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 Oct 2017
Brianna
7
When it's not so sad anymore I will show pictures of us to my future children.
I keep them hidden in 7 different folders on my computer to try and hide them from myself so I don't get weak and want to look at the better days.

I deleted you from social media, I blocked you, but as we all know that's a temporary solution to the bigger problem.
I always find love for you even when I hate you deep down inside- hidden under 7 layers of skin and memories.

When it's not so sad anymore I almost wish we would run into each other on the streets.
Maybe it won't be so awkward, I'll have moved on and you'll have moved on but maybe there will be a small spark still there.

When it's not so sad anymore, I will eventually delete those pictures from my memory and my computer.
I will find a way to permanently erase your love one of these days... maybe 7 months from now, maybe 7 years from now... someday.
 Oct 2017
F Edward
i tumble around
in this poetical haze
what am i doing?
 Oct 2017
b
When you find whatever it is you’re looking for
I hope you’ll remember who helped steer the ship
When your legs were too dull to play captain.
 Oct 2017
Elrow Swift
You who goes by "Lonely"
Yes you, who reads these rhymes
Please pause here for a moment
I won't take much of your time

You see my friend, I'm lonely too
In the dark with paper and pen
So I'm writing you this poem
and signing it "Your Friend"

Though I'll prob'ly never see you
nor ever know your name
I do not need to see your face
nor know your cash and fame

I do not care what color you are
how short or tall or fat
I'm weary of all these parties and creeds
So, for a moment, forget all of that

Yes you, dear friend, forget with me
Inhale this moment serene
where we are not opinions or castes
Just two humans with two glowing screens

Be human with me, simple and pure
For a moment breathe deep and feel free
then should you have the time, and a halfway good rhyme
Perhaps write a poem for me.

Signed,
Your Friend
This one isn't great, but I don't really care. I would normally throw something like this away, but the afterimage of hope made me wonder if maybe it would strike a chord with someone somewhere.  I promise to post more polished verse in the future, but all the same, thank you for reading. -ES
 Oct 2017
soyun
There is a certain Beauty in Brokenness
And Purpose in Pain.
 Oct 2017
Lora Lee
(explicit)

**** my soul
        with poetry
           scream out my gracious name
             slay me with words
               that peel my layers
                and simultaneously
                                   drive me
                                           insane

finger me slowly, hotly
with just the right rhythm and rhyme
    push me past my
                 tender limits
                       into tongues of syntax,
                                                      sublime

a­lliterate my senses
   (in swift stac
                    c-at
                           o)
until my mind is but blank verse
    mess up my stressed
              and unstressed syllables
in unsung language, versed

I will speak to you in vowels
(the only sound
       I will be able to make)
as you stroke
   my iambic pentameter
             in the heat of frothed-up
                                                     ache

we are this heroic couplet, you see
        even if the meaning seems veiled
           no need for simile or metaphor
               as I feel your chest rise
                              in deep inhale

we are a natural paradox
       so many ironies abound
         discordant harmony
is our synaesthesia
     in visible darkness found

and I love this delicious enjambment
as your aura invisibly slips
                               into mine
our lines have no beginning,
                                 no end
    as we undo
          the boundaries
                      of time
Explicit!
synaesthesia-The production of a sense impression relating to one sense or part of the body by stimulation of another sense or part of the body.

en·jamb·ment
inˈjambmənt,enˈjam(b)mənt/שלח
noun
(in verse) the continuation of a sentence without a pause beyond the end of a line, couplet, or stanza.
 Oct 2017
Elizabeth Squires
hands dark of grip
wrap tight
permitting no visible
light

trapped by terror
of the mind
falling into
malady's rind

deep depression
without concession
 Oct 2017
Rj
I'll give up being able to control my thoughts
I never like them anyways
 Sep 2017
Brandi R Lowry
As echoes and whispers
Begin to change
And sound and silence
Become the same
I look back
From where I came
And find solice
In everything
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