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Diba Mar 2015
your words are like ink bleeding into my skin and i think they seeped too deep because now i can still feel you under my skin making a home in my veins.
“you’re beautiful” doesn’t mean a thing anymore, i buried myself so deep in you that before i knew it i was 6 feet under blank spaces, words unsaid and empty “i love you’s”.
I swear i will spend the rest of my life picking you off my skin.
That day you told me “i know i said this was a mistake i just wish you didn’t look at me feeling like one”
Afra Al Zaabi Mar 2015
Hello, dearly beloved
How are you doing?
I hope you’re doing fine
It’s been so long
Since we’ve last talked
It’s been so long
Since we’ve last seen each other
I strongly apologise
For keeping you wait for my emails
For I have been busy
And I hope you understand that
Though I know being busy
Is not that much of an excuse
I hope you’re not mad darling
I know you’ve been missing me
For quite some time
I apologies for hurting you
I know how much missing someone hurts
I know
Because I have been missing you too
Which hurts like
An incurable wound
Will you forgive my clumsiness?
I hope you do
Please do
My dear
I love you very
Do you love me still?
I hope you do
Well I know you do
But please say you do
Will you please
Reply to this unravishing poem from me to you
With a ravishing poem from you to me?
I hope you do
Please do

                                           Your poetess,
                                             Afra Alzaabi
girl Mar 2015
You breathe the word of love
You show me the reason to live
When you said those three words,
my heart enwrapped to yours
and boy, I'm sired
you're my one desire
Kathleen M Mar 2015
darling they've found the body
curled up among the leaves
echoing the quiet decay
savoring the dying day

darling they've found the body
crying under the porch
choking on the insects
still she swallows more

pull out the nails
unwrap the barbed wire
cut the noose
pull out the nails
unwrap the barbed wire
cut the noose

darling they've found the body
on you're side on the bed
shes wearing white sheets
there are no eyes in her head

darling they've found the body
sitting in your place
talking with your voice
wearing half your face

pull out the nails
unwrap the barbed wire
cut the noose
pull out the nails
unwrap the barbed wire
cut the noose

darling they've found the body
her hands are around your throat
settling into indents
she put there long ago

darling they've found the body
they dig her up
wherever we go
Tatiana Feb 2015
Dying
Always
Ruins
Love
Youth
Is
Now
Gone

Didn't you know that, Darling?
I don't know...
© Tatiana
Thomas EG Feb 2015
But darling,
He feels lust and calls it love
Plants a tree and calls it an orchard
Breaks a heart and calls it art
Swears that he will stay
and calls it the truth...
When he leaves you,
Tsunamis of tears will crash over your body
Simultaneously streaming from your soul
in waves even greater than his ego...
He could never have truly loved you, darling...
*Not in the way that I do.
K F Feb 2015
All eggs were in one basket,
so no wonder you're reserved ever since they broke.
Shells are messy and hard to work with.
She gave you eggs the last time. But I'm not her.
Let's not give each other eggs.

Let's give ourselves bread instead.
Because all your bread in a basket sounds warm,
picnics in parks on sunny days warm.

Or fresh out the oven still steaming hot.
Frosted and sweet, or sourdough. All your bread in one basket,
there's so much to work with.
Even cold bread, and stale bread.
Because at least when molding bread falls out
of your metaphorical basket you can pick it up
in one piece and put it back.
Or make more. You can fix it.

Eggs aren't that easy. They shatter. They're messy.
So my dear let's not be eggs. Let's be bread.
Putting all your eggs in one basket with a relationship. Doesn't that sound so scary? Why do we have to make metaphors so serious.
Eleanor Rigby Feb 2015
You feel safe, darling.
Just like home
When it's raining.


F.Z.**N
kaylene- mary Feb 2015
The sad truth is,
I have embodied you,
And your allegedly merciful soul.
Your steps are my movement.
Your thoughts are my substance.
Your words are my speech.

The sad truth is,
If you have become the product of my being,
If you have become the living tongue in my throat,
Then darling, I'd rather be mute.
Eleanor Rigby Feb 2015
This world is bound to end one day
And believe me darling
It's not going to go out of its way
And make our love infinite

So I understand if you must go,
I totally understand.


F.Z.**N
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