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Egg Sep 2018
I thought that we were two cars
driving too fast in opposite directions.
Destined to drive
in hopeless, helpless circles

I thought that you were going to leave me waiting for you
on the side of the road
But when it all seemed so bleak
And your taillights disappeared from view
And tears like ice dripped down my cheeks
I saw the fading light stall.

A heart changing directions
And you came back.
Two hands holding onto different ways to say "I miss you."

I recognized both.
Welcome back.
I love you.

You came back, and I know
I know that we are two cars
And sometimes we will head in different directions
But we will always head back for home

Arms full of
Welcome back
and hearts full of

I love you.
  Sep 2018 Egg
Alex Heckman
I can see cleary the scene where we first met
I feel the warmth of your smile
I hear the glee in your voice
I am entangled in the thought of you
And when I saw you walk towards me
I felt as if the heavens blessed me with an angel
And When I saw you walk past me, I knew I was only in your path.
I am entangled in the thought of you, and why I am unwanted.
I hear the silence in your void, your words are never for me.
I feel the darkeness settle over me again, where it always is.
I can see clearly the scene where we last met.
Discarded. Forgotten. Unwelcome. Me.
Egg Aug 2018
you used to be an ocean,
with deep entrapping billows of sweet syrupy air
Yes, you used to be an ocean.

I can recall days I spent
drunk on the wave of your hand
intoxicated by the ebb and flow of your tide.
Days when my tongue tasted the bite of brine
and begged for more.

To be pulled back to your current.
You used to be an ocean
and I used to be afraid.

So afraid of losing you that I would have gone out
into the distant offing
and Drowned.

Drowned on the constant flux of you.

You used to be an ocean.
  Aug 2018 Egg
Rohan P
i don't
know you anymore; i

i am

pink sky,
     red-tipped flames
i cut the forest in
Egg Aug 2018
I have digested the thought
of what it would mean
To lose you,
Or even just one memory of you.

I have chewed the bone
And ****** the marrow
on the mention of your absence.

And I have thought of how pitiful I would be.

Study the anatomy of me.
Find a tree.
branches reaching high and strong
To show the world how green the earth can be.
Trunk, sturdy and steady, to stand and keep standing.
Find feeling in the roots.

In the memory of us
In those I've held
And those who have held me.

Digest it.
Breathe it in.
Nurture the nuance
and open your eyes.

Do not pity the pained who have loved,
Pity the loveless that live unscathed.

Study the anatomy of me,
Find my heart,
A garden in my chest, each flower from those hearts I've held.
I thought there was more to that title than all that the original peom said.
Egg Aug 2018
It is a wonder to hold the heart
of someone you have never held.

Where their hands have kneaded
your words.
Dough to soften
And rise.

A poet holds a thousand hearts
or maybe only one

Pen poised, and writing
Whatever words will wield.
Their grip can be so vicious
or perhaps so sweet and soft.

And whatever that grip may be,
they hold hearts,
To tear or twist,
Or tenderly touch.

A poet holds a thousand hearts.
Of those they've never held.
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