and all the while

escapism is a far off dream and you don’t know how to be

co-existing is pain

when your heart wants only for the soul to be free

when for a fleeting moment you forget

that happiness is an illusion of the brain

and all you feel is hollow and bent

misplaced and out of shape

in a world that never really cared for the words

written on your tear stained cheeks

the most relatable part

hold me close don’t let me breathe

all i need is you and me

arms crossed like the thickest of canopies

enveloping this lost soul of mine

but i’ll find it through in my own time

my heart is in your hands

your eyes, they’re on my mind

twinkling like that moon lit beach

where our smiles first met

and our laughter rolled for miles

and all the while

my heart fell like a shadow over water of deepest blue

crashing so powerfully

those eyes are on my mind

those eyes are on my mind

those eyes are on my mind

baby

you’re on my mind

god bless that moonlit beach

those eyes

Lie to me again



I miss you too.


Staring at stars in the night sky, always reminded me of your eyes, and the sparkle they held when you saw the smile I saved only for you.

Now it’s like the sun doesn’t escape me, I feel the burn this love has left, feel the scars of your hatred etching deep into my soul, and I wonder what happened for it all to end this way, and I am so fucking confused.

I want you back.

I want us back.

But most of all, I wish for my humanity to return to me for I am so very lost without it.





Please.


Open the door, let me carry your burdens, the ones that leave you winded and struggling to breathe when you open your eyes and see a world that you refuse to accept love from, because I let your heart escape you and become my own.

Take what little humanity I have left and make it yours, because if that is what it takes for the sparkle to return, I will walk to the ends of the earth and bleed myself dry in the vain hope that the boy I once knew will return to us.

Return to me

Please.

Let me help.


I know I show affection in peculiar ways, sarcasm is my forte after all, but trust me when I say, I would do anything in my power to see that smile, feel those arms once more.

I’d drag the moon from the sky, name every burning star after a reason why I care, and it still wouldn’t come close to showing the affection I feel for you.

That is all I can say.

let me in again, please
Nienke 1d

what do you know about love
the craving, the salvation, the pain
what do you know about sensitivity
the feel of an unannounced last kiss
what do you know about desperation
a bleeding fist against a cold wall

what do you know about loneliness
a lost black cat between angry dogs
what do you know about gravity
the entire sun coming down on you
what do you know about sadness
a tear sunken in a lavender pilow

what do you know about loss
a dove that lost its feets to land
do you care? and why
why would you
if it's not there to nothing anyways

What can I even explain...

From my vantage point I see beauty, natural essence of what is  and what isn't, I'm sure your touch is as deep as your inner self, with skin soft as a rose blowing in the soft breeze, every kiss is explosive like a small nuclear blast upon my lips. Your hips are made for my touch, caressing your soul as such.

messages
left on read
i know i never
linger in your head
for the words i should have said
are still sweet on my tongue
i didn't have the courage
to tell you we were done

the light washed over me and suddenly i was free of you, but the shadows occasionally creep back in

She who praises me

Praises me well

Sometimes she Pampers me

Sometimes makes me feel like hell

She who praises me

Is one of a kind

Though chiseled beauty she got

She also have a mind

She who praises me

Is herself well known

Still she behaves like

Her attitude is long gone

She who praises me

Cries on what not

Then I make jokes on her

And she laughs a lot

She who praises me

Praises through her core

As she encourages me

I want to write more

She who praises me

Is not my significant other

Sometimes she be my best friend

And sometimes my mother

She who praises me

I cannot thank you more

But I'll have a corner for you

That is for sure

I wish you all the happiness

in your life

The man will be so lucky

Who will have you as his wife

Never mind I'll keep writing shit

That's from my side

And this is it…...

Write this one for my best friend pooja
The Writer Jul 15

The bridges we built with a desire to connect
Slowly rust down with habitual neglect

Weathered by sadness through salty tears
Broken down by accusations and continuous fears

A desolate structure made to last
Soon, a forgotten memory in the past

With love and care, it could have flourished
But when left too long in the dying sun, it perished

Martine Jul 14

Hips swaying in the distance,
she walks into the metro.

Her stride is armored with purpose and
her grace is like perfume.

She is a woman,
yet they call her Female.

The word bursts forth from their lips like a curse.

It lurches up from the bitter valleys of their gnashed teeth,
like a venomous spider coming up from it's Trap door.

Female, they say accusingly..

They are caught between their wonder and amazement of her,
while also trapped by their fear and disdain for her strength.

Female, they hiss!

As if she is to blame for their uncouth desires and base instincts.

They know what it truly means when they call her 'Female'.

It is the code of fragmented egos;
easy to grasp and hurl.

They labor ceaselessly to belittle her and cheapen her radiance with their curses,

yet they do not know her worth is protected and can never be compromised.

"These Females", they say in reference to her...

It is a weapon used in attempt to strip her of her right to respect.

Boys, like these

may call her female;

But real men know that her true name is Woman.

This is inspired by my disdain for the term 'Female' when used by black men and women to refer to other women. Although it is not blatantly and insult, the use of the term when referring to women carries a subtle and sexist allusion that roots the worth and role of a woman solely in her gender. This term is often used in an accusatory and condescending manner as to belittle, dismiss or criticize the thoughts and ideas of black women.


I hope you enjoyed this work.
Batool Jul 13

she was just a girl
with rebelious heart
and brown eyes
but
they described her as
a dark soul,
that house demons
a broken thought,
with shrap edges
a forbidden path,
with no destination
a tangled mess
hard to love
yet he saw her as
the night sky
with rising moon
a sacred thought
with delicate edges
the only path
to his destination
a tangled mess
only to be loved !!

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