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Ally Van Amstel Jul 2018
Your eyes
are time capsules in my mind.
The memory of you there,
fingers lingering through my hair.
Begging me
to lock my lips with yours.
I posed from a distance,
sipping on my infidelity.
How it made its way
lasciviously
across your body
so meticulously,
intentionally
imploring you to want me.
You asked,
but I didn't know what to say
so I just kissed you.
I still see you sometimes
in the peripherals of my mind,
though the contours of your face
are beginning to blur as they do
with any beautiful stranger.
I can't tell whether the image of us
is a painting or a picture:
something I've carefully constructed
or a moment merely manifested.
But I do know
that it was the blue in your eyes
and the white in my lie
that had me stay til dawn.
Pyrrha Jul 2018
They didn't write about this in the fairytales of my childhood
They never told me love could fade away
That it is hard to find, but easy to lose

They never gave me forewarning that my heart could be broken by my prince
Or that I could be the breaker of his
Who knew we were given such power, such responsibility?

They never told me there were other princesses roaming in his mind
They never told me of other princes who could catch my eye
Who knew of such dishonesty, such infidelity?

Who knew love was something so fragile?
As if it were porcelain it slips through your fingers so fast
To be shattered like the illusion of the fairytale love story in your mind
When you see the truth a ******* leaves behind
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
It happened in a hurry
At a joyous wedding party.
I didn’t know who he was
Just that he was hearty
And tall and very hot.
I was jealous of her
And the hot man she’d got.

The bride was not a friend,
But the friend of a friend.
I was the plus one that day
And I thought that was the end.
I’d watch the ceremony and
I’d go and smile and mingle.
It always makes me antsy
To do weddings when I’m single.

But, I sit and chat and smile
Wish them both the very best.
I do this quietly and quickly
Not being close like the rest.
So, when I went to the restroom
And the groom grabbed me
And laid a deep long kiss
I returned the favor gladly.

I usually don’t ***** with married
But this was a great big surprise
To get kissed by a tall hunk
With hot burning lust in his eyes.
I have no idea what was up
With the bride's new Mister
But I can testify for absolute sure
He was one hella righteous kisser!
Sara Kellie Jun 2018
I spoke to my partner babe
at our place and everything's well.
I sure feel a lot of love babe.

I met with my friend babe
at the bar and everything's good.
I've sure got a lot of love babe.

I saw my partner and friend babe
in the street and everything's clear.
They've sure got a lot of love babe.

Spoke with my sister babe
at her home and everything's
much clearer now.
I sure hear a lot of lies babe.

Talked to my brother babe
at his flat and everything's
oh so ******' clear.
I sure hear a lot of ******' lies babe.

Listened to my demons babe
in my head and everything's clear.
I sure feel a lot of hate babe.

Met with my solicitor babe
in my prison cell and
everything's gone.
I sure feel ****** babe.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Revenge tends to come back around babe.
Some call it karma babe.
Libeth May 2018
Sitting in the living room while you’re on the computer
What are you looking at?
Leaning closer and you turn off the monitor
Are you hiding something?
What could it be?

Knocking on the door everyday
Oh no, who’s that other woman?
That’s not mother.
Mother doesn’t look like that.
That’s not mother’s voice.

Why is she in our house?
Why are you taking her to your bedroom?
Don’t understand.

Too young to understand
Got older
Realized what he had done

Filled with hatred because of you
You’ll never be forgiven
Not from me, not from mother
Disappear from my life.
Emma Hill May 2018
Her bookshelf to the brim and bursting
With pages worn, and well
Remembered for the virtues
Lost
And husbands in the war

Fallen woman--fall, and women
Harvests sown and reaped
Moon of full, of wax, of
Wane
Her heart of Shadow's seed

Hand of diamond and of band
Ashes, ashes, dust
A love once lived and now, one
Lost
The pages' faces face us
And sages burn, away
First in awhile. Hello again
Her death was like quicksand
I tried to escape the grief
I tried to run, swim, crawl
but, like spectral arms,
I was dragged back beyond the precipice
down into the gravely depths
down to my despair.

I sought after her and found crumbs
but the trail of bread yielded only hunger,
hunger for perhaps her scent
perhaps echoes of her voice as she fades
into the distance
perhaps her reflection trapped in a mirror
any sign that she were still living
but the world had closed her chapter
and my hunger became a fasting...
I once hoped for love everlasting,
but my truth will never be love ever-after.

Just when I thought hope was forgotten,
I found an envelope with her name scrawled upon it.
Her crest engraved the wax of the seal.
The torment of her abandonment sunk into me once more,
and the quicksand trickled all around.
How dare I imagine her again?
How dare I open this audacious package.
Indeed,
I pry open the letter with haste,
mouth dry, tongue limp like dry wood,
eyes bulging,
my nourishment is within this envelope, of course!

Indeed,
within it, I find cobwebs and shame.
A picture of her I had never seen.
Her arm wrapped around the trusted embrace of a suitor
and I cannot penetrate this world she has found,
I do not belong.

I burn the picture...
With each spark of the fading image,
somehow I am freed
and the chains she bound to my soul are now vines
I reside in a fortress, barren, but safe.
Unassailable.
Cold.
"Darling?" I hear.
My wife peeks down from the stairs,
"Supper is ready..."
Of course.
Of course a mistress can never be real.
She will ever be a phantom.
And phantoms can never say farewell.
They were never there.
I'm thinking about this feeling of never being satisfied:
of having what one desires only to realize,
our desires are just dreams...
and dreams, when fulfilled, are not guaranteed to be truths.

Moreover, the feeling of having far too much,
more than we can consume,
more than we know what to do with, but we continue eating,
and realize a man can be bottomless,
despite always being filled.

Anyway, just musing.

Enjoy!

DEW
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