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A Poet Oct 2020
Endless blue,
sweet endless blue. . .
salt in the air, waves wave "hello"
tranquil cloudlessness, driving down the "American road"
Singing the blues.

10 fingers intertwine,
morning coffee on the breath.
no need to ask,
for deep down,
" I love you" flashes on the imaginary marquee. .  .

Grey,
endless dreariness. .
The smell of rain and mildew in the air. . .
the sheets, yell "goodnight"
Tranquil silence, staying in "our home"
feeling so blue. . .

2 heartbeat diverge and become 1,
morning sunlight through dusty blinds,
no need to ask,
for deep down,
I know you are gone. .  .

-2 ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʙᴇᴀᴛꜱ
A Poet Oct 2020
You never knew heartbreak,
until you heard the words
" I love you, but not in that way"

. . . am I ugly?. . .
. . . is it my weight. . .

what's wrong with me?
A Poet Sep 2020
ℌ𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫
no goodbyes, no words uttered
Yet, all I could wonder . . .
   is how I stand on my feet?

"me"
"me"
"me"

    I'm sorry lover. . .
I know see your mistake.
A Poet Sep 2020
***** old bench,
waiting for the 7:30 bus.
  reminiscing of running late and endless paranoia
    and the warm hand that said "don't worry"


Only god knows,
    why now I "worry"
-Cold hands.
A Poet Sep 2020
Found myself swaying to your tune,
   smiling at me, under the 6 a.m. ardent light. . .

Tell me I am crazy,
    & I'll say its for you. . .

The smell of coffee in the air,
   fresh paint, picket fences and hardly mowed lawn.

Drift, my head gently into you,
  I just want to keep swaying to this tune. . .

Glass break,
   a photo of me and you. . .
         an altar a cruel reminder.
             I found myself swaying . . . alone. . .

- Life's cruel lies
A Poet Sep 2020
This world was so mundane,
  forever lost within my own narcissistic dreary storm.
    "Hey are you listening"
        blue seas,
             blue skies,
                eyes. . .that make me feel insignificant
            

black,
faltered thoughts,
gone.

Now all I see is eyes, covered in masks.
A horrid reminder of a man,
    who made me fee insignificant
        a horrid reminder
          of the failure I have become
             clinging to three words. . . "I love you"
A Poet Sep 2020
People are beautiful. . .
    
    Cities burn,
       I was five and he was forty-three.
     Bang!
       What an awful sound. . .

People are beautiful. . .

Piano Keys & Harps,
     Gluttonous Pigs.
Crash!
     Children starve!


People are ugly,
  - truth.
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