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Eli S.                                  10/3/17
To: Eli S.


Are you here yet?

Sincerely, Eli S.
KNS Sep 24
I am not tethered
Not yet
Not ever
I exist exclusively outside your gaze
I belong to myself now
You will not keep me here,
In fear and in folly
And I, I will not stay
Though I am weary of what awaits me
Let me rise, now
The strength of my atonement and courage
Will protect me
As I wonder into a page without your expectations of failure.
I choose to be free.
I have chosen sobriety for nearly six weeks. This is an ode to myself and everything I am becoming.
my mind can't take the positive words you speak my way and
my heart likes to skip a beat when your eyes meet mine
in the back of the room filled to the brim with people who couldn't care less about me or you
but you see me and we're there together, however, you're too good to be true

and it breaks my heart to know
that i have to let you go even though
i never actually had you

because we don't fit
even though
we think so
even with my charm and wits
you with your love and bliss

i feel inadequate
to give you what you need
i can't ask for what i want
out of fear you'll leave me standing here disgusted with my mind
and what I've thought of
so i pretend to feel nothing at all
and push you towards others
keeping my covers on
this side of the fall in love
this is a draft
Where Shelter Jan 2015
are you seventeen yet?

have the berries and the shells
stained impossibly
your youthful heart permanent,
have you matured and learned
to end sentences
in question marks?

surely certainty and
alack, its absence,
all your waking poems,
wonder does your mother know
what you’ve purloined,
stored in you
from her withins?

so young, so much love
oil spilling,
do you wonder about
the depth of the field
you are drilling, extracting -
is the soft supple supply,
so, close to the surface,

life so far is but a draft.

take copious notes
for the best is yet
and I await patiently
the novella of your
Zack Apr 17
Me: What's so hard about the first line?
Also Me: There's nothing difficult at all! It's just like baking a cake.
M: In what way, would you say, this is at all like baking a cake?
A M: Cakes, in a way, are a composition. They can come in a variety of flavors, from mundane munchies to extravagant favors.
M: You comic, that's pretty much everything in life; are you hoping to seem as if somehow you're wise?
A M: Before the first pour, a whisk or a spoon or something more, one must consider intention, constitution, and culinary inspiration.
M: it's a cake, that you bake, where the flour is the base, sugar the taste, and colors meant to decorate.
A M: No need to simplify, I ask that you rectify your pompous pontification.
Myself: writing, baking, what does it matter. We write, we bake, that's all that matters.
a writing exercise
Cathy Devan Feb 23
She hides behind the poems
That lay in her draft
Screaming to be published
Just publish the draft let them know you
Sylph Feb 22
Late night wishes
To be sleeping in your arms
Smelling your scent
Feeling yours arm holding me
Against your warm skin
The rise and fall of your chest
As you breathe in and out
Searching through drafts
Sorta worth sharing I think
Rasha Joie C Feb 7
A guy from the car trunk
Changed his hair from black to brown
He's as big as a rock
But as soft as my arms
He makes dull moments happy
For me, he's my Spidey (Spiderman)
A person I can stick with
His eyes are full of sadness
But no one notices except me
He laughs, smiles and sometimes cries
I can hear his heartbeat,
but care not to share it
To me he's not just nobody,
but somebody I want to keep
Published this after almost 3 years
who would love a man like me?
A soul imprisoned by the idea of love.
A man that may not be perfect.
But a man that can definitely try to be everything you need.
A man that doesn't need you to tell me what to do.
But a man that can make your skin crawl when i come home to you.
Make you tremble to my touch and be lifted by your words.
I may not be the best man, but I will change for the better.
I will keep searching to find a girl like you, because you say you want me as a friend.
When I want you to be the only one I look towards.
We don't have to be perfect, we can both be broken.
It will be messy, but it will be our mess, we can pick up the pieces together.
I know I am selfish, they say there are plenty of fish in the sea.
But today I feel like a shellfish because as long as you are around me I feel at home.
You are the most beautiful rose in a field of thorns.
i will walk through it all, and wear my scars happily to show what I went through to hold you.
So i ask, will you love a man like me.
This is part of a project I am doing called the colour wheel. It is a draft piece and isn't very organized right now. I would love feedback moving forward with it.
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