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MoonBunny Jan 11
i do not know your name,
i do not know who you are,
but i do know i like you,

i do not have a clue about you,
or your name to find you,
but you name shall be sweet,

for you are sweet,
your name shall be pure,
and nothing less.
Wai Phyo Win Dec 2018
I don't want to say "Safe Journey" always
I cannot accompany with you
Everytime you go away
I'm in blue without a clue
myrrh Oct 2018
Quick thought, fate deems me to be forsaken
Faith has been shaken, your love was just a ruse
You love to decide when you feel for me, you pick and choose
You make me feel blue, ironically that's my favourite colour
I have no clue what to do about you, because there will be no other
I understand that loves a mountain and you have to trek to the top
But the peak is below sea level and I don't want to drown, so I think we should stop
Hubert Aug 2018
Take away everything. Take away.
Take. It. All.
Take it.
Piece by piece.
Rip it apart as if it's nothing.
As if it's
Something
That slipped through your fingers
Bit it
Fight the wind
Kiss the cold
Press fingers against the throat
Can you feel the pulse?
Blood rushing under your tips
Of foam in the bathtub
Hold the head under the surface
Watch bubbles
That can pop
As if they are nothing
Can you take nothing?
I am
a misfit
in this world
of blue.
Thinking,
wondering
having no clue.
What if
I could just
unscrew.
These feelings
muddled up
in a brew.
Trying to fit in.
Martin Narrod Jun 2018
How were they introduced to themselves within a flash of light? Enormous shots of humanness flying across the universe- only still inside the shapes of two blue eyes staring back at this vessel. Just molecules of flesh colliding into one another in a heap of colors and sounds we’d sometimes prefer to force ourselves not to hear. How do you keep yourself from exploding? Into a masterpiece of delightfulness pushed forward into the mouth, and sometimes only to be a breath, or a story dressed as a pink pillowcase on a childhood bedroom.

Sometimes it’s just as if there was never ending cold and never ending warmth, and between each other there we were with our noses pressed up against the glass.

People are only sometimes not shaped like beasts, are sometimes only chiseled into neatly marble statuesque ephemeral deities, and then into the tombs the book keepers go, into the ruins the shapes and sounds and colors disappear. Shattered into the vast expanse of vitrifying light, bouncing against your head my head, landing on the bedside table, the corner of your knee, into the knapsack with the broken zipper, far off into the jungle, or into the pantry next to the agave syrup, adjacent the espresso maker.

There I am loving you more and more, quietly raking my hooves against the dirt, reigning midnight shining orders of dusty moonlight plashed on the time of winter lake, courtiers in your centrifuge of melancholy, balancing the toes just inches below the surface of the water, where the skin shuffled into the brief sentimentality of being thrusted into the infinite transdimensionality of the human escape-

hands feet legs being ****** and pressed upon the glass. Infinite planes of man hurdling with fastidious dreamscape prejudice into the quakes and trembling, the  indivisible and unquantifiable desires of yore crushed as the envelopes bars break against the seams, then come the staples and the body’s tries at reattaching itself to this the trying table of familiar names, this the tepid jocular playing field. While the undulates are thrown into the academies. While the infrastructures topple over, and the sunlight froths upon the celestial satellites nearing and nearing to us, folded over until we wake up from our necks and into our heads and inside of our brains, until we pull the thread from our gems and count back through the catalog pages trying to find letters of words in other languages piecing together the wanton madness of yearning for you and sharing the sounds of a voice that’s forgotten its own triumph of revealing or speaking its name.

There is the room with the panels and the drawers. These are the wildernesses humming with the poison and quaffing the spit and drugs at the heady realm of human-like lightness, pals or even matter gives pause to answering you with what no understanding beeps or carries on forward, but rather bleeds, tormented, reaches forcefully, it has been nearly a quarter-millennia. Here is the start, the finish, here are the minutes, the hours, here are the streets, the beach, the bench, and all of life is ours, from the dawn to the crepuscular night. Here in a stone room where in black and white photographs spin their *** drives like mercurial thermoses bouncing of each other, dancing into the next world, or just fishing for alphabet soup with a wooden spoon.

Here it is. The short-sheeted bedroom linen collection, folded comforter in the closet. The bath water is still and hot. The sky is clouding up soon, but not quite yet. In a ball of light rounding bloom, comes the silent fans that’ve carried you. While of a breath the trembles sway, and take us far away from here.
Daydreaming Apr 2018
I'm running now and i'm running out of breath
and with every tracks i've ran past through,
none of them seems right

I'm running now and i'm running barefooted
and with every steps i've stepped through,
none of them were smooth,
rough edges i could feel under my heels

I'm running now and i'm running blind
and with every tracks i've seen,
none of them were visible,
guessing,
and hoping all of these were given light,
so that i know which way should i run to
i'm getting lost.
moon-kissedstar Mar 2018
B
I like how my heart grows with you,
Even when I left without a clue
I know for sure, a day or two
I'm gonna ask how you've been, boo.
I miss you even if you won't be missing me. I still care about you even if my mind says no already.
pk tunuri Mar 2018
You really want to make it upto me?
You better be sorry and let it be!

I've every right to be mad at you
You've made me cry every night, you got no clue

I regret every minute, I cared for you
I can't imagine what were you expecting me to do

All that mattered is your own point of view
You didn't even bother to ask me if it was true

If You really want to make it upto me
You better be sorry and let it be
when people hurt you and if they ever try to make it up to you, tell them what have you suffered and ask them to let it be because by then you should've learned being without them and must not allow them to take away your happiness once again.
Alec Jan 2018
I’ll admit
I’m a bit romantic.
With theories and opinions
On why and how people love.

I’ve always been a bit clueless
When people have tried to confess
Anything indirectly said
Tends to go over my head.

My mind tends to fantasize
Everything all the time.
Things that are impossible
Or unfathomable

But I’ve learned as time goes
Though there is much i dont know
That when feelings occur
I should get to know the person first.

To wait and to understand
Quirks and habits and traits piling up like sand.
To know a person before getting together
Makes a relationship a lot better.

So off my brain goes
While i research the soul.
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