes. . . weave threads, a tapestry of experience.
The beauty of age, in wisdom it lies.
Like the dreary change of season, beauty shifts, its form rearranged.
A Poet Dec 2
You're happier without me,
I know I wasn't what you wanted.
Please, say you miss me, even though we both know you don't.
Say you love me . . . once more.
A Poet Dec 2
The smell of melons & sweat,
from your cheap clean shampoo, amongst the dreary rain.
Two wet lips met, in your ancient truck.
We'd talk about our future, as I lay my head on your lap.
Time was trivial, just the thrill of eyes that may see.
I want to be loved,
I want to be yours,
In another life, we will meet again
amongst the smell of melons, muddy cleats & ***** rain.
I want to be loved,
I want to be yours 𝒢𝑔𝒢𝒾𝓃
A Poet Nov 30
I remember the tears,
I remember the hurt,
I remember the fear
There was no food, no money, just yells of desperation.
Life was mundane, or maybe it was the hunger?
I vowed, I would never suffer , cry or go hungry that day.
& yet I did all three this week, its ironic.
You can have everything in the world , everything you dreamed.
Everything you wanted. . . but still feel so powerless,
life is a roller coaster, we are its occupants.
I will vow again, but that will just be lying.
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