ar 4d

sent 2:41 am
delivered 2:41 am

read 2:43 am

left on read once again..

I'm not a well you can just keep drawing water from
I'm not the sky because the rain will not always come

I'm not the earth, I am the opposite
I am a man, I am alive

And I'm in love or could've been
If it hadn't taken you this long to try

*head shake*
Ryan Kirby Aug 1

Good morning!

I wonder,
I say,
I crack
eggs to splay -
open on ham-fat,
cast iron

"Good morning's!"
I wonder.

"Good morning!"
I say.

Good day,
cast-iron mourn!

[Coming downstairs.]
Elin Roberts Jul 31

my heart hurts

i don't know who i am anymore
i don't know my face when i look in the mirror

distorted and unclear
a forgotten dream of happiness in a storm of disappointment

who am i ?
where do i belong ?
god knows .

but in reality
not even god knows

i'll find myself one day
Elin Roberts Jul 26

i'm on about myself of course
according to you that's always the case
but you know what?
fuck it

selfishness is a way of life at times boy
and wouldn't you just know it's true
mr high and mighty, sat in your ivory tower
judgement cold and unforgiving

the real question though
is were you ever capable of love?
oh wait
we both know the answer to that

slowly freeing myself
madyson shaye Jul 24


There's very few sentences that can sum me up
as well as if I was to tell you
that sometimes-
when the day takes too long or the night ends too quick
when the pain of the last few makes me feel like I'll never love again
or when Iron & Wine starts playing again when it's much too late for that,
then by saying sometimes
I still cry about a girl I never even got to touch.
I lost the chance years ago, but I'm still here writing about her.
for me, that means:
I am resilient. I will love you until the end of time, even if I don't know you.
I don't know when enough is enough. giving up is something I never learned how to do, and my expiration date was marked the second she took her call. knew that then, still do now.

I see clearer now than I ever have before, but I look around and I wonder what it's like to be found.

I almost got to touch her, once or twice, but I just laid in her sheets and wondered if I did it now, if it'd hurt worse later.
if I do this now, if I put it into words, will it still hurt me in the morning?
I'll never find an easier way to let you in on what the inside of my body looks like than by telling you that I still cry for a girl I never even touched.
I'm not sure you know what I mean by that.

Atul Kaushal Jul 22

But it doesn't imply my falsehood,
Under the wicked sky I live,
Truly unruly my life is right now.

I am very much incompatible.

And not just with herself,
Maybe with everybody else.

Hard are the days alone,
Ageing I'm but gracefully,
Perhaps I'm best left single,
Pouting is an opportunity,
Yes it is inviting me too.

Bask in the calm sunlight,
Ending is another phase,
Indeed this is satisfying,
Nightmares are fading,
Giving me happiness.

Sorry I'm not about her,
I am no-one to crib,
Not about her studies,
Gleeful I must remain,
Long life brings smiles,
Era of my life is common.

My HP Poem #1632
©Atul Kaushal
Kate Gilleo Jul 22

It's three in the morning
The mourning hour
The hour where naught is awake but
Lovers and dreamers
And those deemed too far gone by the rest of us
To which we send a wilting flower.

It's three in the morning
The mourning hour
And I sit upon a lush coven of cotton and broken dreams
And peer into the crisp, aging pages of a crisp, aging story
To dissolve away the alms that haunt my hollow tower.

It's three in the morning
The mourning hour
And I mourn
I mourn the loss of love
And the loss of hope
I mourn a loss I have known so well
As well as a loss I have never myself felt
Tied, side by side, in a waking melancholy sour.

It's three in the morning
The mourning hour
And doves less mournful than I have passed on to sleep
And he, as I dream, is far away and dead to me
Still dear to me
And I reach out, into the darkness of the night
And end the mourning hour.

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