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nathaniel Apr 2
did i ever need you?
there are days
i can't remember
the feeling
of your touch
there are days
i wish
i hadn't known it

you never needed me.
your gaze
never quite held
the same weight
as mine
your words
never quite
broke the surface

did you forget me?
do her
hands heal
the pain
mine caused
does her
love put mine
to shame

i never forgot you.
i still
stew alone
in my room
at night
i still
mourn a love
never born
another raw piece.
hopefully, i'll be out of my slump soon.
nathaniel Mar 31
i wish
i could beat you
until you are
black and blue

i wish
i could berate you
until you are deaf
to all but my screams

i wish
i could forget you
until you crawl back
desperate for more

but who would be the monster then?
nathaniel Sep 2018
august’s withered days swing from view.⠀⠀
flicker of a breeze caresses earth’s cheek.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
crinkle of a leaf, a wail beneath your feet.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
a wispy veil of dew covers the dried remains of a summer’s past.
treetops glistering, vibrant golden hues⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
first flicker of daybreak rising slowly.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
an infant’s feeble cry of autumn’s might.⠀⠀⠀
although november is my favorite month, september has always held a special place in me, even if it feels like it flies by so fast.
nathaniel Sep 2018
as you gazed upon the roses, beautiful, blooming wide,
exposing themselves for your eyes alone, petals scattered,
you spoke to me. unsatisfied.
strewed their precious worth across the dull pavement,
i began to wonder.
if i truly burst open for you, would i suffer the same fate?
if each of my petals shed away, one by one, revealing a bare stem, would my beauty remain?
every rose wilts with time.

as you looked upon the sunset, magnificent, drooping low,
dipping beneath the horizon with a final display of light, heavens shimmering,
you spoke to me. unaffected.
swiped the bristles of a blackened brush across its fading glow,
i cannot help but wonder.
if i began to fade, would your starlight illuminate my beaten path?
or would you only cast a sheet of unforgiving darkness over my vibrant, faltering hues?
every sunset fades to night.
Go easy on me, if you could.
I'm not a native English speaker, and I sure am not much of a poet.

— The End —