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m Jan 31
seems it has been quite
quite longer than
eleven weeks
since we last spoke
i'm sure that on this early morning
you're only sleeping
but i'd like to share
some basic ideas
Perhaps you
can't forget it all
in fact

it might be the sad reality
that all you can do
is reflect on
a good old memory

the simple memories that you hold
and seem to also run through my head
even if i refuse, the inevitable rises
that i must accept those
precious hours
we had
and it seems that
i like to reference songs in
all of my reminiscence
through this incoherent series
of run-on sentences

to answer your questions
do you want answers?
at least now
after all this time
quite longer than
eleven weeks
since we last spoke?
or may i leave your questions
as mysteries of your poem?
the answers
can only be guessed

or logically
we do know
what happened this year
and it seems that
i took you
as far as you could go
hugs are nice
so embrace the hugs
selfishness is a construct

you can't be afraid
to care for yourself
and explore
your desires
i'm sorry i didn't stay
why would an affair
be needed
to visit you?
well, i sure hope
my lacking presence
doesn't wrack your brain anymore
I'm sorry.
I'm fine. How are you?
By the way, did you get detention?
Sorry for the late answer.
why did i stay up for 2 hours writing these bad poems

you should listen to olli:
listen to
and my life turned around
you'll disappear
all i could say was, "hello"
before you wake up
i try not to think about it
fading into a crowd
warm hands
the big picture
good morning, me
it's gonna be fine, i promise
attachment therapy
(warning they might be sad)
m Jan 31
love love dove
the dove fell far
love love dove
burned to a char

craven craven raven
again rose a star
craven craven raven
picked at your scar

vain vain crane
full of empty words
vain vain crane
of the foolish birds

wail wail quail
a dying creed
well well quail
a time to bleed

a time that ends
the pain of past
a wound that mends
has been passed

i cannot lie
the pain i felt
with our goodbye
oh i could melt

i'm truly sorry
about the necromancer
the love which you gave
to the poor romancer

were you brought
back from the dead?
if so, then please
live and not dread

look on and not dread
the memories
that your mind must tread
got the lucky opportunity to read some poems i'd never seen by you
sorry i read them
i hope that the necromancy worked. maybe you can consider the necromancer the person who just helped you rise up and move forward...
i felt like writing a ****** poem what can i say
m Aug 2018
I ponder
I wander
The dark grey ocean
Of past, present
And destiny

I wallow in
wounds for
which i must suture
I think on the future
a light in the deep
i think it’s called love
I look from above
it’s so hard to reach
in this
dark grey ocean

She makes me so
I’m not a

Call it weakness
or lack of will
i can never defeat
what makes me so ill

Even so
i’ll never reconsider

I can try and ignore
the pain
worth the gain
in this
dark grey ocean
she calls me sock

— The End —