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Elsie Plum Sep 2020
Cause and effect is crazy because she could’ve done this or that but she didn’t and I didn’t and nobody didn’t.
20:19 pm
Nola Leech May 2020
At least I didn’t write a poem about him..
No one else lights my days
Not a single shadow
Just a world of color and light
My heart burned stronger than hay

No one else fills my nights
She stands shining down
As all glimmers and sparkles
Inside, she started many fights

No one else makes me think
She is different like the stars
And bright in every way
In this together we will sink
forestfaith Jul 2018
So...
A line there, and a thing there,
A circle there, and a staircase there.
A little light here, a little dust there,
A little confusion here and there.
How is this true?
This mystery.
They say it all the time, like ALL the time...I say it too.
But I don't get it...maybe they don't too.
How do I let go.
When I can't see the light.
I am really trying to get this right.
Just don't disturb me now,
as I sit and stare in this room,
trying to figure out what, how to take up room.
So that fear and excuses have no room...
Yah...still trying to figure out.
blue mercury Mar 2017
i don't know how
"i don't feel like crap when i'm with you."
morphed into
"i love you"

but i'm glad it did, and i'm glad
that you said
it back.

you said it back.
man, this is terrifying.
Anne Aug 2016
The poems you don't read
Are the poems I don't write.
The wandering thoughts and puzzle
Pieces that are never found or placed.
The urge to scream,
Or blend into a puddle of melted candy.

I know what you like.
You enjoy the colour pink and sound of pianos and feeling sad.
But the good kind of sad.

I know what you need.
You need to love yourself.
Or at least like yourself.
You need to breathe and create.
You need to dance and breathe.
Please.
Just.
Breathe.

The poems I don't type aren't raw
Or artsy or beautiful or ugly.
They are scared and lonely and everything that I can't put into words.

The poems I don't write are simultaneously the best and the worst.
I don't understand them and it terrifies me.
That's why I don't write them.
But I guess I just did; didn't I?
PS Oct 2015
I wish that I was going to Venice to be with you.
So I could stop wishing I was going to Paris to be with him.
WistfulHope Jan 2015
Twist with your wrist
The dagger into me
Red pours out
Looks like I can still bleed
You smile, I laugh
The pain sets me free
Was going to be longer, but I'm lazier than usual lately, sorry -- not sorry.
- - -
Have I ever told you guys how much I love toast?
'Cause, like, I really dig toast, ya know?
ern kingham Sep 2014
It was when you asked me if I was multiracial that I knew you only saw me skin deep.

As we danced you kept pulling me closer.

It was weird…uncomfortable


It was when you asked me if I ever had fun that I knew you wanted me to loosen up.

You held me close your hands on my thighs

It was weird…uncomfortable


It was when you asked me what I did in my free time that I thought you might care.

You kept hugging me tighter to yourself

It was weird…uncomfortable


It was when you asked me for my number that I thought about trusting you, but I didn't.

*You made me feel wanted by someone new

It was weird…uncomfortable
To the guy who danced with me at the underground college dance
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