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N W 5d
A multitude of firsts.
Some he takes,
others I give freely.
Ejiro Oct 24
it was either during middle school or junior high school
honestly, I can't remember
my English teacher told us to write a poem
didn't matter if it was long as a railroad station
or short as a pathway shortcut
"Just write" she said
she gives me a piece of paper and pencil
and told me a few examples that I can use for my first poem
but one example sparked my interest
"You can write about your favorite color" she said
so, with that in mind I start to begin writing
I wrote about the color blue
and things that have that color in it:
the sky
ocean waves
blueberry muffins
blue jays
sadness and sorrow
depression and numbness
the pain of being found guilty
the feeling of emptiness
being left alone
and showing signs of loneliness

I went on and on until my fragile hand started to cramp
but when I reached the end of my poem
I realized something very peculiar
blue wasn't my favorite color
yet I had presented blue in a way far more than just a “primary” color
When I submitted it to my teacher
she said that she loved it and gave me a good grade
later, when I got my paper back
I reread it a few times
crumbled it up to a ball
and chucked it into the nearest trash can
hoping that no one would find it
Now that I've gotten older
blue is one of my favorite colors now
Bansi Adroja Oct 14
I'll never be 21 with anyone else

There will be no other voice on the other end of the phone after that time I got fired
or holding me close after I tanked that exam about the history of the European Union

No one else will be the first person I fell in love with
or the first to let me down

We had our highs
and more than lows than I can count
but it was something spectacular for the years we had

I still think of you every October and the day we first met
How much things have changed

How you're one thing I don't regret
nina membreno Oct 12
Theres part of me that doesnt know you.

Theres part of me that knows you.

Theres part of me that wants to know you.

But theres part of me that doesnt want to know you at all.



A bigger part of me.


The biggest part of me.

And over time it's become all of me.
I don't want to know you.

All of me never wants to know you.



Ever again.

but i cant seem to forget you.
help me forget you.
Erwinism Oct 8
The sun was still cold in your breath,
half-awake still dreaming and we are way past that hour,
just waiting for the first light to break in and steal the dark away like a stereo.

The air was fetid,
reeking of sad news,
swirling about,
but we moseyed along carrying dustpans and brooms,
lugging garbage bags
like we were sanitation Santa,  sweeping cigarette butts,
and in them I saw burnt time,
and in them I see mounting bills.
The cold air was doing a number
on us, dumping its oblique
sorrow on our then ragged frame
as we emptied waste baskets.

At times when I utter the word doctor,
your eyes go creamy,
your ears wag,
perhaps I was doing an impression—
an echo
of a forgotten life.
People were still groggy on their cardboard beds, their lips wearing soot as they drooped down on the side of their faces, the night weighed heavy on them.
Unlike most sight that slide through and veer away from despair in the flesh, yours fell on them with flecks of your heart knowing that from them we are dimes apart.
We swept, but your broom was nimble, springing into life in those days. Out of nowhere your hope swung a fist. I always remembered those words like a promise and held on to them like a limb.
“Though the world may forget, don’t dare forget who you are.”
Davis J Posey Sep 14
Far away, I see a man
Standing tall on rocks of sand.
Careful not to move or breathe.
Fearful of what may break beneath.

He sees me, too,
Wading in a pool of blue.
Here I have stood for years,
Now tired from all of my fears.

The water whispers my name,
Saying I am not to blame.
She offers me rest.
And lulls me to take one last breath.

But the man warns me to keep my head above,
Warning me of the devil’s dove.
If I die, so will he; even now, we totter
Scared, I may drown in three feet of water.
I need to move on,
I need to hate her.
But the promise we made
for our love to last forever—
the magic of that promise
worked a bit too well.
My first poem that's posted here <3!!! Yeah, sure, you guys will get A LOT of depressing Sapphic poetry... unless something that I think will never happen, happens.
Kayla Eve Aug 28
years, I thought I wasn't destined to love.
naivety really, for I was so young.
but I had just never felt something quite that strong.
fake love, sure.
affection, obsession, nothing more.
maybe I fooled myself into thinking I loved,
merely swept my doubts and grievances under the rug.

now that I'm really falling in love,
I can understand.
a feeling so gentle and yet like quicksand.

I feel myself sinking deeper
and yet wanting to be swallowed,
to lie in his arms forever
the day never to reach tomorrow.

it's frightening really,
"my first love"
the stories of heartbreak you hear from everyone else.

I may not find the courage to tell him.
to wrap my arms around him and confess.
to lay my heard out on his chest.

completely vulnerable
Maria Etre Aug 28
I severed
ties
and all I have
to give you
is a band aid
to stop the
bleeding
for I am robbed
of all my
FIRST AID KIT
of affection
Anemone Aug 18
( translated from french )

I was not actually hungry anymore
Yet I still got another slice of cake
Because I liked the taste
And because this slice
Does satisfy
My greed
For now .
here it is , my first post on here ! i'm a little nervous , but i'm also excited to be sharing my work with people for the first time ever .
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