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sophie Jan 2021
my heart walks the fine, grey line
that hovers between platonic and romantic
feelings for her
or him
probably her

you are so so very incredible
and i continue to trip and fall as i attempt
to balance myself on the fine, grey line

i am so so very confused
as you are my everything
and i feel like nothing when i am not with you

what line is there?
Lo Jan 2021
For the girl who stays
Up thinking too much,
Clear your tears and
Kick your worries to the curb.

For once
Exhale the heaviness you carry, the
Emptiness you try to fill with
Little things that don’t matter.
Instead, wear that bumble bee hat, with
No cares about who likes it or who
Gives a **.
Simply let go and live.
Unpolished Ink Jan 2021
Pile them up
stack stone on stone
hold each one
bone on bone
feel the rocks
between your fingers
rough and smooth
the feeling lingers
weigh each pebble
in your hand
lift it from the shifting sand
let it fall from where it came
to a rock it's all the same
one tiny part of an endless game!
Rocks are patient!
Erin Suurkoivu Jan 2021
Feast or famine.
The dry summer or monsoon season.

It’s not as though he had
murdered me.

That would be easier to
prove. There would be

no hiding
the blood of it.

And how I did bleed—
years later,

red all over it.
Improper.

Fuel for the fire.
Combustible.

But nothing trembles
as I weigh the being

of my existence against
what stoppage.

Order or chaos.
Black or white.

What has been spoilt
rotten can never be

golden. These are
the questions I ask myself:

Am I loved? Do I
love? Can I love?

While there is the story
he tells himself, reassuringly:

It was just ***.
It was just ***.
Zywa Dec 2020
The world keeps turning

its wheel of time before me –


It makes me dizzy.
“Vaarwel aan het verdriet” (“Farewell to sorrow”, 1977, Jotie T’Hooft)

Collection "After the festivities"
Ry Dec 2020
Greatness is within, within a concept of a world where greatness exists.
Owen Dec 2020
Cobblestone streets,
a lunar lighthouse,
and a night on North Beach.
Alcohol and arcades,
oak trees and foggy days.
So many ways
I'm finding beauty more and more
as it contrasts the violence
of the world
and the war
waged inside.
Balance is being restored in me. Im floating down stream.
persephone Dec 2020
Thread counted in linen robes,
his thatch of hair an areole.
Armored tight against the world,
with metered calm and stoicism.
Freckles, scars, lashed eyelids.
Both hard and soft,
all that he is.
Yes I am writing another poem about my partner while he sleeps next to me is this getting creepy
Mystic Ink Plus Nov 2020
History repeats.
Someday you will come to know.
Life is not always about keep moving, it is more about where to pause, where to jump and where to stop. It is more about feel the ground everytime you step the foot. It is not always about looking forward, It is more about looking back and adore what you learned from the bygone time. It is more about understanding of pivotal swift to stay in the track. It is more about silence than the nonsense talk with phantom hope for a temporary calm. It is not just about 5 days of colorful lights, it is more about the constant light that remains. It is more about choices, not how many times you breathe, it's always about how consciously you breathe.
Sometimes It may be more about being anonymous. Cast away everything that defines you, strip the identity and get lost in time, as the end purpose of hide and seek is to fine. Find your being.
Else history repeats.
Someday you will come to know something more.
Unsaid, unheard and unseen from revolution within.
If one mixed
Gold with bronze
Neither it is gold
Not pure bronze
That simple
Yet it opens to
The many answers
Nothing to say.............
Genre: Observational
Theme: Truth of life
Author's Note: Nothing to say....
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