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 Dec 2020 Frank F
jl
Crush
 Dec 2020 Frank F
jl
Late night texts
Sleepy eyes
Small smiles
Butterflies

Stolen moments
Held inside
Beating heart
Stupefied

~

Left alone
Tear filled eyes
Chapped lips
Scarred thighs

Empty promises
Cast aside
Broken heart
Terrified

~j.l.
there's a reason why its called a crush
 Dec 2020 Frank F
A Poet
Every second I wished you dead,
after you touched me,
each stroke
reducing me
. . . human. . .
. . . animal. .  .
. . . worthless . . .

you died,
at the funeral,
  I did not cry,
but I did not want you to rot,
I did not want you to burn,
I did not want to shout from the pew,
I was worthless,
at that time I was five,
but now I am fine,
I guess this feeling
is forgiveness not for you
but for me.


↫↫↫↫↫ FㄖяⓖⓘVє𝐧ᵉŜS ↬↬↬↬↬
 Dec 2020 Frank F
R L
angel
 Dec 2020 Frank F
R L
she laughed and cried,
she lived then died,
she walked and now flies,
an angel inside,
her soul made of light,
that the people destroyed,
she was once an angel,
but now a devil employed
 Dec 2020 Frank F
noelle
the hurt
 Dec 2020 Frank F
noelle
every day i crave the pain
of my legs stinging

every day i crave the colors
of black and blue

but i try not to
for you
 Dec 2020 Frank F
yúyīn
Tired..
 Dec 2020 Frank F
yúyīn
JJsbdksndkkdmxmjshJustletmediemmmkbhbxjdnxnbdjxbdnxnnxnxnImsotire­dofthisnsjs nkksbdndnbdthese tears wontstopjdjdnn znjsnndudndkdknfkdmssnfnjdndnndbdbdbdnWhythepainstilllivesin myheartjjxnxjxjdn mykdjdvjsndjcjndndncnxkxnkxndkdkjdnskxhjshdjddndeImsofuckingtired­msnndksnxonshxidnkxndjsjdbjdkslmsndjjdbdisbdjjdksndjdhbsndnndjdjd­ndnd


Youllneverunderstand me
@.**
𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼
𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻
𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲
𝗮𝗻𝗱
𝗱
      𝗿
𝗼
          𝘄
𝗻
𝗺𝗲.
𝘈 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: 𝘐𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘺.
 Dec 2020 Frank F
Larissa Frost
I don’t know
What ails the angels
Maybe they are tired
Of trying to guard me
And save me
From my demons
I picture them exhausted,
On a street curb
Smoking a Marlboro
Menthol
Begging for rest.
Maybe that’s what ails
The angels.

                             -L. Frost
 Dec 2020 Frank F
clmathew
Longing for the sun
written March 6th, 2020

Do vampires long for the sun?

Do they sit in their safe shade
and reach a pale cold finger
towards the brightness of the sun?

Do they dream of standing in the open
faces turned upwards towards a sun so bright
they have to close their eyes?

Do they lift their arms
in sun salutations
adoring the sun?

Do they yearn to feel the sun
touching every inch
of their naked skin?

Do they paint
picture after picture
of worlds filled with sun?

Do vampires long for the sun?
I am often stuck inside. I go through decades of my life where the only way I get outside is with my hubby. About a year ago, it had rained for weeks. There were 2 days predicted for sun, and hubby was working all of both of them. I cried and shut the blinds and tried to pretend it wasn't sunny out. I just couldn't get outside on my own then. Now, the last poem I posted, was about me actually walking outside, on my own, in the sun and the shadows. I'm not thrilled with the vampire imagery in this poem, but who except maybe a vampire, could understand how badly I wanted to be outside in the sun.
 Dec 2020 Frank F
Kafka Joint
Two black boxes put together
Are creating a black hole,
With flying colours inside.
 Dec 2020 Frank F
Gabriel burnS
The light tail of the tail light leaves me blue in the dark hues
… when it carries away what I belong to…
Unfolding the tar-black sky of asphalt, the longest arm of missing you…
My body is now the distance between us, big and empty,
The bigger, the emptier, thinner than air…
As time piles up, my ladders turn into pointless meters
Measuring the ratio of nothing in everything
...telltale
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