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Him Jan 2021
I am thinking of all the words that I never got to say; all of the letters and apologies, only published within my brain.
Max Neumann Jan 2021
in the middle of nirvana, ashima wakes up
she doesn't know how she reached this sphere
full of silver lights and black silhouettes
everyone she knows seems to be present

greyly shimmering leaflets are floating
through the air, gently, like mist
and red fireflies are clapping their wings
the crowd of shadows is starting to sing:

"ashima, you have come a long way to us
we are the voices of nirvana, listen
nirvana is the deep core of your soul
the land of your most secret wishes

sometimes, in your dreams, you reach out
when you are waiting for a train and the
rays of the sun are reflecting your thoughts
you never find us but we know where you are

you may call us your wishes, we belong to you
as ****, as branko and your mom do
are you the imitation of your dreams, ashima?
or do your dreams imitate you, our girl?

certainly, you will become the thing you dread
we know that you took revenge recently
when you were slashing the *******'s throat
as his blood was slowly flowing into the sheets"

in the middle of her apartment, ashima wakes up
she becomes aware of a crinkled and dark leaflet
it is more than twenty years old, informing about
something that ashima can not read anymore

the letters on the leaflet have become dust
ashima is taking a deep breath and sighs
her pitbull branko is strolling towards her
his wet tongue, ashima thinks, feels cute
Kate Livesay Jan 2021
I’ve saved our letters,
They’re in a box in my closet.

Nothing screams pain more than old words.
Words that meant the world in that moment,
But over time,
Entered into a downward spiral.

I loved how you curled your Y’s,
And oh-so confidently striked through your A’s.
That .38 pen fit you too well.

The floral stamps reminded me of a crowded garden,
One filled with bees, butterflies, and even grasshoppers.
You got those at the Art Museum, I just know it.

An asymmetrical heart sealed the letter,
Instantly ripped in half by my eagerness to read your words.
Did you kiss the heart where the envelope seals, just like I do?

Before flooding myself with your paragraphs,
I delicately brought the parchment to my nose.
Ambrosial, particles of your aroma trapped into the air of the envelope, spread on the parchment.

I am grateful for our endearments that are captured on paper.
No time for reliving, only reminicinsing.

Thank you. So so much.
You will never know how important it was to me.
snail mail is my favorite
Allyssa Black Jan 2021
The white garden of black flowers
A storehouse of letters

It was the quietest party
It was the constant friend
The portable magic
Which can be tragic
The flying vowels

A white garden of black flowers
Gazing at creatures
Which are teachers
The delicate pages
And colorful covers
The falling words

The suspense of a mystery
The tense thriller
The love in a romance
The fun in a fantasy

The white garden of black flowers
A storehouse of letters
zee Oct 2020
please send all the love letters that i've made for i have poured my heart and soul upon writing it

try not mourn for me and be happy for i am finally free from all the things the tormented me—

trading your soul just to revive this decaying body;
the deafening silence;
unwanted thoughts and endless tears
Savio Fonseca Dec 2020
Each Time I think of U,
I pen My Thoughts.
Rhyme them in Verses,
that end up with Dots.
Our Love Story that began,
in the month of November.
Is no more a Story,
I would want to Remember.
U filled My Heart,
with Sorrow and Pain.
All My Hard work,
went down in Vain.
The Love Letters U wrote,
I've torn them to Pieces.
I'm now a Man in Pain,
a Pain that never Ceases.
Brianna Duffin Dec 2020
I was bleeding out, a crimson stain on a cream carpet
With a hand under my sweater you kissed it better
And still, you looked at me like I was precious.
At that moment, all I could think was, "I'm done for."
Because to love someone is never a safe endeavor
And I don't do well with those risks that take all of me.
I thought I knew you well enough, I guess you never know,
I guess when you open your soul like a canvas waiting
For another person to paint in new colors- it shows.
If I believed in wishes coming true, I'd want one thing-
To stand hand in hand with you and stare at the stars.
Point out Mars and Venus to me, and show me again-
Remind me there can be more to this life than fighting
And don't forget sometimes you'll have to fight for me.
This is a sample of a poem I wrote recently. You can find the full version exclusively on Medium, here: https://medium.com/@briannarduffin/mars-and-venus-e295f1ceb017
Maria Etre Dec 2020
D&G
For us,  
we get the hand* of it
&
we get the hang* of others
Charlotte Ahern Nov 2020
In the art of eye contact,
I wrote you letters
filled with all the words
I wish I’d said
sometimes it's too hard to say it with your tongue
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