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Eleanor Sinclair Jan 2019
Do you ever wonder
if the painter
tires of his colors?
Matthew Jan 2019
He was someone who was thrown into the bland beige walls of his “school”
Interminable hours spent staring at the shining blue beyond his reach...
Only to be comforted by the violent wisps streaming from his parents mouths puncturing his heart
His vacant black mind only able to realize that he couldn’t
Reach that blue
Ever
He could stare at its inviting villas
But never be….

Until one day he took one of those many knives
From the drawer and his heart
And ran over to the blue
Piercing his soul with all those words
Painting over the lovely blue with his deepest red
And before he closed his eyes he could hear the bluebirds and cardinals sing
Yet another old poem of mine
Matthew Jan 2019
Do you ever want to be naive?
Yearn to be in those moments when you were foolish
Before knowledge tainted our innocence
Kambria Keelie Jan 2019
People ruin cities for me and next thing I know, I'm taking the longest route home.

I loved chocolate covered strawberries til someone told me that they remind them of me.

I think of all the sweet words that once made my heart melt... It's as cold as stone now and I cringe at the thought of someone calling me "their baby". Don't.

I'd rather have no one adore me than to have feelings for people who just ignore me.
Kathleen M Dec 2018
You're a dumb dude
Secretly filming the ****
You do shady *** **** and write poems about it
35 and writing like your 15
With poems like yours it's not hard to be mean 
Your just a man out of his prime bent on the obsene
The cops coming to your house clearly didn't freak you out
So maybe I'll tell your mom what your all about.

You **** and I hate everything about you. Stop writing poems about me.
A ****** little poem about a creepy guy I was seeing, he did some shady **** and I had to get the cop's involved. I found out the other day that he has been writing poems about me and posting them to social media. So this is my response. I may post this series to his social media depending on how I feel about it, I probably won't but I might.
Axel Dec 2018
a cold night
with hundreds of stars
there we were
trying to count the stars
trying to find what's inside
trying to understand
what is this feeling in our heart.

the acoustic guitar that you always play
the sound of the piano that lingers in my heart
the warmth of our hugs
the memories in our heart
we were clueless
we were dumb
but the love felt so real
felt so calm.

we were too young
too innocent
and too serious until everything messed up
the glass in our hand shattered
it dropped hard to the ground
it left us with scars in our hand
the story that we made didn't end with happiness
neither it ended with angriness
but it ended with laughter
because we were just a child
just a kid trying to find what is love.
Sara Kellie Dec 2018
The bones of the
not yet murdered,
hurriedly re-dressed
by the hands of the guilty.
Creating a cloak of invisibility
that no one can see.

Whispered words of
the guilty liars,
drowned in their own
breathy stench.
To conceal the truth
that no one can hear.

Words once tearfully written
still undiscovered.
(for time cannot heal)
that only I can feel.

The reaper knocks,
One, two, three
and I ask he call again.
Maybe tomorrow,
but I don't know why.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Saint Audrey Dec 2018
Did you
figure out how to feel
I've bled
Into all the colors here

Destined
To somehow die alone
I still
Don't understand the throne

Reverence
The summit's height
To capture
Finally fading light

It's all over
Before its begun
It's all over

Wonder why I can't give a ****
Something in the air's got me ******
I don't know, I just woke up
What can I say?
JB Dec 2018
****

Am I in love with him
Do I love him?
Is this what love feels like?
Or
Felt like...

Did I mess it up?
I think I did

******
I let him go. ****.
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