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Leeann Rose Jan 2021
I pretend I don’t see of what is undesirable
It doesn’t move my soul ..
It’s always something , it’s such an unpleasant feeling..

You’re hurting me, with the blame game..
Say that you love me, but how could you feel the same?

Abuse comes in all forms. Verbally you’re killing me, with words that cut deep..
I keep patching myself up.. you keep ripping the bandages off.
It’s amusing to you.
You shatter my heart on a daily ..

Some days are good and some are bad.
Some are wet and rainy and some are dry
Some are stormy, and some are just cold.. like your heart.

I turn a blind eye to a love that will never be told because it’s so hard.. Its so embarrassing how much I love you ... they would say how could you love someone like that!?

And yet , I still do.
A blind eye to being a fool.
Mothsome Jun 2019
I always want you to stay by my side,
If that means I miss you when you are not around,
Then I miss you.

I always want you to be happy and smiling,
If that means I like you,
Then I like you.

I always want you to become my life,
If that means I love you,
Then I am in love with you.
Miss you
Like you
Love you
The clothes that you wear
The colour of your eyes
The music that you share
I guess that I like you

And the way you look in my eye
like the feeling I have when I'm next to you
Beautiful...

You are beautiful
You are the apple to my pie
And I hope you understand what I'm trying to say
I guess that I like you

I'm afraid to tell you all these things
But I'd fly across the world
Just to come home
Home to you...

Let's write a song together
about this life that you speak of
'cause I'd love to spend it with you
I'd like to spend the day with you
we'd write about the stars
the stars I see when I'm next to you
Beautiful...

You are beautiful
You're the straw to my berry
And I hope you understand what I'm trying to say
I guess that I like you

I am telling you these things
'cause your eyes shine
when I look into them
but they can never shine like mine...

Of all of the places in all of the spaces
That I've ever seen or I've ever been
Nothing can compare to you
Beautiful...

You are beautiful
You're the apple to my pie
And I hope that you understand what I've told you
I 'm sure that I like you
Cause I'm running after you
And I'll do what I can do
I'll do it all for you...
Micah G Nov 2018
Why I write haiku
Because it is a puzzle
And I forget you

Why I write haiku
Because it is a puzzle
And I forget you
You are like the winter snow
And this is a summer rain
A (very) short Renga-style haiku Inspired by Haydi’s “like you”
Em Jan 2017
I could say that I like art
But what I'd mean to say is
I like how it makes me feel
I like when it appeals to my own aesthetic
Or makes me see through someone else's eyes
I like that I don’t have to necessarily understand a piece to enjoy it
I like how looking at a photograph can take you back to a memory
Or how a film can make you feel empathy for someone you’ve never even met.

It's simple to say that I like music
But what I’d mean by that is
I like how it makes me feel
I like that a good beat can leave my feet uncontrollably
Tap, tap, tapping
And a soulful lyric can leave my heart dizzy for days
or how a good, solid forte piano can bring me to the edge of my seat
I like that an arrangement of notes can make me long for a place I’ve never been
or that feeling I get when I hear my favorite song come on at the store

It'd be safe to assume that I can say I like dance
But what I actually mean is that
I like how it makes me feel
How the delicate motion of someone else’s body set to music can move me to tears  
and when the beat of the music travels through my own limbs like an electric current
when it leaves me out of breath
or how positively free I feel when I'm dancing alone to Beyoncé in my underwear

It wouldn’t be too far of a stretch for someone to maybe possibly say that there's an itty bitty sliver of a chance that
I like you
I mean
I like how you make me feel
Like my whole body is on fire and I’m caught in a rainstorm
like my stomach is full of ants but it’s okay because I’m an anteater
Like a little kid who lost his mom at the store but somehow found the candy isle
Like I’d spend a whole day just trying to make you laugh

I like that art, music, and dance make me think of you
and that that’s all I’m left to think about
art, music, dance
and you
Amour de Monet May 2014
Did I tell you?

I’m kind of quiet… no, really, I am. You should see me around people I don’t know…. Ha, yes, I know you don’t believe me… I talk my socks off around you. But, you’re different. You already know the contents of me… I mean, you may not have read every page in detail, but you get the rough draft. Not many people get that. Man, what a stuck up ***** they say… Miss goody two shoes is too good for us… Not all of us are rich like you they say. Oh, how I wish I was any of those things…it wouldn’t sting when they mistook me for anything but the plains, but instead they see skylines and frosted mountains. I am not as complex, I am not as breathtaking, I am not such a climb. It’s funny. i have it together - it appears from the outside looking in. On the inside, I’m so tired. I know you know this - but they don’t. They don’t see 14 hour days, 98 hour weeks, 5,784 hour years… of on the go, here you can have my time, my peace, my arms, my legs, my soul. They don’t see that. They don’t see me helping the family when they need food that week..and me not eating. They don’t see my sore back, my restless nights, or the loneliness that follows endless hours. I’m the one missing out… and they think I am better than them. If they only knew how much I wished I could be more like them and less like me…. how they are the morning skies… and I am merely a spectacle to their bold colors. They’re outspoken, care free, sociable, …extroverted. I wouldn’t dare say a word. I know even then they wouldn’t get me… not like you do. I just sit back - quietly, watching, listening, absorbing…an abused sponge from one too many passes on the burnt pan. Ha, that’s me. Still giving my all - in whatever pieces are left of me, trying to shine the world. Silly I am. I’m ready to get out of here… or find myself again, and stop smothering my heart. It’s an out of control fire and my day to day has become the dirt. I think if I exhale in a week you may just see smoke pouring from my lungs… I’m burning out. Can you tell?

— The End —