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Austin Draper Jan 26
Roll down the chair. Cut it up and sell it now. How much do you price an inch? A centimeter? Would you all give it away? For what, a stick?
For how do you price each strand?
Squeeze it and meld it, you only change the appeared shape and liquid absorbed. But it is what it is. For a light in brilliant colors whispers
“For better or worse, it is a rag.”
Out comes the stuffing. It made our cars go and now what? Should the rock come in and shout that each should be not unstuffed by introspection
Or is it theirs to introspect?
Made to know. But when does “The know” have enough to know itself and us? When does it’s eyes become eyes and read the words plastered on our face? When do we become “The know?”
Although making the container itself, we did and shouldn’t make the contents within. Be mindful of your portions and don’t spice
Because that’s the way it’s always been. ?
Talking about the nature of Objects, Are they always what they are? Do they intrinsically mean more than they are?
Allesha Eman Jan 15
If I told the stars what I know of you
They’d shine even brighter through the blue
And if I told the sea what you used to be
Then the tides would start dancing underneath the moon
So take me to the sunsets that never seemed to leave
The ones that would glitter on the surface of your view
If I told the wind what I remember of you
It would whistle in its glory and carry me back to you
Arianna Dec 2018
"... the earth trembles, and my soul swells

with all the frequencies of adoration

enraptured, a dove

          frail speck
          of dust


          weightless with exaltation..."
Ankita Gupta Dec 2018
Fragments, the stone remembers
The walls echo the tale
Moments, life in reflections
Memory tickles the brain

Jail, like death forever
Prisoner becomes the *****
Life, journey to surrender
End is the game
Amber Dec 2018
they were both broken
with many fragments to pick
some couldn’t be placed back
but her pieces could fit into his
they slowly assembled back the puzzle
and they were as a whole
no longer broken
however soon they left each other
with broken parts of each other
that will stay with them forever

Johnny walker Nov 2018
Dark befalls me now
only the light of a
silvery moon to cast
a beam of light across
the remaining
fragments of
Shattered pieces of my
life once I shared with
my wife, can't put the
pieces of once shared
life back together
Descending darkness silence all around me now
astraea Nov 2018
i am falling apart.
i sit alone, with torn garments i can’t bear to throw away,
wonder about a life -more like a pipe dream,
when in reality when we try, we are the type they write sad piano odds about.

i say goodbye,
pulling my sweater close to my chest shivering by the door,
and picture us in a warm place, surrounded by people offering us hands,
dancers moving around us, soft and slower.

whispered words, becoming us.
but i can’t whisper to you, because my voice comes out in screams,
yet all i hear is an orchestra the rest of us could never afford,
only dream of.

we try so hard,
and by the time we’re at the top -we shall be,
i think i’ll have lost you,
to the vines that break the soft stones in the sun.

do lovers, the ones who have love,
that seems as if it’s boundless,
in death that makes it timeless,
live in time, or do they ascend to the stars?

will it ever be that the last time becomes the first time,
as each touch becomes more intense,
because each touch is so much closer to the last time,
when i know you’ll fall into a future you hate.

lingering fingers,
pressed against your soft skin,
who’s soft skin?
hers, hers, hers?

fingers that press with more and more urgency,
arms that wrap tighter and become more frail,
eyes veiled with more and more sadness,
our love could fall to ruins.
inspired by james bond, bad dreams, sufjan stevens, crushes, adele, love, dreams, and some other ****. yes i write poetry and watch spy movies don't ask.
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