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girlinflames Sep 7
When I read
poems from the past,
I barely understand them.

I try, yes—
but they are minds
from another time.

It takes time
to connect with them.

Then I imagine myself:
will they, in the future,
read the poems I write to you
and understand
anything at all?
Dear me,


Wow, you're so young,
But our faces look so close;
Both our jaws bend the same,
But your's is a little softer;
Brown's the colour of our eyes,
But never have yours been tired.

But when did all that change?
You're right, you should never know,
Your future, fate and what's to come,
But I think I'll let you know anyways.

You'll still write, but not stories
And you'll rarely dream,
But it's alright, you will find,
That it's all so much better.

No you won't ever learn guitar,
Play it right or write a song,
But you'll make music,
In so many other ways.

And I am so sorry little one,
But you will live without joy for so long,
And you'll make a million rules,
About your body and your blood
And you will break,
Every single one.

But I promise you, despite everything,
You are loved. You are loved.

And no the movies lied,
It won't feel like magic,
It'll feel like home,
Comfort, warmth and safety,
And you'll like it so much better that way.

Yes you'll still stand tall and proud,
But you will always apologize,
For every single tear that falls,
And even when you laugh too loud.
It's something we will work through,
Together, as we grow.

And little one, your smiled changed,
Because you survived the hurt and pain
You smile brighter.
- C.c
Dear me,


Wow, you're so grown up,
But our faces look so close;
Both our jaws bend the same,
But your's is a little sharper;
Brown's the colour of our eyes,
But under yours are tired lines.

When does all that happen?
I was told no one should ever know,
Their future, fate and what's to come,
But my mind holds so many questions.

Do I still write?
Do I still dream?
Will fantasy still keep me sane?
And do I ever learn guitar?
Make music and write a song?

Please, tell me now, I need to know.

Am I happy?
Am I loved?
Do I ever find the one
And is it like magic,
Like all the books and movies said?
Do I still stand proud and tall?

Do I laugh and cry,
And live with no apologies...
Please say,
I don't apologize for feeling.

And despite all the ways that I will grow,
Will my smile stay the same?
Oh, I love it so,
I hope it never changes.
- C.c
Hey girlfriend,
I may not say it often...

when all seem wicked
and when my weekend
was more of a weak end

Girlfriend,
Your words toughen....

my focus & dexterity
Getting the sincerity
my ex won't share with clarity.

Girlfriend,
Your voice softens...

The fear of if it's a dead end?
If this is for my girly girlfriend.
Or my future girlfriend?
Dear Female friend,
OR,
Dear Future girlfriend,
Odalys Aug 1
When love returns to knock my door,
May it be truer than before.
God-sent, secure, a steady flame,
With gentle touch and no cruel game.

A love that’s safe, yet wild and pure,
Genuine, lasting, strong, and sure.
Reassuring in both word and deed—
The kind of love my soul will need.
Dreams
The worst part...
Waking up to achieve it.

The best part
Waking up to achieve it.

If the hardest part is waking up?
I'd sacrifice my sleep.

To be with you forever
Or to achieve you.
If my dreams are valid, having you is...
Carlo C Gomez Jul 26
the new dark age
heart goes out
world goes up
all due to a love of concrete
and iron indignities

buildings grown in the heartland
steel your future
wrap your face in a foreign flag
make it medieval
so fear and superstition
can live on each floor

from above the cityscape
blueprints of a pinball machine
a train to nowhere
like candles on a cake
that will burn someday
when least expected

ladies against the glass
of morning commutes
show too much cleavage
to people on Sunday
gentlemen with their death sticks
conjure the factory smoke
poisoning a life of leisure
these infinite vistas
continue to rise
elevation well in hand
stitched together
but growing apart

the biomechanical soul
a species out of control
mother solitude and her
modern failures
take the stairs to the roof of her mouth
progress leaves an echo
her final words are
empty, foreboding
and full of lead
Kyle Jul 25
Groundlessness is not to be tamed.
Certainty is not an achievement.
A tension deeply ill-famed.
Its presence a call for bereavement.

pondering my future is bootless.
No more thought shall spring actions.
Ten thousand words are fruitless.
The mind fragmented into factions.

The milk of uncertainty is thought.
Only stillness discloses the true.
Creativity cannot be taught.
From chaos it shall brew.

Groundlessness cannot be tamed.
Nor shalI I try to resist.
Let this tension be named.
And on my life shall persist.
Do not let groundlessness be an obstacle, nor let indecision be a reason to become firm. Firmness is not a virtue - the flexible stick survives the heaviness of the snow. Uneasiness about the future, relationships, commitments, is a consequence of being human - do not ignore it, do not try to think your way to certainty; experiment, create, and observe it all. No human has thought her way to certainty; "2 + 2 = 4" - yes, but the more I think about what it "means", the less certain I am. Vagueness and certainty hold hands, and this is the way it must be - let vagueness be the mist that allows us rodents to avoid the predating owl of thought, lust for certainty, and obsession with deliberation.
Lance Remir Jul 24
It was supposed to be us
Our dreams, our goals, our lives
Our hopes, our future, our work
The family we were supposed to have
The fears we were supposed to overcome
The trials we were supposed to endure
The love we were supposed to save
It was supposed to be us
But now?
It's just me
Gabriel Jul 24
I prayed to get over it.
But another version of you keeps arriving—
each one softer,
each one saying things you never said
but I always wished you would.

That version sends visions.
Of one more dream
I can’t quite hold onto—
it dissolves the second I wake,
like breath on glass.

To dream versions of you
is to love you whole
in a world that lets me,
just for a moment.

And when those visions fade—
when the countless lives I live with you
go blur,
go quiet,
go still—

maybe that’s when it’s time
to stop chasing sleep.
Maybe it’s time
to make a life
where you and I
can finally
be one.
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