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Anais Vionet Sep 22
It’s 6:15pm. Peter, Anna, Sophy and I are studying in the common room of our suite.

“We need to get serious,” Peter whispered, but there was no subject in the declaration, so I was left confused and uncommitted, “about getting serious,” he clarified.

“I’m not sure I can get serious about a guy who doesn’t separate whites and darks in the laundry,” I say, gently.

“No,” he said, shaking his head in brief vibration, “we need to get serious about DINNER.”

“Oh!” I said, maybe a little too relieved.

“Ha!” He chortled, “YOU overthink everything!” He said, nodding his head up and down to prove it was true. “And speaking of laundry,” he continued, seeing me start to open my mouth, “the other night YOU asked me if your pastel purple ******* should go with the whites or darks - so I must be an EXPERT!”

I laughed at the idea of his laundry expertise, sailing in from out of the purple like that, it was haywire. “Well,” I said, becoming introspective, “I didn’t know you’d hold onto that question like a grudge,” I said, in quiet, wounded accusation, “from now ON, maybe you should stay as far away from my ******* as possible.”

“What are you two grousing about NOW?” Anna asked, looking up from her computer. “You guys are like an old married couple.”

“True THAT.” Sophie said, like a judge right before knocking her gavel to finalize a ruling.

“We weren’t arguing!” I said, looking around confusedly. I looked at Peter, who was smiling broadly, “Were we?”

“Nope,” he said, wrapping his arm around me in a bearhug, “we were flirting.”
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Haywire: “out of order or gone wrong”
neth jones May 29
air deleted from the room
vacuum    of  mausoleum  silence
violence played quiver on your lips
lids  of  eyes      made twitches
itchiness blazed over my skin
thin words introduced
' i   hate   you '
mournful
cold said   hurt true



ALLITERATION VERSION :



air
drawn deep
deleted from the room
vacuum                            
          vacancy for silence
   violence volunteers corrugations
           across your visage
triage                    
composure
betraying twitches
itches blaze over my skin
thin words induced
' i   hate   you'
mournful
cold said   hurt true
brevity homework
Katie May 5
Tears are falling
pit pat
pit pat
A single thought, uttered
From a dark place, unwanted
pit pat
pit pat
Violent, harsh, and completely unmeant
A brutal call from the void
pit pat
pit pat
I hope you can forgive me
I understand if you can't
125
Her
The touch of her hand on mine, fingers clasped tightly.
Her arms wrapped around me, squeezing the life out of me.
Her lips, soft and light as heaven's touch, they part, and
God, you always sound like an angel when you tell me you love me.

I wish I'd remember when we argue, so I can change.
I wish I didn't only remember these things after we fight, maybe things would end differently.
I'm afraid one day it will be too late.

Please, never let it be too late.
all weight
        and meaning
is not
to be found
in the substance itself

there are spaces
between words;
pauses
    and pregnancies
or an absence
        altogether
that contains more
than semantics ever could

the trouble is
finding a balance
that punctuates the message
appropriately;
otherwise
you just seem
disinterested

                  or

                              lost
Brumous Oct 2021
the time that you told me to die
was painful that I didn't even try
slapping you

I don't know if you lied
but all I knew was it was possible
that you wished I did

I tried to make it up to you;
avoiding hurting you
with the fist,
and temper of mine

I just wished you noticed that I tried;

Yes, I've grown distant,
trying to find one's self;
I was occupied, sad, and alone.

Too busy to find friends,
that won't discard me when I needed someone

I guess that I pushed you away
so that you won't be like me.
An envious, gullible fool
but
as I did,
the more you become
a little more
like me.

We're the opposite of each other
but undeniably similar.
back and forth.
stillhuman Jul 2021
How do we clash
so harsh
and yet sparse
but it lasts
anger blush
as we laugh
I guess love has its price
My Dear Poet Jun 2021
you should not push an opinion
nor force it into a small mind
it may explode at the ears
and lose the hearing the next time
when opportunity may arise
where those words may be recieved
into small parts, in smaller bits
and pushed in with ease
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