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Mose 4d
To be seen for the first time;
Your palm pressed firmly against my cheek but I felt it radiate in my chest. Watching your eyes gazing the horizon of my pupil. Getting lost in the breathless moment of our desire escaping. I don't think there are enough thank you's to be said about that moment. By now I would have already created an extended fantasy of this night turning into a lifetime, but not this time. This moment shall be pressed like lilacs in between my journal just as is. This time I don't pray this road leads anywhere other than where it actually ends. I could have said I loved you in that moment but I waited till after you left & just told the universe thank you. Thank you for whatever this transforms or ceases to be.
I want to stand,
on solid ground,

a canopy covered cloud,
to dream all day-round,

I want to live,
my best life,
and breathe,
like there's only,
today
https://www.instagram.com/wutheringsbronte/
Jake Mar 14
There is no secret meaning to life,
Nor is anyone special.
To be honest, I don’t really care.
I’m not too fond of fate,
And I never wanted to be special.
I simply wish to live,
And create my own purpose.
Romeos  never come too late
to rescue your Juliets
Juliets don’t wait in vain.
Life is too precious.

Shell ✨🐚
Priorities in life!! The years are passing by much faster then you think!!
Always try to do your best. Be happy.
Zizile Tantsi Feb 10
I have chased after walls, smiles and hearts in this life time but I lost all of them.
Listen, I lost my sense words and worth, So I couldn't even send sweet nothings out to world, It was the masses that spoke for me, A bone or two I could have had. But the voices screamed louder than the symphonies of grace deep in my soul.

I left marks of anguish and turmoil in my trail but
Happily dug for the light under the soil
Only to find poisonous stares,
Stares of spite and unworthiness
By time, those stares became a stolen mirror image of myself.
I cried out to the universe in pieces of broken records, my pleas could have turned into gracious melodies but the lack of belief in the  letter "I" crippled that faith.

Anyway, I could tell you that this is the life I live, But since when does a caged bird live?
Tired and burned out I whisper, before I leave,
Could look my way and let your fluorescent light capture my weary heart
Embrace my arms with truth of the self, Within that knowledge I believe I will be reborn.
Remember to look my way and lend me that spark of hope to actually LIVE without regret,
Before I leave, receive me and mould me into life itself overwhelmed with purpose,
the essence of a higher being
The lack of true self! The poem is about a person who lived life filled with emptiness who never really got to live to their true purpose because they were too busy living for people.
Brittany Ann Jan 29
I am the one who is

always waiting.

Always anticipating

for what is to come

or what may come.

Waiting to become

better,

bigger,

than who I feel that I am.

Stronger than what

I think that I am.


Never fully comfortable with,

never really secure in,

what is present in

the moment.

I wait with

this expectation that

there must always be more

than what there really is.

That I must be more

than what I am.


There sets a purpose,

an endeavor,

before me.

And then, once more,

there's another again.

I anticipate for each and every

opportunity and probability,

then I wait- once more-

for what's to follow.

It's the story of a life

that has an inevitable ending

but with no one

foreseen wrapped up conclusion.


And maybe,

I could see this as just

my adaptability and ability

for such impeccable growth.

Yet, while I wait,

here plays out

each sequence of my world

that races right on past me

before I can even savor

the pure fulfillment,

the true wholeness,

of just one single moment.

And how that precise moment,

in a single instant,

can be gone.
Kyle Sep 2020
Life is not always rosy;
You have to walk on a flowery path,
Full of yellow carnations and black roses;
To see the beauty of dandelions and daisies.
Katelyn Jun 2020
A soulmate
described as another person
whom is your other half
but what if
the true soulmate
is the other half of oneself
that makes you whole again
Do we ever find the other half of US that makes us whole again? Will I ever feel whole within myself.
Carlo C Gomez Jun 2020
Whether they go gently

or expedite with force

the rhythms of the night

are there to ravish us

in the miserable nature

of indomitable, incessant need

to gratify a neglected

consciousness

fraught with dancing endorphins

that linger about

love's sea

as a salient reciprocal
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