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 Dec 2020 Moe
SimPrey
she came into my life
she came with a smile.
she took some steps ahead,
to walk with me some miles.

she is not mine
no, I just can't claim,
she is just a beautiful moment
in my living aim.

she is just a piece of beauty
under the sky blue.
she drops in, in my heart
like the fresh morning dew.

Her love lies elsewhere,
she has no option to choose.
I know someday would come,
when to her I am gonna lose.

A day will surely come
when true will be my fear.
that will be the day
when she would surely disappear.

I will search her in the woods,
I will search her in the sky,
I will want to be my side
when I die.

she is so kind and beautiful
as peaceful as a dove
we share a true meaning of
An inspiration of true love.
The poem was written for me on 10th December 2014 by the one who was my enemy. since the meaning of my name in Hindi Preyrana is an inspiration. by publishing this I finally forgive him and wish him all the best for life.
 Sep 2020 Moe
Vee
Why do you
always
let me hear
your melody
If you never
let me read
the lyrics?
Why do you
always
come to me
If you never
stay?
I want to swim
but you keep me
floating
upon the surface.
 Dec 2019 Moe
Nilia Loh
Shades of purple,
Taped with love.
Royal blood,
Within common veins.
Clothed like any,
Walked like many.
Unaware that
you are worthy.
Deeply loved.
Deeply cared for.
You are worth more than
diamonds and gold.
Made to be royalty,
Made to be so much more.
 Jul 2019 Moe
Adreishka Luciano
Letters.
Necklaces.
A ring.  
A bear.
A rose.
A card.
A hat.
A hoodie.

In a box

A noose.
A knife.
A gun.
Some pills.

My last resorts

You
 Jun 2019 Moe
Katinka
You and Me
 Jun 2019 Moe
Katinka
You
the one with messy brown hair
brown eyes
with you birthmark over the left side of your face.
You who left me crying.
You who made me believe in love for the first time.
You who stole my first kiss
first time
first.

You
with your straight blonde hair
blue eyes
and that stupid smirk
You who left me broken
You who showed me a new way of living
You who left me being second choice
second best
second.

You
with your dark blonde hair
hazel eyes
you with your beautiful hands
You who left me angry
You who showed me a different way of love
You who went with me on my third concert
third love
third.

You
with your curly brown hair
hazel eyes
with your cute braces you never liked
You who left me questioning
You who showed how hard love can be
You who decided I wasn´t worth it
You never happend
We never did.

I
with wavy dark brown hair
hazel eyes
with freckles on my face

I who loved everyone of you
but still couldnt forget you,
number two

I who loved everyone of you
but you left me wanting more,
number four

I who loved everyone of you
was being loved.
but not anymore.
Usally I write my poems on paper first, and then I will reread them and think about them, may make some changes and then upload them here. But in this very second I am just so full of emotion that I want to write and I want it to be honest so no rereading or correcting. Just me.
 Jun 2019 Moe
Isabella Howard
We met in December

Locked eyes and fell instantly.


I never liked the cold.


But I liked the late nights.

Talking.

Whispering secrets in the in-between

Or sharing looks of longing.

Quietly.


I never liked the cold.


You say winter makes it worse.

That it reminds you of growing up.

A turning point.

Trading blows instead of cards,

Where baseball bats

Aren't used

For baseball

Anymore.

I never liked the cold.

And my heart tore

When you showed me the pills lining your pockets.

"Just in case,"

You would say

"I need a quick escape,"

And I never knew

I could feel so numb

As when they called

And said what you had done.

That you were gone.


I never liked the cold.


But I really liked you.
 Jun 2019 Moe
Aaron Michael Brown
I pretend
she
is sleeping
here
beside me
when
I lie
awake at
night.
 Jun 2019 Moe
Amber S
I have been obsessed with staring at people’s ring fingers. I have been obsessed with seeing if there are rings, and if there are, why? And if there isn’t, why? I have been obsessed with the concept of marriage. Of babies. Of living together forever and ever with just one person.

The thought tastes like milk washed down with soap. But I cannot stop staring at people’s hands. I want to ask how they knew. Was there a switch that was flipped? Was there music loud and thudding in their ears? How did they know that when they’re old with wrinkles under their eyes they’ll still want to kiss the other’s lips?

I check off my lovers with a sharpie on my wrists. I wonder if any of them thought I was the one. The sharpie bleeds and stains my shirt. A man told me once he loved me within a month of knowing me. Was that true, never ending love? He left cigarette ash in my car and didn’t know where to put his fingers. He had wanted a house, a kid, a dog.

In coffee shops, in grocery stores, in hallways, I am staring at people’s fingers. Some are smudged, some are dry with peeling skin, some are softly pink, and when I see the golden or silver bands milky soap sits underneath my throat.

I am checking my wrists.
 Jun 2019 Moe
Tabbie Cat
My head is  full of little things
a patchwork quilt of ramblings
a single thread strings together tales of personal history
an intricately constructed story life is showing me
At night I am cradled entirely
I slip and fall subconsciously
Sinking past my foggy memory
I find myself diving deeply into my soul
down where I have started exploring the catacombs  of yesteryear
I dig up a blue shoe
It was something I left you  
a remembrance
Words that never have been said but letters that touch your soul
On long walks do you remember me
 Jun 2019 Moe
Kora Sani
i anchor
myself
to the back
of your mind
you wish
me away
but here
i still linger
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