Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Keren Oct 2017
On a self-seeking desire to have someone
who I can vent my rumination
I stumble accross your name,
For a long time, I felt being resilient again

Despite wires tangled in my fingers,
I barely reached the button where we can connect
As if it was freed from decades of being chained.
And there is more here, you noticed me.

Your message betokened glimpses of a pensive mood,
Unlocked a door of your concealed emotions,
Lamps started to light up again from the sky
This is my arrival to your gloomy life.

I promise to never leave.
After a long time, I was able to scribble for someone again. This is for you, you.
  Mar 2017 Keren
Ann M Johnson
Why do I lay my burdens down only to go and pick them up again
I have recently been facing some prolonged medical issues.
Keren Oct 2016
Lying on the bermuda grass
gazing at the stars,
we planned for our future
as if it's only a call away.

I remembered how you asked me,
"Why arent you writing anymore?"
And i sniffed, "Got no inspiration"
You kept silent, we had a fight that day.

And now Im alone,
Remembering where it went wrong
Like a strike of a lightning into a forbidden tree
I wasnt quite sure of the answer

All I know is that,
I lost the poet in me
When I found the love I am longing...

in you.

That's what love has taught me:
For you, my love.
  Sep 2016 Keren
Akhil Kumar
She talked about my poetry all the time
And she was my poetry all about

  Sep 2016 Keren
May Asher
Don't wait, I'm not coming home.
Someday you'll forget me
and I'll forget you.
Don't search for me,
I'm lost.
This emotion is absurdly bitter,
biting into my paper veins; gnashing.
You won't know where I've bled.
Someday, you'll forget my voice
and I'll forget yours.
This moment is a void
flooding with intangible vacuum.
My lungs are ripped open,
did you know how it feels to die?
Don't forget we counted stars
of the starless sky.
I'm drowning but it doesn't matter,
it's not like I can breathe
anymore anyway.
Don't forget you used to tell
bedtimes stories to ghosts
when you thought I fell asleep;
with your hand in mine
the way sun fits into skies
that are not his home.
The miles I've walked away
mean nothing because
I'll turn around and run to you again.
Don't forget I gifted you
the other half of my dream
because you said
you could never dream.
Someday I'll forget
the touch of your fingertips
against mine
and you'll forget mine.
I'm a kaleidoscope spinning
without direction,
shattering and falling
into shards
like a screaming avalanche.
I'm glacial bones,
someday you'll forget
the coldness of my eyes
and I'll forget yours.
The azure of the sky merging
into orange of sun
is only because
they've learned
to be together
and conjure another color.
You and I are oil paints
splattered on black canvas,
a dark vastness
they can't measure.
Someday I'll forget
the number of your scars
and you'll forget mine.
You're stubborn and beautiful,
you'd say you want to take a dive
into the clouds and fly into cliffs.
We're inverted images,
never fitting into each other.
But you're in the mirror
and I'm stumbling into the void.
But you're eyes are still cerulean blue,
mine are still emerald green.
I'll never forget
the soprano of my voice
melting in the tenor of yours.
I'll never forget touch
of your fingertips
through glass doors
or concrete walls.
You'd forget that I still remember
when you told me I'm so deep.
I'm so deep, I drowned you
and you're still gasping for breath,
even after all these years,
I'd know you'll never forget
the precise lengths of my scars.
Next page