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A seed planted,
Turned around,
A look planted,
Turned around,
A smile more,
Turned around,
Another look, longer,
Turned around,
I hope I touched your soul.
...because you definitely touched mine.
At 5:35 p.m the geese fly over.
A one syllable honk announcing arrival.

At 8:35 p.m. the neighbor lets out
his two beagles.
One bark, and the dogs of the neighborhood
engage in canine conversation.

What does this all mean?

We sit at the table, 4:30 p.m.
An early dinner. Chewing. Chewing.
I want to tell you about  who I am,
but I get lost in they way you cut your food.

I will save it for tomorrow.

At 7:45 a.m.
carbonrain Dec 2018
I can feel your heart ache under your soft, warm skin as I glide my fingers along your gold-mended pottery fractures. Skating on the glaze you've let me peer beneath to reveal your raw materials. We used to use air and clay and water to speak, now we communicate in a wordless language, born of ***** otherworldly splendor.  — and  that planet, your body, I long to explore.
Austin Dec 2018
Tell me how do I love you?
I need to know how to breakthrough
I wish that I could speak your language

I continually chase after the things I could never have
Facing all the fears I never grab
I sit back and rehearse my lines
But yet failed to see the signs, someone was eyeing you first
Yet I still jump in head first.

I can feel my world unfolding
Now tell me if your pretty heart is worth holding
I know you can hear me just please say I'm your dearie
If our hearts could be syncopated, then I might finally be vindicated
Just let me follow your stars tonight.
A short poem about the narrator failing to connect
Jade Charlotte Dec 2018
Is the unspoken love like wind?
What adhesive could make your breath stick to my neck?

I know we are rolling through this like two inconsequential boulders, but baby,
I don't want to crash into anyone else.

You gave me a hickey on my *** and after pushing my hair out of my eyes,
Tucking it so tenderly and neatly behind my ears
"We are just friends" echoed from your lips-- akin to the repetition of screaming into a long tunnel.

Today my throat is chalky,
like a pale moon on a dry and cold night.
Every line I draw ends up connecting my chest to yours.

Slide a note under my door with a drawing of hills that never stop rolling
If you decide
You want me like the mushroom wants rain,
Like the honey bee wants to serve its queen.
You bet your *** I just watched my favorite romance movie! Also, pain makes good poetry.
Ziayre Michaelis Nov 2018
I only know how to lie.
It’s how I learned to survive.
“Yes dad, I know where my sister went.”
“Yes mom, I saw my sister at home earlier.”
“No sister, I didn’t tell dad where you were.”
“I don’t know what set dad off today, mom.”
“The cat scratched me. He hates me.”
My entire childhood,
Lies paraded from me.
Some necessary, some out of habit.
Each falsehood rotted me so,
But it was so easy to smooth the tension
At my own expense.
Later, post home shattering,
My lies persisted.

They clung to me, a nasty aura.
The lies stayed in my nose,
Clouded my eyes,
Strangled my heart.
I knew it was wrong, knew my lies were no longer a matter of survival.
But I couldn’t stop.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just tired.”
“I tripped. You know how clumsy I am!”
“I don’t get it. Why?”
“I ate today. Check my lunch records.”
“I haven’t cut lately. See?”
With each lie I told,
A part of me was forsaken.
I couldn’t trust those around me,
Not really.
I felt strangely separated from others,
As if I was standing within a transparent cage
And they lived their lives on the outside.

I don’t know why I felt so isolated from others.
I think it’s the liar’s aura.
It’s frustrating, trying to reach out
And seeming to phase right through them.
People always gush over connections,
But I don’t know how to touch,
Much less connect.
People say they feel close to me,
And I smile,
Reciprocate the sentiment.
I feel nothing.
Just the same lonely isolation.

It’s as if I’m within an observation tank,
Simultaneously the specimen and scientist.
Am I broken?
Did I deny myself the ability to bond
In an effort to protect myself growing up?
Every time I think I know what it’s like to connect,
There’s a disconnect.
I think about my friends leaving me,
And there’s nothing.
I think about the ones I love dying,
And how it would affect me.
Aside from initial sadness and fear,
Is it shock and disbelief,
Or is it something worse?

I wander through life,
An empty ghost of who I want to be.
Solid enough for people to see,
But in all reality
Nothing substantial.
Feelings are tough, communicating even harder.
Sebastian Nov 2018
You turn around,
You call my name
But I no longer believe the same;
There's paper stacked upon your window pane.

The clocks are worn,
My boots are torn,
They've come some way since they were born
And things that shine often do not conform.

A whisper here
Is a thunder there,
A glass of wine to lay it bare;
Don't tell me silence dwells behind that stare.

You don't run fast
Because you must;
It's fine to break out from your crust
And build a smile that's free from all your ****.

We're far apart
But all the same;
Forget the shapes and forms and blame
And you will see we walk down the same lane.

I walk through eyes
So close and distant
Depending on how long the instant;
Some grow warm while others grow resistant.
Gods1son Nov 2018
Communication is the backbone of a relationship
Maybe not always about the talk frequency
But more about the authenticity
Communication driven by mutual understanding
Fuels a relationship that is outstanding

Undivided attention
Effective listening
Seeking to understand rather than listening to judge
Seeing with their eyes and not our heads
Respecting feelings and emotions
Finding common ground during disagreement
Disagreeing to agree

Effective communication is the ballast of a relation-ship
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