Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I wish it had been my soul that
was stolen, not you—
That I had died before
you slipped away from me
What storm,
what havoc could ever
tear you from within me?
No trick of memory,
no phantom thief of mind
Dares to pry you loose,
though I bleed in the struggle—
Struggling so fierce
I nearly cradle
death’s cold embrace,
Walking barefoot
across a sea of my
own shattered soul,
Until I stand where
neither you nor I can reach—
Where tides of memory
drown and hope is lost—
I am ready to
surrender life itself,
If only to forget you
forevermore
The days of truth or dare
Sparked then faded
Into smoke

Daily
Turned to scarcely
And helplessly
I watched you flicker

Things were just getting better
You came back!
Then disappeared
All together

Now
I watch the suicide numbers
Rise
And fear that you’re one of them

I never wished you happy birthday
That Sunday
Like I promised I would
Did I?
Her gmail and patron page are both gone.
RobbieG 3d
Beauty may appear ugly,
if you don’t look closely.
Without willing admiration, Heaven could go unnoticed.
Are we guilty, of only seeing
what we predetermine?

Beauty may appear pretty,
if you look closely.
With willing admiration,
Heaven couldn’t go unnoticed.
Are we guilty, of only seeing
what we look for?

Ugly or pretty, with or without,
could or couldn’t, predetermined or sought after, none of this matters because…
Without any thoughts or willingness, she captured my hidden eyes,
with feelings found!
white
buffelo
clouds
tall
switchgrass
that
tickle
the
ocean blue
sky
but
underneath
the
other
domain
the
wild
prairie plains
Hey 3d
The steady rhythm that keeps my heart true
A beat like listening to each drum
Each strum of a guitar
Each chord sung
Somehow fixes everything
Allowing escape for the estranged
C F 3d
Don't give me your truths,
from all of them I'll only reveal,
My heart has become a wound
that we can't ever heal.

These secrets, out of em all
yours feel like chains,
I'll break under pressure

A quiet catastrophe,
Time is a fleeting treasure.
Pho 3d
your name rots
in my mouth.
still, it grows vines
that strangle my tongue
when i try to forget.
Next page