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Dear {Deadname},
It's been a while, I'm sorry. I don't know if you want me to write to you, or if you want me to just talk. Maybe you don't even want that, I don't know. Maybe you just want me to show you how much I love you physically. (I don't mind any of that.) It's okay. Take your time to figure it out. Love's a weird thing. So is writing to you. Don't get me wrong, I love it, but it's different now you're mine. The world changed, in a good way, but even good changes are different. I know that I want to love you. I just don't quite now how to love you yet, but I'll figure it out. We'll figure it out. Maybe it's kissing you every day, maybe it's writing a letter every night. Maybe it's both, or none at all. Love is not 'a thing.' It's different every single time. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. You have needs, things you want. So do I. I don't think I know you that well, and that's alright. (I hope...) I wanna get to know you. In every way. I don't know how. I don't know what the meaning of this letter is, but maybe that's the meaning.
Forever yours
Sincerely, Me
Guilty Nov 2019
You say you'll kiss me,
You say you'll dare.
But when I can finally touch you,
You don't wanna be there
Masha Yurkevich May 2019
I challenge
all those who want to try
to write a
6 word memoir.

Example: Life is short. Make it fair.
Be that one bright shining star.
Friends. Family. The candles of life.
Be that crow in the seagulls.
I was doing this for class not to long ago and just wanted to see what my fellow poets could come up with.
Six feet under,
Down the drain.
Lie my feelings,
Is my luck.
Six feet under,
Under this dirt.
Is my hapiness,
Is my love.
Six feet under,
Or hidden anywhere.
Depression is here,
Right inside me.
Six feet under,
Where we live.
I try to
Cover this sadness.
Six feet under.
I try to hide,
Alcohol, Drugs, Cigarettes.
I'm slowly suffocating.
I write a small poem every dat, about how I feel or the world around me. This is #7
gabrielle Feb 2019
s t a y   o n   g r o u n d
e v e n   w h e n   y o u ' v e   r e a c h e d
t h e   f a r t h e s t
fact 5 - i want to make a book, i mean i already finished the contents of it,  a poetry collection and i want to make a manuscript out of it..... but i don't know how to make a manuscript :((
Everything I see,
Turns into ideas.
Poems, paintings,
Music, art.
My life is full,
Drafts everywhere.
Surrounded by
Undone paintings.
I Sometimes
Have to,
Clean it all up.
Delete, Erase,
Rip apart.
So you can go now.
I don't need you,
You're a
Worthless idea.
It's all

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I'm writing a small poem every day, about how I feel or the world around me. This is #6
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