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fray narte Nov 11
his lips would remind you of cold tuesday afternoons made for coffee and falling apart. he never really kissed with so much intimacy but he kissed me nonetheless, and maybe those were enough — those steady, demanding kisses, until all i'm left with are sighs and shoulders carved with his name. my fingers, lost in his hair, like withered roses catching fire. my lips, swollen and red, like sunsets begging for the night to come home. my heartbeats, carelessly, hastily stitched inside the hem of his sleeves.

but i stayed in his apartment, slept in his bed, and wore his clothes; like an incoherent word misplaced in a haystack, like a poem, half-naked on the kitchen sink, unraveled by the faintest brushes of skin. slow and claiming. fast and rough. he never really held me close enough, tight enough, but he held me nonetheless, and for a while — just for a while, i could pretend that he wasn't the embodiment of all the things i got to hold but could never get to keep.


he never really looked at me with love or with an intensity that burns, but he gazed nonetheless — almost lost and lust-hazed; calculating and restrained, like i was every poetry he wasn't supposed to write but had written anyway. and i gazed back, at my hands resting against steady movement of his chest, at his dim-morning eyes, at the slight part of his lips.

and his lips — i know they would remind you of cold tuesday afternoons, made for coffee and falling apart. and i know that it wasn't love.

it wasn't love,
but it's pretty close.
fray narte Jun 22
i’ll waste all my chances at heaven darling — i’ll waste all my chances for the midnights we spent dreaming, stranded inside an old lighthouse as the waves crashed on the shore. i’ll waste my chances for a mouthful kisses, dissolving the gaps between the stars. i’ll waste my chances for a sliver of early morning poems, for sunsets dripping on our skin, for seconds where i can hold your hand — free and unafraid, for minutes where i can be a sinner and you, my capital sin. for hours where i can melt all the world and its hurtful words inside your arms.

darling, i’ll waste all my chances at heaven if i can’t love you way past its walls.

i’ll waste all my chances at heaven — and i’ll waste them all on you.
ALEX DRAKE May 15
I’m going to try this one last time
I don't really know how to say this or where to begin but let me start off by saying that I know nothing could ever blossom between us, I MEAN I HOPE IT DID. We have not known each other for a long time, about a year and a half at most. But I do know this; I have feelings for you. Whether they be of infatuation or of actual love, I know not. What I do know for certain is that you are kind, beautiful and one of the most fantastic people I have ever known. You are precious to me and I couldn't bear to see you hurt. I'd just about lose my mind.
Maybe after college, we'll drift apart, talk less, and maybe never see each other again. But I need to get this off my chest. You are so surreal that every moment I spend with you makes me wonder if I'm dreaming. Maybe I'm in some fantasy land living out my wildest dreams. Maybe I'm daydreaming of things I long for, but that could never be. Maybe, just maybe, I'm not dreaming at all and this is all real. I don't know what is what anymore when I'm around you I just lose my train of thought.
Now, I know that you do not feel the same. I mean how could someone like you fall for someone like me. And I know you say you feel like a villain in this story... but to me, you’re just an amazing person that I have feelings for. Maybe I'll find someone else to pine over and love, and maybe this is all just in my head. I've never been in a relationship and I wouldn't know the first thing about being with a guy. So perhaps this is just my heart testing my abilities, seeing how I could perform when I'm head over heels for someone. If that's the case, then I'm glad it was you who first made me feel this way. I made me so happy when you would ask for my jacket… and when you would get close to me and put your head on my shoulder… oh and when you let me hold your finger for that mere 10.5 seconds all I felt was bliss.
I know you and I haven't had much time to really connect and get to know each other, and I know that if we got together it wouldn't be for long. I accept that even embrace it. Hell, just spending time with you is something I look forward to. That’s why I would lend you my jacket… so I had an excuse to see you in the morning ... so you would be the first person I talk to but I don’t want an excuse to see you I want a reason to see you. Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure. You are wonderful, and talented and kind. And when you gave me that hug in the bio room (even though we smelled of dead shark) it made me so sad… cause that’s all I ever wanted from you… I just want a second of direct physical contact with you and you managed to give that to me… but then I realized that I wanted to hug you a little longer… but I’m not able to do that out of free will. I wish I could see you smile more often, cause you have a really nice smile.  If someone were to ask me why I like you I would say I don’t know why I like you I just do. I don’t know if it’s cause you’re not fake. I don’t know if it’s the way your eyebrows arch up when you talk. But I do know one thing for sure I like you very much.  I know you're going to make a guy happy one day. I just wish that guy would be me. So, here's to you, my dear.
A love letter i wrote for my crush
ALEX DRAKE Mar 18
Tonight before going to sleep I will
wish to dream of you.

And when I wake up I will cry  either cause I dreamt of you, i didn't or because you're with him and not me.

~ I think i love you Isacc
Ash Calli Mar 13
I glance at you to see if you glance back
I can’t explain it

I caught you looking what a treat
But I peeked back to this sheet

Maybe you’re looking because I am
Am I just being absurd?

Your face is magnetic
A prism of bismuth or iron

But I barely know you
Barely an acquaintance

But I would like to get to know you better
If you can stand me
Umm... girls are pretty
Ash Calli Mar 13
Oh how I melt and stutter
Oh how I sputter and gush
Over girls
I just love them so, so much
Hair and faces
Ripe for pets and kisses
And loving caresses
Necks and chests
Oh how loving them is the best
******* and stomachs
Warm and soft
Beautiful and sweet
I love girls from their heads to their feet
Dark or light I don’t care
This heart of mine loves them beyond all compare
girls are awesome
it's been a day
since we last let our love seep through,
since you held me close
in that moment, now long gone.

then you shoved me away
once you'd had enough
of my then-green heart;
it's been a day.

your punches and kicks
have turned my heart black;
i will no longer feel.
i won't let myself.

"that didn't count,"
your worried soul insisted
never venturing beyond
your delicate bubble.

go after her then.
Leave me here,
a sinful
nothing.

go after her then.
go be
your father's
son.

love
is simply too elusive.
so you may as well
get comfortable.
your eyes are
more potent
than any pill
i could swallow.

not of this earth
extraterrestrial
the nearest i can reach
to the image of god:
a deep muddy earth
familiar
uncontrolled
i think they're sweet
like chocolate

but they punish me
without thought,
peeling off
each layer of
my endurance until
there won't be
anyone left:
nothing left of
who i was

so here we are

i remain latched
to the thought of you.

and you
you're as blind as ever.
boys am i right? especially boys who don't know who they are.
blaise Nov 2018
my boy with fig leaves and lightning bugs
******* in his hair, he kneels with
crimson palms pressed to the unquiet dirt
and hums an abandoned melody.

my boy with sunbeams shining through his skin on the riverbank,
neatly coating the grass in thin white trails, woven into footprints like cotton twine, snaking their way across brown earth,
ankles slick with mud and the dead things that lay just underneath.

my boy with rosewater and stained glass ashes
feels me bless him with blackberries and the softest crush of words,
ice cubed, beneath my lips,
as he wipes the ichor from my chest with callouses
worn down gentle.

the light echoes from his skin
there are no symphonies nor sacraments,
only cicadas singing warmth to shivering willows.
2019 scholastic writing awards gold key winner
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