Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jme Love Mar 2022
Well 5 missed calls.
Must be the 4 concrete walls.
Inside of a box in a box.
I know your bored.
You never thought of me this much before.
I know its hard and you are going through it.
I do my best
But you dont always believe it. You always think im doing wrong. When its you thats been gone so long. 5 missed calls now. Lets see what happens when you get out.
Inmates have so much to say when they have nothing to do.
hazem al jaber Aug 2021
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 ...
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 ...
Rupert Pip Jun 2021
You didn't tell me we'd be listening
to music when I picked up the phone.

Your dulcet tones danced through my velvet
head and perched upon the crescent
moon that was my lips.

You could see my body drifting away,
so you took my hand and saw that I moved
in time with you, sailing upon the song
that jumped over a telephone line.

In awe, my tongue was pinched,
my ears became a playing field for
all the ***** you had to bat.

Birds began to sing in the early hours
as we put away the chitter chatter

But it didn't stop my phone from

me from glowing,
you from lighting up.
A phone call with a lover leaves the sweetest tastes on your tongue.
Raven Feels Apr 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, pen ink cries too:(

fines that cant be identified on the near

or the writes put on paper they die they cry

got my reasons for the sacred peasants and held daemons

nurtured weapons earned upon various treasons

came surrendered on your questioned gazes

that i fond a sweet spot on my unsolved mazes

unhealthy for the mind

my ears brought up to a permanent blind

you descend my pride

to fault on knees loose

cut on shortage of scenarios to choose

amazement on the major dominance captive of my shoes

leading calls to a song never told never sold

Ava Courtney Mar 2021
At 2:52 a.m as you dozed off to sleep, I hung up the phone.
That's when I realized what the meaning of happiness was,
I found a natural drug for all my pain and anxiety.
It's your voice, your smile.
I'm in love with your smile.
I'm in love with you and I haven't even touched your skin.
I've fallen in love with your soul. I’ve found the light I've been searching for.
How can I be in love with someone that I’ve never met in the flesh?  
You're trapped between pixels on a phone
Between the muffled words
Poor connections,
And long pauses.
You brought light to the darkest parts of me,
You make me feel safe from the things that hurt inside.
And I know we are both broken but you took my heart and placed it back together.  
At 2:52 a.m I thank the universe for bringing us together
Because the odds of us ever meeting were slim.
Now its 2:53 a.m. and I realized that I can never tell you this.
Anais Vionet Nov 2020
I see you in dreams,
those inconsequential things,
shaped in busy slumber.

I call to you - with
continual mutterings
- but do you listen?
nothings may be sweet, but they're nothings
Alex Jul 2020
I've got numbers that never show.
I'll never see another text
From those asleep in an oak box.
I screenshot them; kept like dead leaves

I hope it never ends
I hope it never .
Emmeline Miedema Apr 2020
You still miss her so much.
I feel it when I touch the keys of your laptop.
Wet from your teardrop.
Last night there was a birthday party.
For a boy that was a zombie.
He didn't exist, only his mother.
In a ghost home like no other.
Dark and brown.
In a ghost town.
I watched them from very far away.
I watched a mother and child that used to play.
You'll find ways.
You'll find ways and people and days.
It will be so hard, impossible and too much.
Like trying to sleep when there's nothing that feels right for your body to touch.
And it all falls apart again.
And you have to start again and again.
Always with too many things happening.
And no certainty and the world spinning.
On and and on.
How to go on? How to hold on?
Falling backwards again into the storm.
Uncomfortable and cold in every form.
The calm before and after the hit.
And the loving inside surrounding it...
You just hold me when everything falls.
When the siren calls...
René Mutumé Mar 2020
In 2020 we are the motors of the mechanics we drive
in the bed
of other work days
as the bees fly less

the drive of somersaulting mad men, calmer
than a pool of iced days off
after the pool boy
cleans up
start screaming,

although it’s universal when you rise, and my limbs burst
through these elsewhere tossed things, and elsewhere bones
that have no succor in the middle of the sun’s dance, as if:

naïve butchers in the street are sleeping on the bus and
there is no answer from the ricochet dream apart from
keep your **** together
keep your **** together…

and the world is well travelled when you’re smoking beside a dog
and the obliterated silence of a room has a voice,

but the turnstiles open when the poem begins, ah!
the weekend again-this, envelope of random orchids that rustle

in the haven of a ***** flat where we find the best corona jokes
new cities
these shaking palms
the way the world works better at 10 am
and the humour of a crazy snake, checking KPIs

and when i wake
i will love this zero

i will worship you and say
Next page