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unwritten Jun 2014
i.
hearing your name still fills me with a certain intoxicating sweetness.

ii.
i hate you. god, i hate you so much. but i love you. please come back.

iii.
i'm sorry that it had to end up like this. i don't think you care, though.

iv.
it's okay if you've lost your innocence. i've lost mine, too. life will do that to people.

v.
i was often happiest when you said my name like maybe i meant something to you.

vi.
i am stuck between wanting to forget you and wanting to crawl back to you.

vii.
most of my poems are still about you, even now.

viii.
i hope you're doing okay.

ix.
please don't forget me.

x.**
thank you.
thoughts?
unwritten Jun 2014
how can i possibly tell you
*all i need to?
first 10w poem. kinda *****.
  Jun 2014 unwritten
poeticalamity
I swear to you, officer,
I tell the truth.
I was the witness
to a most terrible crime.

You see,
there are people out there,
in the world
(you must have seen them before, sir)
who tend to despise themselves
simply for being who they are.

There isn't actually anything wrong with them
not anything you would see on X-ray scans
or a medical sheet
with little x's through boxes
and unreadable scribbles of tangible symptoms.

but their tears are tangible all the same.

The crime, sir,
is the fact that
sadly, no one sees
that figurative demons
can be as real as any disease.
unwritten Jun 2014
there will be no greater joy
than to see the constellations in your eyes
fall apart
like shredded tendons.

and there will be no finer victory
than the one that will come
when you realize that the planets do not orbit around you,
and that you are, in fact, no better
than the rest of us,
in this meaningless assembly line
around the sun.

there will be no happier moment
than when it occurs to you
that you are not as high and mighty as you believe yourself to be,
and that you will never
dance among the stars.

there will be no greater joy
than to see the paint start to chip
off of your poorly painted universe
that is your feeble facade.

(a.m.)
i find myself referencing the sky and outer space a lot in my poems. and no, this is not directed towards anyone in particular.
unwritten Jun 2014
i will watch you fly,
like a migrating bird,
and i will pretend
that i didn't see a smile of relief
upon your face
or a new spark of freedom
in your eyes.

i will watch you soar,
like a roaring jet,
and i will pretend
that i didn't see the way you looked at him
or the downwards shift
in your disposition
when you realized that you were still mine.

i will watch you leap,
like a grown frog,
and i will pretend
that you are still a tadpole,
and always will be,
and will never leave.

i will watch you fly,
and i will pretend
that i have stopped loving you.

(a.m.)
inspired by "walk it off" by angus & julia stone. thoughts?
  Jun 2014 unwritten
Andrew Durst
Your eyes
are dark and
dull...

I could've
sworn they
were bright blue
when we
first
met.
Time has this ability.
  Jun 2014 unwritten
JR Potts
We joke sometimes
about falling in love,
we talk in deep detail
about our romance;
the kind of house we want,
the name of the family dog,
would we rather have boys or girls,
and we argue over who will stay home
to raise the kids, I always let you win.

We joke sometimes
about growing old together;
we talk about thinning hair,
wrinkling skin, tired eyes
and energized grand kids.
We promise to one another
that we will stay in love,
still hold hands, hug each other tightly
and kiss both daily and nightly

We joke sometimes
about a life we could be living
and I just want you to know
that I am not always kidding.
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