A walk to a known place,
I cannot help but glimpse the mirage of your face,

Finest of hair and the brightest of eyes,
It's here you caught me by surprise,

Serene moments like these were made to please,
Casted aside was our unease,

Yet, every moment predated,
If only you could have waited.

elowen morey Apr 6

I need to get the feeling of you
off my skin
it’s been so long
but yours is the only touch
I’m familiar with
//

E Feb 12

-
She caught a glimpse of him,
her senses paused
Her heart starting beating so loud,
it muted the world.
-

Those visions, recollections, dreams, flashes and sudden insights both overwhelm and confuse me.
All we ever do is exchange glances,
like only we can see each other in crowds and masses.
Like The Sun, The Moon and The stars, you and I are lost in a bizarre synchronicity.

What are you going to do
when everything you thought you knew
turns away and leaves you to the wolves.
What are you going to do
when the plans you once drew
are no longer legible.
What are you supposed to do
when your psyche turns to something new
and the voices in your head are no longer familiar.
What are you supposed to do
when you find out red is really blue
and you're a muddled shade between.

I don't know what I'm doing, if that isn't already perfectly clear.
Rachel Smith Jan 19

I know this sound,
I’ve heard it before.
As my feet sway to the beat,
It makes my heart sore.

I know this, My brain thinks,
As my feet dance to the beat.
As my ears hear the song.
I am free.

Where? Where?
Where have I heard this glorious tune,
As my feet continue to dance,
as if they were always meant to.

The song sounds familiar,
but I can’t remember.
It bothers me as I feel the beat.

I have a feeling,
a glimpse of a memory,
that I have done this before.

Muscle memory guides me,
as I waltz flawlessly.
All across the ballroom floor.

Thinking back to years prior,
I have come to desire,
the perfect memory and brainpower
others withhold in their head.

It bothers be so,
much more than I show,
as I glide and leap and dance.

I imagine where in my past
Where’ve I had such a blast,
as where I can feel the beat and sore.
Up and around this perfect dancing floor.

I end the dance,
with a nod and a glance,
to where the music if from.
He nods at me as I leave,
his face upholding a look of glee,
as he knows the name of the song I hum.

I forget what song I danced to,
I forget the words I heard,
I forget what beat I danced to,
but tomorrow I dance to it once more.

I remember nothing,
but remember everything.
Like my someone put my memory on mute.

I have no worry and I have no strife,
because I’ve named the mystery song in my head.
It seems only fitting,
to end at the beginning,
and name it what it is.

My Personal Song.
My Glorious Tune.
The Beat that Wakes my Muscles.

My Lovely and Divine,
My Shimmer and Shine,
My Heartbeat that Soars through the sky.

My Sound so Familiar To Me.

Do not Steal Please
I see this as a Dancer who loves a Song, but can't remember any aspect of the song unless the song is playing. Then she dances like a master because her body knows the song better than her mind does.
Dakota Perez Jan 2

(September 19, 2015 // 2:56 A.M.)

Years, and many of them, can run right passed us, and I’d still feel my childhood home knocking at my chest when I see you.

I’ll be 16, melting, and wondering why your lips look darker as your cheeks become more red.

You’ll always be familiar, your hands will always be cold during the summer, and your skin will always be the first canvas I painted with my whispers.

(d.p.xx)
Jami Samson Nov 2014

Somewhere
Along these piles of paper
Scratched and scarred
By pens and pains
That never finish anything,
I was read,
Understood
And continued.

Somewhere
Between conversations
Of screams and whispers
Lost in a sea of words
Meant and made-up,
I was found,
Believed in
And listened to.

Somewhere
In this great big clutter
Of thoughts and memories
Whether strangers or familiars
With futures and histories,
Your mind
Will always recognize
My mind.

#57, Nov. 10. 14

I knew you before
I have seen you in my dreams
Planning my demise.
-Aiyana

TheEndofForever Sep 2016

His last words to me echo
Haunting me to my very core
After all this time it's over
After all this, he leaves me sore
Emptiness comes back to me
A sorrow so familiar
Misery adjusts to its new home
A welcoming party that's killer
But why couldn't we just talk it out
But why couldn't we just be okay
Why did we have to do this at all
Why did you leave me this way

Laine Cavanaugh Sep 2016

This poem is for you.
This is exactly what you need, and it says it so eloquently and disturbingly personal that it makes you feel like I have trespassed through the barriers of your own sub-conscious.
I call out the scabs that your tears crawl from whenever you cry and make it sound wonderful when it is rather brutal
This is what you need, because all you have familiarized yourself with is warped into a mess of tar and vinegar, feathered with termites and pepper. It makes you feel awake and alive because someone finally understands and puts it into words.

This poem is for you.
You do not understand after a while and begin to move on, cursorily glancing over the seemingly glossed prose. You wonder why wasted time waters away faster than the rain that drips from your cheeks.
You needed something useless to gain sight of something worthwhile. It tears at you because this is pointless time you can never retrieve, a song you can never withhold, a bleeding heart you can never mend. An accepted denial, an angry forgiveness is what you need.

This poem is for you.
Simply because it is also for me. I see the pointlessness and yet I cannot freeze myself long enough not to explain. This is for me because I know what I need; I need to apply chapstick to drunken lips and gaping ravines and I realize that what I say isn't always what I mean
But this is what I need--Redemption is a two way street. Repentance is a u-turn. I cry as well, and I binge on the feelings you survive from.
Your life is my existence, and I can only make it sound beautiful through the sad tags you sing while walking home on a quiet street. It's for me, too, because I stay quiet to hear you.
To be heard is what you need.

My melody, my harmony, I hear you, and I sing along;
For this is what you truly need.
This is for you.

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