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Maria Mar 31
You asked me: "May be it's love?"
I didn't know, what to say.
If it's dark without you every time.
So I can't even see myself anyway.

If wine is water without you!
If the air around is more bitter than poison!
If I'm not me without you!
Every day less of you I feel like an old some.

Every my step is a step into hollow.
No forward or backward, into an abyss.
I'm empty, I'm nobody without you!
And every my next step will be amiss!

โ€˜May be it's love?โ€™ - you asked me again.
I realize that I'm lost at all.
I don't breathe, I don't live without you,
And the Universe is tiny for me in whole!
I really want to introduce you one more my poem about love. I like to write about love. Although it is probably more correct to say that I love to live by love, with love, inside and around me.
Thank you for reading! ๐Ÿ’–
I have loved you
From the moment our eyes
Met across the crowded street
On that scorching summer day

And though summer
Soon came to a bitter end
I have loved you through
Every season ever since

And I guess I always will
Gideon Mar 8
Comforted by the bitter.
When your heart twitters,
You pull back and shiver.
Realize that you are a liver.
Not an ***** meant to filter,
But a human just off-kilter.
Realign your soul to peace.
Adjust your path, jump in the leaves.
Mica Wood Feb 10
Sweet bitterness is
Coffee with sugar, no cream
And my love for you.
Malia Jan 27
i race across the boardwalk and
i taste the waves,
throw my phone into the ocean and
find some form of freedomโ€”
whateverโ€™s left will do! Iโ€™d do
anything to find out who iโ€™m supposed
to be, i guess that should be me,
but iโ€™ve never met that girl
(๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ฆ?)
so instead i keep running and
you might ask from what but
only the Lord knows that and maybe
my tide-worn mother too but once
she tried to tame the frizz out
of my hair but it didnโ€™t work because
she never expected to have a firecracker
for a daughter, ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฏโ€™๐˜ต ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฆ๐˜น๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ถ๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ
๐˜ช๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ, but i left that all behind so i could
race across the boardwalk
and taste the waves, but now
i am here and somehow the salt
tastes bitter.
Visvod Jan 23
my grandmother unscrewed
the door to my room
and removed the carpet from my floor

in the winter months
my toes went white and my fingertips hued blue
my lips marred red as i looked to the ceiling
and pondered my importance in this reality

i went to sleep that night and had a dream
i thought was so clever
in this dream i said: 'Roses are sometimes red, and violets
are rarely blue'.
Somebody hand me a Pulitzer this instant

in hindsight, my dreams were foretelling
as i awoke in the hospital with a headache
and diagnosis of hypothermia
the nurses and social workers sat in chairs
with my grandmother beside them  

i closed my eyes and visualized all the
yellow roses and white violets often overlooked
and with a few smiles
and words of affirmations to the guests judging my performance
I received a standing ovation
of vibrant violets and beautiful deep reds thrown on stage
and returned to the Tiled Floors.
Cubical of imperfections
No matter where turned
I dedicate to none
Over no one's soul has mine won.
Zee Jan 8
Sometimes there isn't a reason why.
Sometimes you just have to sit in the pain.
Let it wash over you like rain.

Sometimes the villain wins.
With no justice in sight.

It's hard to watch a person that hurt you.
Get everything you want.

Sometimes people are people.
With their own flaws and faults.

Some are bad.
Some are good.
Sone stand in between.

You never know which one you'll meet.
Till they show the running colours underneath.
That you wish you would have never seen.

Some goodbyes are sweet.
Wishing you well.
Others are bitter.

Leaving scars in your memory.
Sometimes just sometimes.
People are people.
They can't help who they are.

Sometimes you can try to change.
To rearrange them.

Sometimes you just can't.
Angie Nov 2024
That savoury love,
That familiar comfort, a home cooked meal.
The reliable morning texts and midday calls
My warm, rounded, sleepy belly.
That sweet love,
That longed for joyful treat, my childlike excitement
The tender kiss on my forehead
My wonderment, my gentle hope for more
That sour love,
That acrid seizure, my face contorted in shock The lingering invisible betrayal
My confused tastebuds, their longing for dissipation
That bitter love,
Those biting words, our requited animosity
The weaponising of our failings
My aggrieved mouth and her repugnant venom.
That hot love,
The picnic of your mouth by the ocean
The heated liminality before each kiss
Our frenetic and impermanent fire.
QueenOfTheAshes Nov 2024
I'm on the other side
I promise I don't mind
That we don't see each other anymore
That we have others to pray for.

Somewhat nice
Bitter but in disguise
It'll all fade
To new promises, to be made.

Hope you keep them
Hope you feel them
See them through
This time around, with someone new.
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