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Maria Mitea May 17
someone
that plows intimacy by the use of words

someone
that imagines by the use of words

someone
that touches by the use of words

someone
that cries by the use of words

someone
that dies by the use of words

someone
that hates by the use of words

someone
that loves by the use of words

someone
that kills by the use of words

someone
that wakes  up by the use of words

someone
that heals by the use of words

someone
that you know by the use of words

someone
that you want by the use of words

someone
that paints, lives, teaches, grows, speaks,
works, hugs, cleans, protects, keeps, creates, listens, ...
by the use of words

someone
that makes the world rise by the use of words
Poetic T Oct 2019
I fade like a dead match,
                 warmth still seeps..


But within I'm charred and
           unresponsive to your words.


You once lit my world, brightening

my every emotion.


But then you just faded like
           the space between moments.

Your light was there, then gone.

I wanted to rekindle us,
          but what is spent cant be brought.

You were the match that lit my wick,
         but then you were just charred
                                                        echoes.
­
We tried to relight what was there,
            but we'd burnt out to early.

even though I was lighting up,
                our corridors.
You were no longer there,
           extinguished before our time.

I knew we couldn't strike it again,
    it wasn't me, it was you.


And even though I shone for you,
        
    you could no longer hold a flame to
me.

And you
                    we, were just flickering
on the brightness of the past
Jack Jenkins May 2019
Yes, I lost her
But the pain I gained losing her
Was worth every second she was in my life
The broken heart in this chest
Holds the ghost of her tightly
And this heart
Remembers
All
//On her, love, and self//
Two years ago, on this day, I had a loaded shotgun in my lap ready to take my own life. I lost my best friend because of it. It's taken two years to even start to deal with that loss, but she would not want me to dwell on it. So I meet with her and talk to her memory everyday, like an old man who lost a wife of many years...
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