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aj 8h
I came back to a bag of clothes on my bed
that you left there for me while I was gone
they looked little and silly, the things;

once mine, then yours
now neither of us want to take credit for what belongs to us

you were giving back what you'd kept hold on to in the most material way you could

thought basically saying in less words than one
"I've made the choice to forget you"
I run myself a bath, I put fluffy bubbles and soothing soaps in it, I light candles and turn down the lights, and make sure it's the perfect temperature
To cry in it

I drag myself out of bed, brush my teeth and get dressed, I tediousely organize my room, alphabetical, by colour, I get out my books, I dust the smooth pages
To cry on them

I pick out a fresh shirt, pants, shoes. I tie my hair and dry my face. I put on a nice jacket
Just to soak it with tears

Just to cry

It's seems most of my time these days, is spent on things that stray to sobs
Stray to crying
I'm laid here In my room nothing much to do, but I
have my poetry so got to thinking about the very first time I laid down with Helen on her
She had invited me to her
room because three night previous I slept on her settee because she was unwell
and stayed to look after her I had slept In my clothes all that time and had become saw In my jeans so asked Helen politely If could take them off, she said yes but added why not
take all your  clothes of she said her daughter was at work so It would be
So this I did there was no light on when I finished
Helen suddenly said don't move and then heard fumbling In her bedside draws I asked her what she
was doing she replied I'm looking
for lighter I can't see and there was Helen with a lighter trying to get a better look at me, so much fun Helen
Helen was so much fun to be with, never knew what she what she'd do next
Daksh Nov 11
Sun is up,
Your eyes;

Coffee sips and old books.
Can't look more beautiful;

Lose clothes and perfect hair

Trying to keep eyes off,
Loving this morning despair.

I had you in a dream last night.
Anya Oct 12
My mom got me a pair
of blue jeans
I never used to wear
Buttoning and zipping
was a pain

Then we got a dress code
And jeans
I could wear
But not blue
Too casual

And so they sat forgotten
Until a few years later
In a rush
I grabbed something
to wear
and it was
My blue jeans
And you know what? I don't look half bad.
fashionably wearing and flaunting...

~Tap Out t-shirts doesn’t make you strong
~Ramones t-shirts doesn’t make you punk
~Metallica t-shirts doesn’t make you metal
~Tuxedos doesn’t make you elegant
~3 piece suits doesn’t make you powerful
~Priest garments doesn’t make you holy
~A habit doesn’t make you righteous
~Bikinis doesn’t make you attractive
~knock off brands doesn’t mean you’re poor
~high end brands doesn’t mean you’re rich

you are not your clothes
you are not the clique you got roped into
you’re just covering up your ***** body
because someone who died
a long time ago
once told you
to do so
Anya Oct 10
Death, loss, mourning
in many Western countries

purity, rebirth
in many parts of Eastern Asia

honor, patriotism
certain places

Other places

bright colors
At the,
of the

And yet,
I'm sure there are more
colors worn
thought of
these complex emotions
impossible to capture
No matter,
we try
I walked into a sandwich shop with a woman who believed in meditation and growling at the dirt in the desert. We saw a well dressed black man and we were 5,280 miles away from him, but he had a nice suit, so I said so.
Annie Oct 6
I want to be this
wet white dress
hanging alone on the line,
on such a gentle
Sunday morning.

Why do I want to be this dress
so badly?
Every time I glance it’s way
I’m surprised with the jealousy I feel.
I must be jealous of its peace,
I suppose.

It has no need to do anything
all day long,
except hang there
and sweetly dry
in its own time.
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