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 Dec 2016 Dreamer
Julia Mae
if people were love notes
none of us would be lonely anymore
if people bled passion
we would laugh at heartache
Break into the hallway.
See you on the stairs.
The stillness of the air.
No beauty could compare.
To the miserable girl.
Sitting there.
Her heart is down and she's already unable to repair.
What she's done to herself.
Its piece of work.

Like the harsh, harsh day and the daily grind.
It's not hard to say, lets not talk of that tonight.
I'm not here to say that you're a **** inclined.
To tell me where you were, but you're smoking here tonight.

Hard to say.
Where we went so wrong.
Hard to say.
There's nowhere to run.
But its easy to bring.
An empty plate.
And too easy to find.
An empty ******* buffet.

And we're so abscond. We're so, **** unkind.
There's no harbor here, because we're sailing blind.
If you, want to say that you're hurt inside.
I'll bring you the drinks and we'll drink to that, goodbye.

So see me here in my heavy plight.
It's gone bleak real fast, its gotten a mighty trite.
I'm not here today.
I'm here tonight.
you're still sitting here, on the stairs.
I see you there.
Heart in your hand.
Blood in your hair.
Cabinets closed.
Head on a rope.
I'm not to blame.
I had no hope.

So say, now goodbye there's no need to cry.
We were doomed from when we had tried to start.
And if you, come back home I will bring you my heart and,
We will drink to our safe and sound, night time and goodbye.

Our house is gone.
We cannot stand.
We will not beg.
We will not brag.
Love is a rough.
Life is a bare.
I'll join you soon.
Here on the stair.
Suppose to be a song
 Dec 2016 Dreamer
Cutezeni
Could Be
 Dec 2016 Dreamer
Cutezeni
Don't know what to think
When he looks at me
The way he does;
It could be love
It could be lust.

His eyes shine bright
And I like to think
That that's because of me
Or for me and only me,
It could be anything
It could be dust.

I take him with my eyes
And drink him with my soul
His flavour sweetens with every sip,
I keep craving him more and more.

He could be in love
Or he could be wrong
He could be singing
Some other song.

Don't know what makes his
Lips rhyme,
Too afraid to learn
That it could be different from mine
He can sing anything he likes
As long as he vows to stay mine.

The way he holds me
Makes me wonder
What if he could be mine
To hold forever?

I could devote stanzas
On his every quirk and feature if I could
From the gap in his teeth
To the crinkle of his nose
To the flip of his hair
To his perfectly arched brows.
Or even his flirtatious smile
Or the light in his eyes
Or his hearty laughter
Or his innocent white lies.

Not a single word
Not a poetic line
Not a verse
Can do justice to his kind.

I think it's to do
With the way he looks at me
Like he does.
It could be love,
It could be lust
It could be anything
It could be dust.
I don't have a thigh gap
My neck doesn't have a necklace or stuff like that
I wasn't born with a silver spoon
I might have feelings way to soon

I like this dude
But I don't know what to do
I wrote him a bunch of poems
I'm friends with his cousin to

But lately I've just been drifted
Thinking I'm crazy
Unworthy of love
Unworthy of his embrace and his touch

No! Wait...
It's not his fault?
It's mine
If only I worked out more often...
If only I wore more open close
Then maybe he'd want to take a dose

It's me you see?

I'm not pretty
She is...
She does what ever she please

And I'm just little odd me
Writing poems daily
In my books like crazy
Someone please change me?
<3
 Dec 2016 Dreamer
koreen
People tend to like the pretty people. Those with big eyes, cute nose, long hair and rosy cheeks. People with skinny stature, flat stomach or long legs. People who perfectly coincide with the society's standards of beauty. And she's not a pretty person. She can't make people turn their heads when she walks in the room and she can't make boys swoon with just one smile. She's the kind of person you would label as a friend but never as a lover if you're one of those who never truly sees people's worth and heck, she's a treasure, a precious gem. People are so ******* blind not to see how she's a blessing into this world. She's loving and kind and her heart is made of gold and yet she goes around offering it to strangers she meet at cheap coffee shops downtown. When she smiles, her eyes form crescent moon shapes that the night sky envies her. When she speaks, the mountains roar and the ground shakes in fear for her thoughts echo louder than any silence has. And she may not be pretty to other people, but God, she's ethereal to me.

ㅡ *
him when he was asked to describe the person he loves
 Dec 2016 Dreamer
Ju Clear
Mr president
I have a conflict of interest
I am not keen on how you go about your business
I am saddened by your big banking boys with roles
I am not sure you can run the US like a business
I feel more empathy is required

Mr president
Am still conflicted with your reign
Not over joyed by your chosen minions rolling in billions
Having money don't mean you know how to govern

Mr president
For me too take you seriously I feel you should liquidate your assets
Invest in the bottom
So all can be on top
Be kind
Give it away
you have another holiday
Put kindness in charge
Make America kind again
Kindness rules
Listening to the 5 pm news while cooking Mexican food
I have a lot of love for the broken, the tattered and torn; those who carry the burdens of a human heart.
One of my goals is to be of service to people, especially in the mental health and criminal justice field. It is a driving force within me that pushes me past my social anxiety to interact with people, extending compassion, acceptance, and most importantly, showering them with love.
 Dec 2016 Dreamer
elizabeth
Hearing words of kindness
From a stranger, a new friend,
(Or anyone for that matter)
Is a rarity these days.
I only bring pain
And disappointment,
Or at least, it seems that way.
But to hear sweet, beautiful words
From a newfound friend
It makes my heart flutter
And fills my somber mind
With joyful, blissful thoughts.
December 23, 2016.
To my newfound friend. May your days be as lovely as your words and writings.
 Dec 2016 Dreamer
nicoii
an angel has white wings because they have not been tainted by the world's colors yet.
they keep their chins held high, hand in hand in a long, unbreakable chain.

red for lust

orange for gossip

yellow for arrogance

green for jealousy

blue for depression

purple for rage

black for hatred

brown for gluttony

pink for self-consciousness

grey for hopelessness

and angels one by one become doused
and splattered
with all colors that aren't white
all different combinations
some with just one
others a rainbow
until the chain collapses
proving to be breakable
and the ones still white
grip tight to their friends and family
shaken and mortified

"protect the angels with white wings" i say proudly as my wings drip with green and blue and pink and grey.
the colors i struggle against the most.
"we couldn't make it
                         but maybe they can."
"some with just one; others a rainbow "
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