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Lily Priest Mar 25
Perfumed bedsheets,
Canvas the colour of her smile;
They'd become a cliche,
But he found
Even that
Was a masterpiece.
Anmol Mago Feb 19
I haven't changed
the bedsheets of my room yet

each contour on its
wrinkled surface
reminds me
(rather painfully,)
of your absence

the blankets --
still somehow smell
of your mellow breath
for it seems
they haven't forgotten yet
what love once felt like

and often like surprises
so carefully laid,
I still find sometimes
your hair scattered about
here and there
I so wish to tresure them,
as if they were
the last remanants
of that something special
two souls had between them

and then sometimes
on sundays like guests
totally uninvited
I feel all these memories
coming back
choking my throat with tears
gloating me to death
and somehow
I feel like playing all those
games all over again
which we once used to play
"together"
but somehow that voice
inside of my head just knows
how badly will I lose again

And yet however
certainly may I know
what's passed can never return
and trust isn't so easy to gain
I just can't bring my tormented self
to clear away this mess
(we once so lovingly made)
based on my cousins experience.
Nina Aug 2019
I'm laying on my bed
That was freshly washed
The sweet fresh scent
Had me thinking of you.

The first time you were on my bed
Was the day i had washed them
Cuddling you in my bed
With your smell blended with the sheets
The smell i could fall asleep to
The one that makes me feel safe

I'm smelling my bedsheets again
But this time
Its lacking you
Julia Jun 2018
Your lips caress
my neck.
Within seconds,
vulnerable
parts of myself
bloomed
as a flower in spring.

With both hands,
you dig deep
beneath my skin,
and touch the roots of
my soul.

A storm bellows;
however, the rain
that pours
is meant for a moment
like this,

where it is known
by morning,
a garden of my own
will be
alive within,

all because
of how, when
our eyes meet,
I stare into the Sun.
Julia May 2018
Darlin, lay with me,
under these sheets,                                
as the rain falls along
the window pane.                                      

Kiss my lips;
reality, vanish into the mist,
so a rainbow can be made
between our hearts.
Madison Greene Nov 2017
for me it will always be you
and for you it will always be her
your smile
her eyes
your fingertips
her bedsheets
your words
her touch
and she will always come back but she will never choose you
and you will always want me but you will never let her go
ren Nov 2017
I fell into the arms
of a foreign name
and she spoke
a peculiar language
that i’d never heard.

though, it was beautiful.

her words danced
upon her lips
and performed to a crowd
of the bed sheets
and i.

I want to learn this peculiar language,
this language she called
“love.”
- she made perfect sense but no sense at all
m j g May 2017
we woke up together, enveloped in each other and your bedsheets, to the sound of soft wind chimes in your bedroom window and cars driving past your home. your room smells like your cologne and the laundry detergent my mother used when i was young. you lazily half moaned, half murmured, "good morning, love," and you, with your dazed condition and morning breath, found my lips and met them with yours. you pulled me in closer and ran your fingers gently through my messy, tangled hair, and i inhaled your scent so deeply i could feel it softly settle in the bottoms of my lungs. the morning sun shined through your bedroom window and the shadows of the trees outside danced in the wind along your baby blue bedroom walls. you ran the tips of your fingers gently in sporadic loops along my shoulder blade and spine. we lay there and took it all in, took each other in, our legs intertwined and my head against your chest. for these few minutes i found myself wishing we could live infinitely in these small, precious moments, the ones we take for granted, the ones we only remember when the big picture is gone. i snuggled closer into your arms and we drifted back to sleep, heartbeats synced and bedsheets entangled in our legs.
J Mar 2017
my bedsheets today tell the story of the night before
we were close,
very,
very
close.
the smell of you was in my clothing
and in my skin.
my sheets smelled like you when i closed my eyes
and when i opened them and was blinded by the sun.
this morning i woke up comforted, yet lonely
because you weren't there

but i know that you will be
someday.
Zara Wolfe Jan 2016
Wrap me in the depths
of your haunting eyes,
drown my frame
in the layers pf your bedsheets,
You may imprison me with lies
but I am enthralled
with the fragility you effortlessly hide.
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