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Andrew Aug 29
It was hard waking up
today; I rolled over to the swirls
in my coffee - the swirls in my head -
I couldn’t - can’t - think straight; the world
was a blur and I was in the midst of those terrible, awful,
beautiful swirls.
I hate it,
when I feel this way - so slow, so tired -
a Puppet.
I suppose,
if nothing else - that is why these sheets
comfort me so; I am alone with my thoughts
- for better or worse -
as time guides my fragile hands to crease
and curl
what covers me whole;
I am learning to make my bed
so I can learn
to make myself.
bed's calls ...

night start ...
the bed ...
got bore ...
alone ...
empty ...
with no warm ...
so cool ...
waiting for us ...
to feel warm ...
form bodies ...
adorable ...
knows how ...
to give the hot ...
creative  ...
to make the bed warm ...

the bed calling us ...
calls our love ...
to start ...
making...
the love ...
that it make ...
bed warm ...
and to enjoy ...
it loneliness ...
while we share ...
that lonely bed ...

let's answer the bed calls ...
let's share our love ...
to give the warm ...
to that sweet bed ...
by our love that we do ...

hazem al ...
You set my heart up on a shelf
Way too high for me to reach
So I can't take it down myself
Therefore you I must beseech

Heard the thoughts you left unsaid
Swear I can almost read your mind
Expression betrays what's in your head
To not read your face have to be blind

Coming to a reluctant acceptance
On the cold side of your shoulder
That I must live without your presence
To accompany me as I grow older

Hooking up with someone new
Doesn't really help at all
Because I compare everyone to you
Making it impossible to fall

Rusted trust is decomposing
Like cars in forgotten junkyards
Pits in my soul created by eroding
Leave my insides hollowed and scarred

If I only I could stop the sorrow
Cover ears but it still trickles in
Wish there was laughter I could borrow
To drown out echoes of your voice within

I try to track down explanations
For why things suddenly went wrong
Hindsight still sees no indications
Pointing to you saying "so long"

One moment we held each other tight
The next we were pulling apart
We swiftly went from kissing goodnight
To seperate beds and broken hearts
This reminds me of the song by Keith Urban "You'll Think Of Me"
Sarah Flynn Nov 2020
it's 2:56am, and I'm lying next to a stranger.
when the sun rises, I'll already be gone.
I'll have already climbed out of his bed,
found my clothes, tiptoed
to the front door, and vanished.
the house will be left exactly as it was.
his car will still be parked in the driveway.
the curtains will still be drawn.
the withering houseplant in his kitchen
will remain unwatered.
everything will be left untouched.
when I leave, it will appear
as if I had never been there at all.
but I was.

two weeks from now,
he won't remember my name.
he won't remember anything
besides the feeling of skin on skin,
of a warm body pressed up against his.
in his mind, I will have been
nothing more than another body.

I always imagined that going home
with a complete stranger would feel wrong,
would be terrifying, that not knowing
who is next to me when I am falling asleep
would be scary.

a few months ago, it was 2:56am
and I was lying next to a stranger.
this time, he wasn't a complete stranger.
this was not my first night with him,
far from it. I knew him. he knew me.
I wasn't gone when the sun rose
in the morning. the house was left
exactly as it was the night before.
the only difference was that this time,
I was still there.

two weeks after that night,
he would remember my name.
he would remember my laugh,
my freckles, my eyes
my voice when I was tired,
how I talked too fast
whenever I was excited,
the way that I looked at him
when I was in love.
and I would remember all
of those little things about him,
the same way he would remember
all of those little things about me.

I always imagined that sleeping next
to someone who I loved would feel safe,
would be comforting, that knowing the
person next to me when I am falling asleep
would be wonderful.

for the most part, my imagination
wasn't incorrect. I was right when I pictured
how incredible sleeping next to
someone who I loved would feel.
I was right when I pictured how frightening
sleeping next to someone
who I didn't know would feel.
I was right about most of it.

but I was wrong about one thing.
while lying in a bed at 2:56am,
I realized that the memory
of sleeping with a complete stranger
hurt far less than the memory
of sleeping with someone
who I once thought I knew.
Styles Jun 2020
The air tainted
With the scent of lavender
Walls painted with mud

On her back
She looked down from above
His unshaved skin tickles her thighs
She sighs
Word unspoken
Give a clear directive
Untamed
she became
while he ravished her
Satisfaction she over-came
all over the furniture
Styles Jun 2020
I am salivating
over your curves
The way they bend in all the right ways
It makes me so stiff
I wish, I could just slide my hands all over her
Listen to you exhale as we go skin to skin
tasting the taste of your tongue
After your delicious lips let me in  
our mouth enveloping each other  
with so much anticipation
we quiver as the nerves subside
as the moment sets in
sushii Dec 2019
spikes and chains
i enjoy the pain
frilly lace
and satin space

you’ve got quite a pretty face
especially when it twists into a scowl
when you put me in my place
rgz May 2019
I just went to bed
left you on Read
I did it on purpose to mess with your head

Laid in gossamer sheets
tinged sickly red
with the blood of words
that went unsaid
hard to deny
who made the bed
who caught whom
in whose spinnerets

Distraught with rotting thoughts
locked in my own stocks
stalking twisted halls
the clocks have all stopped

Stuck in my head
kicking myself
with broken knees
and buckled legs
struggling to free myself
from myself

Entombed by one I never could deceive
darkness abounding when all that I need
is to catch the right light
and stop trying to fight
Oh, what a tangled web we weave
The prompt was to use Walter Scott's "..tangled web.." line in a poem, this was what came out.
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