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Amoy Apr 2018
Five Years old, ugly and shy.
I saw you letting go and I cried.

Mummy! Mummy!  Please don’t go.
Will you come back?  I don’t know.

Mummy! Mummy! Do you care?
Please, please stay. I want you near.

She looked me in my eyes and said,
“Don’t call me that.  Call me by my name.

It’s Marcia.  Give it a try”.
That’s the last day I saw her…

Until sixteen years later, one day in late July.
Choderlos Aug 2018
Turning your back at me
Leaving through that door
Never to return again
I knew I'd never again be the same
Or so I thought

I saw this coming miles away
Patiently I waited for this day
When every passing day felt like a decade
What I felt was more than I can say

The tears that flowed
Were no tears at all
The heart that seemed broken
Suffered not the slightest scratch
I owe you many thanks
For the daily doses of pain
All the times we were together

You taught me all there is to know
Love like ours was not meant to last
Nevertheless we had our moments
Until that fateful day
The day you said goodbye
Luis Valencia Jun 2018
Taste the lies
On the lips
Of your lover

Tell me it isn’t delicious
The saltiness of lust
And the sweetness of pain

Tell me how you betrayed me
The way your lips move taunt me
They make me shake

I love hearing you say things
The vibrations of your voice
Take the thoughts of longing away

Kiss my hips
Kiss my chest
My lips

Tell me you love me
Even if its just lust
I want your lies

They fuel the fire
Of passion
In me

Even if its all
Just a fantasy
He kissed me once
Francie Lynch Jan 2018
In the womb he was connected
With a thousand years of family
Coursing through the tether
Of an unfortunate mother.
Then culled from the herd
In a distant cow town
For permanent loan.
With the pretext, the equivocation:

                 He'll have a better life.

When someone other deems to tell him,
He'll cry, he'll hide,
Reject, accept,
It's his need for human affection.

He can't forget what didn't happen,
A past that wasn't shared;
Of stories reaching back through years.
The anecdotes on celebrations,
The exaltations, deprivations,
Tales shared like bread
By lost generations.

All his life he's felt the itch
To scratch his DNA.

One day, the knock is heard,
Bells may ring,
There, standing straight on the stoop,
A refracted image of oneself,
Trans-parent cord through missing years.

Aye, there will be tears.

          (You'll explain your teenage fears,
           Your family's lack of understanding;
           The time when wanton women
           Had babies out of wedlock)

He listens to the reasons,
Stirred in the heaping crock.

He learned of love,
Was schooled with affection,
He knows he wasn't known to you,
That he was left
For personal sake.

He crosses fingers,
Like plated scissors,
To snip the cord he's hung on;
To sever the love,
You never delivered,
To a son
You never knew.
Martin Narrod Nov 2017
Take my fetus and go
Through and through the mighty seas,
Cleft of stubborn knocks and the bayonets
Rocking through and through the eves. Whose pirouettes and epilepsy crooked, Asunder, blessing the attenuated biology of Say, a field mouse or the hummingbird. What nuisance it transcends itself into. How It has marred even the plight to lock oneself In that windowless box of time. The Atemporal box featuring those curious amaranthine engravings about its sides, upon its top. Though the blood may not spill from side to side, and while the nellypot may collywaddle, there is an immense sincerity akin, fused afore to the intimacy of an authenticated orphic boketto.
Brent Kincaid Sep 2017
Did someone steal your youth away
And leave you as a tiny old-timer?
Did someone say painful things to you
And, like a coward, did they run away?
Was there any kind of warning
So you could at least adjust?
Or did they just leave you there
With no hope, no faith, no trust?

Open up your arms you angels!
See me where I languish!
Have you no caring word for me
To raise me above this anguish?

Was there one day pleasant skies
And dreams of a cheerful future
Then the next day you were all alone
With no one there for nurture?
The world becomes a darker place
When do people on which you rely
Make a choice between you and themselves
And leave you to live or die.

Open up your arms you angels!
See me where I languish!
Have you no caring word for me
To raise me above this anguish?

Looking for the face of love
And finding disapproval there,
Where else can a person go,
To learn of love and care?
Will they not find other things
With much less pleasant names;
With the risk the sufferer
Will find themselves to blame?

Open up your arms you angels!
See me where I languish!
Have you no caring word for me
To raise me above this anguish?
AmberLynne Mar 2015
I don't know what I'm feeling anymore.

He loves me,
     so why can't I let myself love him too?
     What's holding me back?
And he says he loves me too,
     so why am I so wary of his love, and often
     left feeling unfulfilled and deserted?
I don't love me right now,
     and when I look in the mirror
     I don't recognize this person
     in front of me anymore.

My nights are filled with
     stolen kisses and
     drunken ***,
     yet I'm always left alone
     at the end of it.
And it's then, when I'm
     lonely and tearful
     that I question everything,
     most of all
Joseph Aaron Nov 2014
Fear of absolution, relishing of hindrance.
  A wall of black, darkness that rests within
  To fall under blistering defeat to reiterate the blood red scrolls of sin.

Decimate remains of a hallowed grave,
  Torment and desire to those who strayed.
Falter under knowledge of an atrocious cause,
Beg for the black widow to hear you call.

Succumb to the temptation of a lustrous quintessence,
  Grasp at the hot wind of a deserts blast.
Underestimate the repudiation of the reserved contrast,
To be forever forgotten, but to always last.
Matthew Harlovic Nov 2014
I don’t deserve
to have someone so
deserving of another

© Matthew Harlovic
Just thinking.

— The End —