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 Nov 2017
frankie
we are fire
i am the orange ember, the coldest part of the flame
you are the white hot tip of at the head of the match head
it sometimes flickers blue

you are blue
i hate blue, i always have
i am red
making purple sounds like a delightful endeavour
but i am reminded of the love bite (why are they called that)
that you left
it was purple, it hurt for weeks
it turned green

i hate you.
i hate blue.
i hate the white flame.
 Nov 2017
Emily Miller
The sticky grogginess of the morning
often wanes as the day lengthens.
Your body begins to crave entertainment,
nourishment,
all sorts of things that are unrelated to sleep.
But after exerting oneself,
you are reminded again of the luxurious feel
of your mattress.
You drag yourself home,
leaving your belongings at the door,
shedding the garb of work and monotony,
and scrub away the grittiness
of the thin film you develop
from a day of human interaction.
Perhaps there is a delicious refreshment
awaiting your empty, tumbling stomach.
You soothe the anxiety rolling in your insides
with each sweet, pillow-y bite
of a chewy sugar cookie,
quenching your thirst with fresh, cold milk,
or a perfect, steaming cup of hot tea.
Finally,
clean,
warm,
and satisfied,
you seek reprieve
in the cool, crisp sheets,
freshly turned down.
The pillows are perfectly placed,
cradling your head,
and the mattress beneath you
is like a cloud
gently lifting you,
carrying you high and rocking you,
as you lay beneath the pleasantly slight weight
of your sheets.
There is a specific moment,
just before you succumb to sleep,
when your body is in such a state of peace and comfort
that you can think of nothing
but giving in to it.
Such a satisfaction can only be described as
bliss.
Your body has no complaints
for the first time all day.
It is perfect,
delectable,
almost guilt-inducing,
like your tea, right between too hot and too cold,
or a bite of chocolate that's neither too bitter nor too sweet.
That moment,
were I to capture it,
and bottle the feeling,
is precisely what it feels like,
to embrace you.
 Nov 2017
Scottie Green
I hate to run into you
Because then your face sticks in my head
A good three days after I was done
Almost forgetting you

At least the eyes do
Brown, and impatient like a puppy
I was right
At least the lips do
That I hang from
Every word,
Breath,
Silence they partake in
And conversation they refrain from

The way you lean back casually
And your button up opens to your chest
More manly than what I've ever been with
Soft hair
And a bit less worn than my fathers, but just as warm

You called me a friend
As I saw the only tattoos
That you couldn't hide
 Nov 2017
Jake
I wander through my town in the same way I want to wander this earth.
Walking down every street silently observing waiving at familiar faces as they drive past.
I don't know how long I'll wander like this.
But I can only assume it will happen when I find a home better than a worn out pair of sneakers and an old leather jacket.
Unlikely.
 Nov 2017
Amber K
You gave me your jacket on a cold day
When you saw how I was shivering and miserable
"Take this"
And you smiled as you handed me your dark grey jacket

I wore it
And instantly felt the warmth
Not only from the jacket
But from the kindness you showed someone like me

I still have the jacket
Lying to you saying, "I left it at home again"
You still tell me that it's okay for me to keep it
And I dunno why but I always tell you that I'll bring it the next time

I guess I still want to keep the jacket
I wear it when I feel lonely or sad
But also want your scent on it again
The smell of you and your favourite deodorant... it comforts me for some reason

I'm giving it back to you tomorrow
So you can wear it again
And then I'll find a way to trick you
Into giving it back to me
Poem for a guy I like... still can't tell him though... *sigh*

I finally found my style after failing so much on my own ^^ I seem to like love poems

I dunno why but I just love his scent... I'm weird :p

Yes, a tag is snow-kid. Shh
 Nov 2017
Emily Rene
I miss how we used to be,
So vibrant, so honest, so wild & free

I miss the way you would understand,
Listen carefully, & be there when I needed a hand

I miss our long, random talks at night,
Our private conversations, our silly little fights

I miss the way you could read my mind,
Know what to say, when words are hard to find

I miss the way you could brighten my day,
Make me forget the mistakes, make the pain go away

I miss how you made me laugh,
I hate how you make me cry

Loved how you said you'd always be there & so did I,
But to you, everything that I say is just a lie
I ****** up, but what's new?
 Nov 2017
Fox Brandon Briggs
The stones in my shoes remind me of you
A reflection of my regrets and failures
We'd talk endlessly
About nothing really
Just the perfect fairy tale we built in our own heads
I fell for your spell your deceptive nature worked so well
Like a lamb to the slaughter
You lead my like the piper hypnotized by words and lies
You built me up to bring me down from the safety of your screen
You became my world my everything my refuge from reality
A faceless voice behind a screen
A touch without feeling
You fed my dreams and desires until I couldn't eat no more
I let down my defence's
You seiged my castle walls
While I was battling a dragon in my own halls
But how was I to know you where only there to let the dragon in
You're the witch not the heroine
You made me believe I was weak and needed saving
You're the nightmare in my fairy tale
You're the wolf in my bed but this time I'll take off your head
 Nov 2017
haylee beckim
I know others live worse than I, but in todays society I cant help but long for the picture perfect family ideal. A mom and a dad together, and a happy kid. It seems that all my parents and I are now are distant friends who can make a little time to visit every now and then.
And my grandparents do the best they can in which I am forever thankful for, but it does not fill the hole that is the ideal of togetherness, reliability and loyalty.
 Nov 2017
vxliangkylie
if depression - an absence of feelings,
the sadness that holds no tears,
the pain that calls no hope,
the change that i did not prepare for.
can be called a phase...

does that mean love - a presence of feelings ,
the happiness that fools your soul
the joy that overwhelms your mind,  
the euphoria that alludes to insanity,
can be called a phase too?
and around every corner in the dark
I keep hearing your name
strung together like a haunted voice from my past
again and again
sugh
 Nov 2017
riwa
if i were to die tomorrow,
would you wish that you had gotten the chance to kiss me one last time?
would you wish that you had forgiven me, and told me you loved me?
would you wish that we had had the time to fix things?
i think about this a lot, and i know that if you were to die (god forbid) i would regret not making sure you knew how much i love you

(6.11.17)
 Nov 2017
riwa
why don’t you ever call me anymore?
you used to...
every night.
and we’d lay there and talk to each other on the phone
for hours.
sometimes,
we wouldn’t even talk;
it would just be radio silence,
but even just knowing that we had each other on the other end of the line was comforting .
it was a nice silence.

and when we did talk
it was about everything we could think of
school, our families, us,
whatever it was
you always knew how to keep me talking

but now i don’t even know what to say to you.
you’ve made it clear how much you don’t care anymore,
but all i want is a phone call.
so we can talk like we used to.
so we can not talk like we used to.
please call.

(5.11.17)
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