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fray narte May 19
and my fingers will trace these scars on your chest — they're no fault lines but darling, i can fall and fall and fold myself into wildflowers to which sunlight unfurls. but this world, it's a battlefield and red roses bloom not from the soil but from the skin and every death feels like the first.

every kiss feels like the last.

and darling, tomorrow, we have all the time to be broken. we have all the time to grow up. but tonight, let me hold you close; my hands are weary of writing elegies. tonight, let me drown in your seastorm eyes; i am tired of looking for temporary ports and for all the wrong shades of blue. tonight, i will read you poems about a girl named helen, who loved despite the war. tonight, the world can crumble down and i can stay right here, safe and sound in the comfort of your sighs, like a girl resting against bruised lilacs. i can stay right here watching you sleep until the earliest hours, forever asking myself how can someone so ******, so broken by this world possess this much softness.

this much gentleness.

this much peace.

regardless, rest your weary bones, my love. morning still is far away.
fray narte Dec 2019
“maybe in another life, louis,” i finally said, staring off at the distant city lights and buildings, feeling the cold creep insidiously into my bones. his name easily rolled off my tongue like a reflex — a muscle memory so deep-seated and yet so strange and unfamiliar now.

silence filled the air and yet, at the same time, it was filled with other things — defeat, heartbreak, resignation, the sounds of vehicles speeding off. the pain gnawing in my gut. the regretful yearning. the need to just be stupid and reach out for his hand. the pain of knowing i couldn’t. the finality of the ending.

and yet, here we stood, too close and too far.

he nodded and stirred lightly, as if preparing to leave. my gaze shifted into his direction. his movements, still slow and graceful, and lit by the moon. it was almost too painful, almost too delicate, almost too poetic. i could still remember what falling in love with him was like. i could still remember him breaking my heart for the first time, until the time where there are no more pieces left to break. and i would’ve done it all again.

he finally spoke, bringing me back to reality. it was almost too soft, too weak, but i heard it.

“maybe in another life.”
LN Apr 2019
He was tortured for months
Lived worse than in hell.
Nd after all those tryings
When he finally broke free,
He couldn't bring himself
To peace again.

"you need to face your demons to fight them"

So he went back to the town
He was held captive in for months,
Not expecting to meet the demon of his nightmares
Again on the same road he first met him.

"I can't bring myself to hate you"
"you've made me like've made me to like this"

So he decided to give his captor
All the hell he went through.
Not because he wanted to wrong
The other,
But because he wanted to give
His forced unconcious feelings
A reason to be satisfied.

But for the demon
The hell was not really hell.
It gave birth to a heaven
In his heart.

They both knew it
They both loved it
They both loved each other.
I read a fanfiction and i was so moved that i decided to dedicate a poem to it.
It was too good to be put in simple sentences....... It was crazy.


Only if you can deal with kpop.
amaya b Mar 2019
i couldn't stop staring as the coffee dripped from her lips
she hooked her thumbs under her belt loops, resting her palms on her hips
i admired the curls that fell atop her forehead,
feeling the glowing sensation as my cheeks burned red
her name was sweet, like chocolate on my tongue
and the only thing i could compare her to was our everlasting sun

based off of a fan fiction i was going to write but never finished. i really want to though...this poem was supposed to be by the main guy in the story, who's an aspiring poet in college, talking about the main girl, who he'd just *formally* met in a barnes and noble starbucks cafe. i don't know, maybe it's cliche, but i'm just really into that kind of thing. thought it was pretty cute.
By profession,
I am good at

I am used to
the cruelty
of human upon

wounds of wars
and words

delicate deceits that
brush lips with skin
and skin with finger -

like him, I look at bodies
and see stories
I see bruises and scars
that conceal secrets

I can read crimes
as clearly as if
they were written
in blood across
the scene

this game should be
beneath us

he is cruel
and offers a
chance, smaller
than anything
I’ve seen on a
microscope slide

but still, breathing
existing, taunting

leaving me breathless
and broken

it squeezes my
heart as if the
blood inside is
a poison that
needs extracting

my once logical
mind quivers
under his kiss

and empties

he is the ****
that grows beneath a flower
until it is too wild
to ****
A hospital roof
top – the world swelling
like a broken limb
beneath him


the air tastes
of car fumes,
***** – people
with their feet
covered in
the dust of

for a moment
my heart imagines
he is going to

away from the plan

I trust myself
enough not to
trust him
a gun -
shot wound
to the heart

breathe - just
******* breathe

he won't lie
still, and the
red pool reaches

reaching like a
hand towards

at my feet

I stare at it
and remember

we didn't laugh often

I'm not like

but we would succumb

I remember the feel
of his hair - the
way the roots
felt as I brushed
from them with
my fingers

my fingers remember
the touch of his

the scratchy,

why did he wear
the ******* thing?

the scarlet stain
has reached my toes

I fight the urge
to place my hand
in his

I need to focus
He needs to -


please, just listen
to my voice

put your heartbeat
into it

into me




he is becoming
heart -

why has he
chosen me
to save him?

twice now

he says I matter
the most but it's

he doesn't want me
he wants my

to find a body
and fake

to wait years
no - two years
in silence so heavy
I feel like my lungs
have collapsed

and now to pull him
through - back through
the cavity in his chest

to force the blood
back into his breaking

whilst my hands
shake with fear

night terrors

and the shape of
his face as I
drag him

(back to life)

by the roots of
his hair
I take tea in the afternoon
as I wait to hear his foot -
falls approaching

I am on
edge until they
kiss my ears in their
heavy booted sound

I add sugar cubes
distractedly, as my
mouth adjusts to
the taste of him

a heaviness on my
lips, upon my neck,
the scratch of a scarf
that looks softer

I imagine the scratch
of a vampire fang to be
worse, and breathe in and
out my prayers that at
least he is by my side
before nightfall

he is a thing of
paleness and impatience,
I am a woman who works
the dead into shapes
that speak

we both seek answers
but know they will not
be found in the arms of
each other

yet still,
our hearts beat
as one
Lyn-Purcell Jun 2018
Tomorrow is a new day unwritten

The next page of           my           own book of life

As I hold up my ink pen,                            you meet me there?

At the midpoint betwixt                  lumen days and umbra nights

As the world is itself,                                 made of evenfall rides into

the veil of grey.                                         Let the songs sing high,

and sorrow sing                                         low but be so sweet

that I'll feel                                           you in my soul

I await you on                                       the  bridge,

Kissing-sweet                                so come
and meet me                          there
This poem is based on a dream I had.
I guess reading a romance fanfic of one of my OTPs before bed paid off!
Thanks everyone so much for the kindness and the support!

Be back soon!
Lyn ***
Comparing her
With the other girl
Same face
Same taste

She's funny
And nice
The other one is cold
And fierce

They have the same voice
Same voice but different tones
Kind of similar
But will always differ

Once upon a time
This little girl was so nice
The other one is cold as ice
Suddenly, everything changed in a blink of an eye

She disappeared
Drifted away, faded
Left them behind
Left him behind

She left just before the spring came
She left just before the winter vanished
She left the night before
She left the night after a precious day

She left without saying a word
She left without saying goodbye
She left at midnight
Cold, but has a heart of fire

Snow, Snow
Please come out
Snow, Snow
Please stop hiding

Winter, Winter
Stop trying
Winter, Winter
You don't deserve him

Suddenly, Spring came
And everything changed
Everyone changed
Just like how the season changed

Let it snow, let it snow, let it sno- Wait
Was it still Snow I see?
Or Spring
Who creeps the hell out of me?

4 years had passed
But the feeling
It's always there
They won't just go away

Hey King
What would you choose?
Winter Wonderland
Or Let it Snow?
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