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 Aug 17 Lane O
1487
The poetry isn’t in all these words —
It’s in knowing I survived them.
Holy smokes! Thank you everyone for all of the support! I don’t come here too often so I did not expect this; what a beautiful surprise ♥️
 Aug 16 Lane O
Kimma Grates
If only I had been

faster


If only I had been

enough


If only you had loved me,
then perhaps I could have loved you,
and then you would have

stayed


If only people were

understanding


If only they had

listened


If only they hadn't broken your trust,
then you could give it to me,
and then you would have

stayed


If only you were still

here


If only I had the guts to tell you

before


If only I had seen what was going on,
then I could have helped,
and then you would have

stayed
 Aug 16 Lane O
Anais Vionet
(3 Senryus)

No - don’t kiss me
unless you're planning to
start a new habit.

Don't borrow kisses
unless you can return them
with real interest.

Remember boy-O
it's all fun and games 'til
someone falls in love.
three haikus - about kisses borrowed - not stolen  =]
 Aug 16 Lane O
simon law
Single
footsteps,
in the sand
form behind me,
another reminder
that my journey
is my own

The
waves,
They lazily wash over,
effortlessly
filling my imprints,
restoring perfection
to the beach

But,
although they are
now hidden,
I still know
they existed,
In my mind,
And from the sand
On my feet
 Aug 16 Lane O
mae
LIFELINE
 Aug 16 Lane O
mae
I write poems
to drive away my demons
I write poetry
for me to keep my sanity

and I write,
so I can keep myself alive
April 15, 2019 – 9:49PM
 Aug 16 Lane O
Guntang
my mind goes
in the forest
i’ve been here before
why not get lost
some more?
leave breadcrumbs
so i can find you
or blood splatters
so i can feel my way
to you
when it’s dark
and i’m on my hands and knees
in the deep forest
it’s dark
the trees congregate
and the branches laugh
i will never get out of here
the dark
forest
has me
I like the feel
of a lime

small and firm
in the palm of my hand

tangible

I like the texture
of the rind,
fingers roving
eyes fixed
on the vivid green

and I like
when you slice
emerald crescents
a **** treat
just for me
Cheap and juicy
You and I became
self-taught linguists
immersing ourselves
in the language
of luminosity

we studied the moon's
dialect
until we could
shine fluently,
decode her
subtle gleaming

there is no
direct translation
but I promise
each night's glow
has meaning
Your laughter
cut
through
the dark
spilling
joy
into the vacuum
of
our pain.
My best poems sprout
on the edge of sleep
but
every morning
I awaken

to find the verses
lost to my dreams
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