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The summer air lies
Thick and sweet
It reeks of flowers and over ripe berries
The sweat drops twinkle in the heat
A visage of the real pearls we wish we could carry
The girl breathes heavy
Is it the summer heat?
Glittering eyes at the sweat that glistens
And the muscled hands that trails
The fascinating work of waves and dunes
It runs along and dives into an unknown world
Her eyes flutter at the sudden chill
The clouds roll in with the rain that wets
Everything to cleanse a world of sins
The thunder is loud and she violently shudders
It’s as if she’s the source
Like atoms come together.
Tethered ©️ 2021 Jana Pelzom
I don’t know if I can ever write about *** like it wasn’t some horrific thing or something to be unconsciously ashamed of or afraid of, but I tried. Most of us are bound, by fear, curiosity or lust for more.
Ozuru 2d
A memorized murmur again in my mind,
And once more, it wasn’t at all kind.
I could feel the water in my eyes,
And now, It’s all gone, my disguise.
It’s the same tears that
I felt all those years ago.
In my skull was that retained frozen photo,
A memory, too difficult to remember,
To this thought, I once again surrender.
All this was, was another ticking time bomb,
That was going to blow when I was once again calm.

I can’t escape it,
I’m trying to run away but I’m too unfit,
Right now I’m captured and I’m not sure how to escape,
Maybe I should stay here and just wait,
For something to happen or nothing at all,
At least here there’s no wall,
To what is real and what is fake,
And from all this pretend I get a tremendous backache,
From carrying the weight of trying to seem okay,
Because that fantasy is all an act as if I was on Broadway.

If I stay here,
I’ll do what I feared,
To end my life,
Over some silly strife.
But won’t that mean the memory won’t repeat?
Won’t that mean all my suffering will be a deadbeat?
No longer will I have to feel pain,
That goes around in my stupid old brain.
All I’ll feel is peace,
But who will find me?
That’s the missing puzzle piece.
I don’t want to traumatize another soul,
Because that was never my goal.
I just want the pain to stop,
Not for it to be swapped.
Natalie 3d
The keyboard on which I type has built
A layer of gunk, finger oils, and
What have you

My houses are formed of chicken scratch
Wooden board, then - nail, another board, it's
Just practice

A Hallmark life and coffee spoon lines
Too chicken to scratch - an itch, the surface,
Toothless skin

So maybe just maybe, peel yourself up from the world
Claw the sensation away wherever it comes
For ****** mere moments, let yourself become unfurled
Jane 3d
What is Perfect?

Hitting the 1800.
Remaining between the 400-600.
Using the 1/2 and the 1/4.
Because I will never be 1/1, fully complete.

What will define me? What can define my worthy?
In guarantee, undoubtedly.
Like an object, priced and tagged with money.
Value through digits, simple, observable.

How can someone know if art is worthy of display?
All beauty needs an audience.
Beauty in solitude, is wasted potential.
All beauty, needs, an audience.
How else can you differentiate average, from a masterpiece?

I want to be a masterpiece.
Perfect for every eye.

My eyes see perfect too.
In 1/4, in a 1/2, in a 1800.
In the symmetry of the X, and the curve of the S.
I am eXtra Small.
I am a 53.

Numbers are simple, precise and perfect.
They aren't beautiful, they simply are.
Beauty is abstract, it's grey.
I don't like grey, it's uncertain, unsure.

Grey has room for error.
Grey can't be controlled.

I don't have room for error.
I can only control.

I want to be undeniable.

Perfection, over all else.
people are so scared of each other
they can not make eye contact
in the super market
on a crowded train
they keep their heads bowed
praying i will leave
like i have a bomb hidden
underneath my sleeve
i take a crazy leap of faith
say hello
give a friendly wave
then wait for them to detonate
they keep their heads bowed
If I could tell you how I missed you in one paragraph
The first line should not be the same as what I feel right now
The words that I used to be love actually gone
I will write it as far as I have done
I could not explain all of the memories in my head
Everything I can hold was staying in my bed

If I could tell you how I missed you in one paragraph
I am not sure I could write to you
The sounds that I hear
It is all I will bear
And it’s now standing to fear

If I could tell you how I missed you in one paragraph
My lips were tightened
My eyes were blinded
My ear was deaf
My hand was holding all of the lines that now hope my heart could fine
Indonesia, 15th September 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho

I never tried to hurt you, I never ever wanted to hurt you. There is no way that you can write without drawing out the best parts of the warmest and most loving hearts, but every time ones such as yourself draw from me (without your even knowing it) the best I have to give in response, I still somehow end up ******* it all to hell.

There is no way whatsoever that a person who conveys their innerworkings and trauma the way that you do should ever slip through the cracks-- unloved, unheld, and un-cared for by loving, supportive hearts.. (and I'm not talking about romantic love..)
I have an idea who it is that you are in real life, by what you have chosen to convey of yourself and your story throughout the years.. but that doesn't really matter either, I guess

because history tells me that my unfiltered way of talking would just **** that up also.

But if an honest struggler such as yourself wanted a ****-up artist to never give up responding from the heart.. if that is what it takes to help keep the wild, unfettered ones like you (at least, writing-wise) from slipping, alone into despair, then that is what I will do.. not give up either.

But trust me when I tell you, babe.. I am burned out also.

Never, ever give up believing. If there were enough ones such as yourself (as to what you are writing here), or even just you, alone-- continuing to write open-heartedly the way you have in the past, and again here.. I promise that I would not give up also. If you want to be held closely when the ravens come and have picked your hope clean, then that is what you will most likely receive.. and I dont necessarily mean from me. I have studied your heart and spirit through your chosen posted words almost since the very first day I got here.

There is no way that others cannot both see and feel those things also, kid.

Hold on to that.
E pensando di lei,
Mi sopragiunse uno soave sonno
and kisses in the balcony

little soldiers
showing dogtags
to get a free refill

before duck and cover drills
at intermission

it's all one big movie

whether the summer rockets
arrive with Flash Gordon

or by way of Cuba
Little walks and little talks
Simple kiss to simple bliss
Unexpected chances for unexpected advances
Hearts embrace then hearts that race
Hidden moments and hidden fears
Secret longings and secret tears
Lady Ravenhill 2021
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