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  Aug 2015 Kwanele
Kendra Lynn
I am here
To share my words
To give my verse
  Aug 2015 Kwanele
A Lopez
He went off
With another, I'm here
I needed a friend
He left me to tear's.
They say time
Can heal all wound's,
Though why did you go
To her? The wrong move.
Your woman here loved you
I was thrown to your back outing
Who am I to you
A slutty girl shouting?
I'm not your others
Though you contend you are the best man for me
I was stunned to notice
Your just
A fool
Like me.
  Aug 2015 Kwanele
Patricia Nicole
Sooner or later,
I’ll be forgotten,

Forgotten by you.

And everything

That was there,

And everything

That was ours,

Will turn into nothing

In the end.
  Aug 2015 Kwanele
berry
right now there are eleven empty containers of alcohol in my bedroom,
but it's fine, i'm fine.
i've been telling myself for more than a year
that i wasn't going to write anymore sad ****** poems about you,
but here we are.
most days i'm sure i don't miss you,
but then i listen to the wrong song,
and before i know it -
i'm screaming along to band of horses in the dark,
stalking your twitter favorites,
and somehow,
i've managed to get snot on my forehead.
yeah, nostalgia is an *******
but not all the memories sting.
there was that one time we went to the movies
and i slipped on some ice and fell flat on my ***.
i just sat there while you took a picture.
but i'm glad we could laugh about it.
i'm glad we were comfortable.
in my head, we still are.
in my head, we're oversized-goodwill-sweater comfortable.
we aren't as comfortable in real life
but i'm glad we still laugh.
this is the part where i don't bring up the time you told me
my laughter could cure your sadness,
because i'm pretty sure i already put that in another poem,
and it makes me really ******* sad.
did i ever tell you i used to play guitar and piano?
i loved them, but i never tried very hard.
i wanted to be good without having to practice.
i wanted to be good without having to practice.
i wanna meet the girl you write about
so i can ask her how she manages not to love you back.
because i've tried everything & i am so tired.
i forgot this wasn't supposed to be a sad poem.
i'm not good at happy anyway,
i never have been.
but in your absence i've learned a lot about softness.
so if i ever find myself back in your passenger seat,
i won't correct you when you sing the wrong lyrics,
i won't ask why when you take the long way home.
i won't ask you why you don't have your seatbelt on,
i'll just say a silent prayer
and watch for signs that you might be about to swerve.
right now there are eleven empty containers of alcohol in my bedroom,
and i didn't find you at the bottom of a single one.

- m.f.
Kwanele Aug 2015
letter to my love.
the beauty about poetry,
  the words written in a moment can be so profoundly meant and felt and they can just about overwhelm you to the point of seeping through the cracks our slightly opened palms.
and in another moment they easily become lies spewed by a heart once in love but now broken by it, trapped in a web of lies, fingers around my neck kind of lies, snap your neck and end you kind of lies, I loved you, you made it painful for me, another empty space in this heart..
you wondered why i was afraid of falling , you did not catch me.
  Aug 2015 Kwanele
glassea
she may hurt, but she is not pain.
she may fail, but she is not a failure.
she may be tragic, but she is not tragedy.

*she may feel worthless,
but this, too, will pass.
so it's always worth reminding people (i.e. myself) that just because you feel something in the moment doesn't mean that it's permanent. an emotion is an instant, no matter how long the ache lasts, and an instant cannot define you.

(thanks for the daily!)
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