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Jay M Jun 2019
This is the poem
For the heartsick
For the bleeding
The young
The innocent
The broken
It's a hard road
And there are days,
Oh years,
But even so
You have to be stronger than fear

Get back up again
Never let them
Know they got you
Or all will truly be lost

Believe you are strong
And you will be strong
A one person army
One voice
Lifting hundreds
So what are you waiting for?
Approval?
Speak your mind
Seize the time
Write the rhyme
Because it's your life
This
Is
Your
Story

- Jay M
June 4th, 2019
Apathy Mar 2019
A passing thought of your soft grin
Tugs my heart strings taut and humming
They play sweet songs like violins
Adrift in clouds of silk and honey

A sun burns bright within my heart
It shines for you a world apart
I feel you there reaching for me
And in your arms I long to be

I feel you here within my heart
A world away, but not apart
In dreams I play our first embrace
picturing your smiling face



the quiet warmth of knowing
you exist with me tonight
soothes me into peaceful sleep
as I bathe in morning light

I watch the window to your world
Dreaming of reaching through that glass
I'd crawl into your sleeping arms
And leave behind the past

Catching a glimpse of your soft smile
I feel my own heart beating
but opened eyes tear you away
for dreams, the fickle things, are fleeting



Embers smolder deep within
Spreading, rising to my throat
A gasp of air, I catch my breath
As flames of desire ignite

But desolate winds gather in my chest
As the fires fight to stay alight
I hold myself, a hollow shield
This empty space inside grips tight
a few small poems written for you, some new some old
Melody Mar 2019
Distance,
A wonderful craftsman indeed
Upon fate’s request,
Dutiful as always.

Articulates time,
By seconds he fixes hours,
By hours he polishes days,
By days he rewrites years.

For it’s own amusement?
Perhaps, fascinated of
Time’s spontaneous remedies
For the heartsick.
Thank you.
Bartholomew Dec 2018
Since you’re gone I’ve been dealing with the hurting
Happiness in my life, felt like I deserved it
Me and you was an item, I guess it wasn’t working
Drinking all these bottles, tryna bottle my emotions....
and I’m smoking

To calm down my nerves
Numb down the hurt
And I can’t find the words
To express
So I can write it in a verse
but just the thought of you makes the feeling feel worse

From trials and tribulations
Smiles are fabricated
Out of desperation
Im asking how can I make it?

Without you...

Cuz I’m so lost and gone
Tryna find another love but my heart is torn

So I grab a bottle and light up another spliff
Thinking suicidal, how can I live like this
Thinking bout your touch; how soft and warm
Then I think about your smile ******* it’s gone
Pigeon Dec 2018
I always said the world was too small. Grain of sand on an infinite beach type ****. So small that you could get a reasonable understanding of its history and diversity in just one human lifetime. It’s limiting, right? Like ****. We’re just one planet in a constantly expanding universe that’s full of planets.

It feels big now, thanks to you.

Too big. I’m overwhelmed by the distance between you and I, I think about it and I get woozy, nauseous. Two little fish on opposite sides of a big pond. The biggest pond. The ocean. I wish I could shrink it down and make it small enough that you and I were next door neighbors or one town over or **** it lll settle with driving distance. But this? It’s too ******* much. You’re a world apart, so far that your sun rises and sets on a different schedule.

I worry if I see you again it won’t be enough. The distance have driven me mad, I’d long to be closer even when our skin was stuck together. I fantasize about curling up inside the confines of your ribcage and resting my head on your still beating heart. It’s not enough to be close to you, ****, I want to be part of you.

The way you’re a part of me.

I never liked blue eyes until yours, you know. How odd that they’re the same color as the thing that separates us.
Thank you for being love when my soul craved it most.
Thank you for being refuge when I needed peace.
roxanne Jun 2018
Underneath my skin, in a corridor of void occupation
I am blindfolded, threaded along the tracks of my mind for yet another time.
Blisslessly awake, and I wanted to disclose to you;

   It's felt like days since I knew you.

Never took you in to be a collection of pages, raveled with things gone unspoken.
I was always so curious of you and the letterings scripted across you
and I'm sorry that at the time, my eyes were so weary
lacking a voice of clarity, to speak to you with the words that you've so deserved.

the pictures in your eyes were something that always sent me to another place entirely,
sailing alongside you, a snowglobe that had passed through to the summers.
You, just as those golden linings in the clouds saw it fit to decorate my memories, your reveries
always evoking me towards a warmth that I held so dearly.

I never noticed that you were thorned, just as I.
And so things went amiss quite fast, just as they came
Hesitating too much to let myself fall forwards, together with you,
sense veiled with all the things that were tethered to my spirit.
Living in between the sobriety of this circumstance and the fingerprints that were left behind.
within the tides

   it had felt like I'd known you.

Swimming, while we dreamt of flying together. To the moon and back.
Later do I remember the horizon, the water below me gleaming, beaming down to the things I thought I'd known.
but by then, all that I had besides me were those obscured stars
and I realised that the sky wasn't all that bright without you,

   and it had been forever since I knew you.

The elapse of time, evading these clocks of mine.
Little porclain angels whispering to me from afar,
without a trace of my voice remaining.
As those pages of yours go on without me,
As the blossums continue to fall for you,
in the distance


And I didn't know,
how someone like me
could ever know
someone like you.
(what I wish I could've)
I no longer long for home
For I have come
To the bitter realisation
that you make our house-

a home.

Home is feeling.

I can only feel homesick,
Run my fingers through -
The walls you painted,
Walk through -
The garden you planted,
And find the last pieces of you-
From the scent of your unwashed shirts.

I feel homesick-
                         For you.

For you are where my heart is.
For my father, who passed 50 days ago. I love you.
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