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Ron Dec 2016
If I could have one last conversation with you,
I would tell you how much I love you
I would show you how much you are missed
We'd laugh at terrible jokes
And we'd reminisce
If I could have one last conversation with you...
alasia Dec 2016
Late night conversations don't count. His proclamation of love is a mix of sleep deprivation and depressive episode. Do not divulge your own feelings for in the morning his words will be discarded while yours are waved like a flag. His heart is bait to trick you into falling and his net withstands isolation and space, the moment he was in danger I cried behind the wheel of my car wondering how he could be so stupid and how I could care so much. In the morning he's still not yours, he never had been he never would be. He never loved you, never needed you, never cared how you hurt yourself and how you tried to repair your damages. You can't let go though. That's okay. Evolution is the key. Build an immunity to his words, he knows what you want to hear, accept, accept, accept, except maybe, no. There are no exceptions, no maybes just acceptance. You can be strong without his support and you can survive even the latest of nights, you can feel without losing to him as long as you know how to play the game.
??????
Sam Nov 2016
Now* whispers the serpent, do you feel my pain?

What pain? I ask, fearing it's response.

Oh child, dear, you are still blinded

Blinded? But my tears were as red as the embers of burning coal! I felt them burn as they slid down my guilt ridden face. These tears, you said, would let me see.

Ah. Only you can cure yourself, I have not that power.

Yet you have the power of temptation, to show me my flaws, my insecurities. To point out every little thing I've done wrong. Saying the thing I should've said, in the stories you repeat over and over! I scream.

I am a figment of your imagination. You tempt yourself my darling.
You have the power


I have no such power, you underestimate my abilities. If I could stop it I would!!

No you wouldn't Deep fiery glow radiates from the sly serpent's eyes.
*You like it too much
Kay Ireland Oct 2016
He asked me why.
It wasn’t the kind of thing that had
An explanation, or needed one.
Still, he asked why.
It was intrinsic.
I had never thought it through before.

It has something that home doesn’t.
He asked what.
It has you. That’s important.
He asked why it mattered, why he mattered.
Everyone else is gone and you’re here with me.

He asked why it meant so much.
Home has no culture of its own.
We are a melting ***.
Our history has us playing a part.
Our countries share a common villain.
The difference is, we became ours.
You didn’t.


He asked why here, why now.
You view this place like I view my own.
You’ll never see it the way I do.
There is no conversation in bars,
Just fingers and tongues and fake names.

You look at me when I speak.


He asked if that was all.
No, of course not.

Those uilleann pipes make me cry.
I have no nation,
No reason for pride.
My songs and stories
Do not hold the same depth.
You tell me who you are
And it means something.


He touched my arm and the universe swallowed me whole.

Do you want to go home? he asked.
Absolutely not.
Do you want to leave? he asked.
*With you, absolutely.
Andrea Vasquez Oct 2016
A split second can change everything
A sudden kiss
A pull of the trigger
A simple step

Can change your entire life
Whether it’s a good or bad second is up to you

A hour of conversation can change you
Secrets and Confessions
Experiences and Arguments
Taking the time  to understand

It can change your perspective
It can change your actions

What you make of it
How you see it
How you respond
Is up to you

Just make sure it’s a good one.
Mae Oct 2016
it seems so nice
how very few people
just get you

the way you talk
the way you think
the way you feel

no filters
no walls up
they just *get you
There are people, even strangers, that we just connect to easily. And that connection is so heartwarming :)
koreen Oct 2016
Why are you hurting when we're talking about your future with him?*

Because this is all it will ever be, a conversation. There won't be follow-up steps or updates, nothing. It will all stop here. We'll just make plans but i won't ever be able tell him about these nor will he be able to make them happen.

This is all it will be ㅡsome hope to hold on to but it's too fragile to carry my heart. And it's better to be hurting now than to hope and be hurt more later.
Oskar Erikson Oct 2016
There's a fine line,
between
Arrogance------Confidence

Mr Tightrope Talker
JAMIL HUSSAIN Oct 2016
''My imagination of a poet and poetess
sharing their first conversation.''*

Poetess:
Gazing upon your clay-cup,
My eyes judge that you are alike,
So raise your crown, and wake-up,
O' my dreamlike!

Poet:
My soul a boundless wave,
Seeks a ray of light in solitude,
You seem a queen and I a slave,
Perhaps your eyes are hued?

_

Poetess:
O' ruler, disguised in veil,
Thirst in your eyes an ocean for me,
And my soul has pined for such zeal,
You are bliss on earth craving for me.

Poet:
Aroma of your gentle devotion,
And a stir of my visions have raised the wings,
My passion is scattered alike dust in the winds,
O' wise and brave, what is your emotion?

_

Poetess:
Your presence before me, an arrival of moon,
My heart opening its eyelids to a new majesty,
And the soul is dancing in the rapturing monsoon,
O' beautiful, my yearnings lay in your agony.

Poet:
O' elegance of such heavenly delight,
Your beauty a messenger to my heart,
And my soul lay in extremes of your excite,
O' pearl of my pride, my image and my art.

_

Poetess:
O' merchant of intoxicating whispers,
Ecstasy arises from within your tongue,
New clouds of joy are unveiling in my heart,
And may such unity never be apart.

Poet:
O' morning dew, if you dare come close,
My affection wants to hold you in its arms,
Waiting are my kisses on a throne of rose,
And elating are your splendid charms.

_

Poetess:
O' beautiful, O' flowing stream,
Embrace my soul in your captivity,
I desire to be seized in your esteem,
And my heart rests in such festivity.

Poet:
O' blessed wine, O' sweetness of my existence,
Your love arose like the morning sun upon my chest,
Elevating me and pouring like a spring within my breast.

✒ ℐamil Hussain
Pauline Celerio Oct 2016
"So you fancy yourself a writer?
One who dances with words?"

"And one who travels in worlds, sings stories of youth.
One who wonders and wanders, and seeks the depths of the truth."

"And she rhymes too. I do hope to have her sight soon, for chances to make her swoon.
So where does she go, and with who
Sights of gold meant for two?
If lights do shine for one,
could i be one with you?"

"Distance is only just a number, and the words will be our bridges.
And if the lights do shine for us,
Then let the night be our witness."

"So then I must build and travel. Across the world and under stars.
With hope, and hope alone that one day will be ours."

"Hope is a riddler, and life is a fiddler.
And hope--hope will be the silver in the clouds of gray.
And hope is having to meet you, on a one fine day."

"So what should I do, or where might I go?To make real a dream, effort I am keen
To have you; words something more that I can read."

"Oceans--the oceans divide us
But the sky surrounds us.
And I live in the land of people from all walks,
The "promised land"--
The land that promised bounty
The land that promised ecstasy."

"I've seen the sun set over the sea, greeted the man who I call me.
There are times in my life when he will suddenly leave,
but I wish for one day when you two meet."
This is an actual conversation I had with a person. It would be a shame not to immortalize it here. Kudos to you Kyle, you're a great writer!
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