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fray narte Jun 2019
cigarettes still taste a little like our last kiss — like it's 5 am again and we were stuck in rusty rooftops, waiting for the break of dawn, or for the other to initiate the kiss. that being said, i always wished that 5 am's lasted longer, and that cigarettes burned longer, and that we kissed longer. but before we knew it, the sun had risen and there we were, ashing our cigarettes on the floor, kissing our last kiss. but here i am, darling — yours for the breaking; my cigarettes, yours for the taking — so kiss me again. break me again. leave me again.

say goodbye to me, darling. say goodbye, just once again.
Nick Huber May 2019
You have to give yourself permission.
You said that once, I remember it clearly.
I remember you saying that. Right in the middle of one of those many episodes I had.
You know,
One of those episodes where I sat at the table.
Shaking my leg,
Hunched over my journal.
You remember the one:
It's that journal I have that looks like an old Islamic prayer book.
Complete with geometric patterns embossed on the front, machine painted, with a lock on its side.
That lock, that doesn't really lock.
It keeps itself shut through intimidation.

You and the book have so much in common: maybe it's your sister.
Or something like your sister. Of the same blood, of the same mother, but maybe of different fathers.
That's not the point though. It doesn't really matter.
But I remember it well.
Even though it never actually happened.

Really, it was just part of a dream. Whether it was a dream I had during the day, or one at night like everyone else has at some point in their lives.
It  
Doesn't  
Matter.

It's just, I remember it well.
Like it actually happened.

Maybe by thinking about it this way...
It did.
Like telepathic communication, or reading my "energies", or something else that can't be proven beyond a feeling.
Maybe in this dream... You were there.
Not as an extension of my subconscious desire,
but like you were physically there.
My brain interpreting the electrical signals of you being right in front of me.
Kind of like your picture that shows up on my phone when you call.
Existing, but encased in memory, not reaching out.

But really, you couldn't have been there.
You were only present in these dreams.
Comforting me there, taking my hands, speaking softly into my ears.
In real life, I knew that was impossible.
You could see nothing, through my eyes.
You could never be that close for long.
I guess it hurt you in a way, I couldn't see. But,
I wanted you there.

But lets go back. Let's not get discouraged. Let me remember what you said in that dream, where one detail is always left out.
What was it you were saying? It seemed very important.
And I can't help but feel the memory I have, is counterfeit.
Because I'm a man, who questions my motives.
And you being there, seems so clear. Like it had to have happened.

So let's recap: there we were, in the car, staring at the city lights. Scriabin's Piano Sonata 6, blaring through the stereo. This scene always seems to cut out, right at this point. Your hand was gripping my own. Your fingers, lightly caressing my skin. My heart was racing, I looked at your eyes and said: "What's next?"
Your hand reached up, brushed my cheek. Our embrace moving closer and closer. Your hair, resting softly with my fingers moving through.

                                                                             (End Scene)
What am I giving myself permission for?
                                                                             (Silence)
ALEX DRAKE Dec 2018
For he seemed to make a wish of wanting for his current relationship to take his last kiss, and he got what he wanted.

                                            By dying a bit young tho.
Bridget Crooks Feb 2018
I didn’t expect our last kiss
To be quite like this,
The taste of tears and pleading,
The pain and hearts bleeding.
I thought we would be ninety-one
With all completed and done,
Surrounded by a whole handmade life,
You, my husband and I, your wife.
Hanef Alinor Oct 2017
The last moments of us kissing
It tasted like my first time smoking
The feelings were sad and bitter
The tastes that I refuse to remember
Let's pray for the world. It feels like killing is such an easy thing nowadays.
caramelancholy May 2017
"I Love You"s melted

Under my tongue 'til you were

Yet bitter nostalgia,

Yet the feeling of emptiness

Yet the absence of memories

Yet the memories of absence.


Let the shadow of those two petals rest

And rim a mirage over my lips.

Let that serve as a reminder of the venom behind every kiss.

Let me accept the reality that you mean me no good.

That I should’ve stopped when I still could.


Take heed that I want more.

Take to heart I’m too vulnerable to make these kinds of decisions.

Take pity that I’m too submissive to threaten your position.

Take this kiss as a final blow.

As a signature of defeat.

This coup d’etat

The last draw in heat.
In a piece of paper, my hopes and wishes are written,
Every pain and love, everything I keep hidden.
Placed in a bottle of wine
Together with all the pieces of my shattered heart
I seal this bottle with my soul.
A kiss will guide it to its goal.
In the ocean, my message in the bottle goes,
Hopefully, one day, it will reach you
Maybe my essence will be able to warm your ice cold body.
May you have happiness and peace,
Then I'll be at ease.

Once again, I say my sincere apology
In a parchment, I say it all,
In your hands it may fall.
This message in the bottle that travels the ocean.
Time doesn't change how I feel, distractions didn't work. For now, I'll sing songs for you. I vow my fealty and love, now I am forever condemned.
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