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Lost for words Nov 2009
Call a                          doctor/ plumber/ priest
My heart is               broken/ leaking/ deceased

My life is                   worthless/ so much better/ over
I'm going to              **** myself/ tell your wife/ Dover

How could you         leave me/ not know/ lie?
I hope you                return my stuff/ come back/ die

I'll never                   forget you/ forgive you/ go away
I need                        closure/ a DNA test/ to tell you I'm gay

Your                           face/ crotch/ top of your back
Is                                so beautiful/ lumpy/ unusually slack

Your                           ex/ mother/ best friend from school
Always made me      great coffee/ feel inadequate/ drool

I will                           miss you/ **** you/ stalk you forever
That way we can      be friends/ get away with it/ be together

I'm sorry                   you did this/ I did this /we failed
I promise to               pay you/ dye it back/ get you bailed
Please don't               leave me/ show the Polaroids/ write or call


(*delete as appropriate, just delete it all.....)
Nicholas Mar 2019
Scattered across my bedroom floor,
glimmers of light staccato on wilted rose pedals

Memories of us, 
the faintest slapback of the person I was with you,
flicker with lethargic buoyancy 

Fondness for fondness sake,
denial as a delicacy

Your face, obscured in these floral polaroids
Impressions of who you were;
what you meant to me,
a struggle to behold
but recognizable in ripples across the faces of others

Remains of an entanglement that seemed to answer
why the universe was even formed to begin with

This omnipresent truth laying abed the other
jagged reality of our affair;
it was never you,
it was my self-possessing pursuit of wholeness
Musings on the idea that love can be a very selfish act and that, in it's absence, we sometimes look back on a former relationship, not because we still love or miss that person, but because we love/miss the way that person made us feel about ourselves.
Nessa dieR  May 2016
Polaroids
Nessa dieR May 2016
Photos haunt me like the souls of fresh corpses
memories
Victims of time.
The ink poured and pooled on my floor
Smiles vanishing past all the gore.
Polaroids, Polaroids
Help Me Forget!
Loving him was my biggest regret.
Madhurima  Oct 2014
Reminded
Madhurima Oct 2014
The sea, endless, magnificent blue
Reminds me of your deep swirling eyes
Looking at me with mischievous love
Reflecting the big, open skies

The stars of the dark night
Remind me of the scars dotted on your skin
Painting your body in loose touches
Polaroids of everywhere you've been

The Sun, in its bright glory
Reminds me of your smile
Radiating, powerful, from cheek to cheek
Sadly, I haven't seen it in a while.

And finally, I must say, my love
I realize, as I finish this verse
Before, I saw the universe in you
*Now, I see you in the universe
I don't know but yeah.
s  Feb 2014
Faded Polaroids
s Feb 2014
A background noise
A slight ringing in your ears
Just enough to be annoying
But not enough to keep your attention.

Today I decided to climb up the shelves
in the closet in your bedroom
and sit next to the box of faded polaroids
you pretend don't exist anymore.

Except I broke the shelf and the box fell
and the contents spilled all over the floor
along with your words about how I am
always making stupid decisions.

I said I'd clean it up but I got distracted
by a certain faded polaroid that I swear was me.
1989- 16 years old it read and you looked
like you've never hated anything more than that camera.

It was then I realized your contempt is not towards me
but the fact that I remind you of yourself and you
have spent your whole life trying to escape what you
felt at sixteen.

I am sorry I followed in your footsteps
but you never taught me how not to.
Throw me back up on the shelf with
the rest of your faded polaroids.
the good things in life seem to stay;
like the color yellow, or a warm summer's day
waking up early, running barefoot in grass
feeling the morning dew brush past

hearing the twinkle of an ice cream truck
if you go, you'll catch it, with luck
eating a popsicle as the sun beats down
riding a bike through a small playground

when dusk comes, once again
we're swimming at night and playing with friends
lighting sparklers that shine brighter than stars
popping cap guns you could hear from afar

running barefoot right down the street
giving the neighborhood dog a treat
taking polaroids like the pictures will stay
but lost them then, by the next summer day

watching as fog rolls slowly ahead
the sun goes down, so time for bed
excitement and thrill, time for a sleepover
the day, for now, will never be over!

karaoke on beds at the crack midnight
crashes of thunder, scary stories, and fright!
still, pretty soon,  we get used to it
or in the summer, it all happens quick

never sleeping, don't want it to end
even though there's the weekdays and weekend
glowing lights hang above the bed
sleepy eyes remind us dumb things said

summer, now, doesn't last forever
even if we must change the weather
we must savor it, you and me
and kiss summer hello thrillfully!
i'm so ready for summer! this is just a little peak how most of my summers go!
Jenna Richardson Feb 2012
I think in family photos.
Always looking behind plastered smiles
and matching wool sweaters.
I think in mirrors.
Reflecting the person standing before me
searching for themselves in my eyes.
I think like a schizophrenic.
Deafening skepticism ringing through my ears.
I think in exotic dances.
Colorful and twisting
feeling every nerve in my body shiver.
I think like sushi.
In cold foreign textures sliding down your throat.
I think in Polaroids.
Remembering you the day you changed
before my resentful eyes.

— The End —