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Katie Jan 2020
Woolen caps and puffy coats
The crowd yet further bloats
On and on and another one yet
Totaling an ever higher net
No room to breathe here
Claustrophobia
Rising
Rising
A thousand thousand men
A ***** glare too often
A single crimson strand
Hidden in the most common brand
Alone
Alone
Forever
Erian Rose Jan 2020
Our love is different
Random and weird
But every moment spent
Makes me love you more

I'll spend forever with you
To be in your arms
While you kiss me
In the future we make
am I really that hard to love?
or am I just unlovable?

it's my fault for pushing everyone away.
it's my fault because I'm never there.

it's my fault.
is it?

am I really that hard to love?
or am I just afraid of getting hurt?

am I really hard to love?
should we love?

how does one love?

am I really that hard to love?
or it's just we all love differently.

what is love?
It's been a while...
levi eden r Jan 2020
you came and left my life quicker than i could tell anyone that you felt like home.
i should've known that because you felt like home that things would be broken and imperfect,
yet i still loved you and loved us.

i can't forget the first time i heard your voice.
i describe the moment as a moment that can never be forgotten but i can't even remember what you said.
you just sounded like an angel and even before that day,
i knew i wanted to be yours, that maybe,
just maybe,
we were meant to be.
but hearing your voice felt like the universe confirmed it.

maybe it's stupid young love.
both of us only 18,
barely 18,
and so in love like we knew what it was and what it meant.
but it felt like we invented it.
they'll never understand the electricity and warmth that was sent through your fingertips to mine.

we talked about grocery shopping together, cooking together, living together, loving together, being together,
forever
as if we weren't in different universes,
different books.
because that's where things went wrong again.
that was the second error in Us.

one, you felt like home.
two, we were both in different universes.
twitter: @omw2you
instagram: @awake6.23
Without a trace
                              Without a face
A name no longer used
           Eyes that are no longer met
                     Hands that don't feel
   Ears that don't hear
              Leaving no memories
  Leaving no legacy
             Is that what it means to be
        Forgotten?
Are you forgotten? How would you even tell?
Mujen Suraj Jan 2020
Always,

You choose tea,
and,
I go for coffee.

We accept our choices,
then we sit together.
we share similarities,
no other has.
Sometimes there are differences between two individuals in their preferences, choices, and beliefs, but still, they care more about the similarities they hold more than the differences.
They seek for the blank spaces.
Blind Eye Dec 2019
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⠠⠊⠀⠺⠑⠇⠉⠕⠍⠑⠀⠮⠀⠚⠥⠙⠛⠰⠞⠀
⠠⠁⠝⠛⠑⠇⠎⠀⠙⠊⠋⠋⠻⠰⠑⠀
⠠⠏⠗⠕⠧⠫⠀⠮⠀⠙⠊⠎⠍⠁⠝⠞⠇⠬⠀
⠀⠠⠿⠉­⠑⠀⠁⠍⠰⠛⠀⠀⠍⠽⠀⠙⠑⠍⠕⠝⠎⠀⠀
⠠⠙⠑⠋⠑⠝⠎⠑⠀
⠠⠊⠀⠗⠥⠝⠀⠞⠪⠜⠙⠀⠃⠥⠗⠝⠬⠀⠓⠊⠇⠇⠎⠀⠷⠀
⠠⠁⠏⠏⠗⠑⠓⠑­⠝⠨⠝⠀⠯⠀⠓⠁⠞⠗⠫⠀
⠠⠊⠠⠴⠍⠀⠁⠞⠀⠏⠂⠉⠑⠀⠮⠀⠎⠰⠛⠀⠍⠽⠀
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⠠⠇⠕⠧⠑⠀⠮­⠀⠍⠁⠝⠀
⠠⠊⠍⠏⠻⠋⠑⠉⠰⠝⠀⠙⠑⠍⠯⠎⠀⠊⠞⠠⠴⠎⠀
⠠⠎⠉⠜⠫⠀⠷⠀⠮⠀⠙⠑⠧⠕⠰⠝⠀
⠠⠞⠕⠀⠃⠑⠬⠀⠐⠕⠋⠀
⠠⠊⠍⠀­⠊⠍⠏⠻⠧⠊⠳⠎⠀
https://dennislaj.wixsite.com/website
Luis Valencia Dec 2019
I kissed your palms
And offered you all my praise .
You took me in your hands
And molded my heart
You made me into art
You made me feel whole.

You planted yourself inside of me
Your roots dug into my body
You nourished yourself
From my pain.

You used me as a host
For your lonely soul.
You left when You were done feeding.
When I had nothing left to give.

You left me hollow.
The art is gone.
You replanted yourself.
You found a new host.

I'm left as a blank canvas
an unfinished meal
half of a soul
because You couldn't commit.
If you give yourself to me I promise I'll be true to you.
Bugs Spencer Dec 2019
Wings flowing back and forth
Keeping little butterfly up
Wind challenging the little insect
Strong breezes tumbling

To the north
The little butterfly must go
The road not easy nor perfect
No time for bumbling

The bees may rumble and bumble
But not little butterfly
Little butterfly is silent and graceful
Now which of the two survives?
Sometimes I feel like a bee being loud and obnoxious. Other times I feel as if I am the butterfly keeping to myself; floating through life quietly. There is a time and place for both. If you are a bee at the wrong time you pay the consequences. If you are a butterfly at the wrong time you miss out on certain opportunities in life.
Cc Dec 2019
i screamed when he hit me
he laughed picked up a new object
hit me again
i cried
he laughed
pushed me  on the ground
kicked me
i stopped crying
he continued hitting
got bored
stopped hitting
whats funny is he only uses one hand
its amaazing what the damage of one hand can do
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