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Zelda Jun 1
Some people are the morning
And some the night

I am a short-lived moment
making false promises
The soft sunset
lost in neon lights
The quiet sunrise
tip-toeing out the door

I am the in between
Empty sheets, empty streets
I am the in between
Wasted time, wasted lines

You should know me by now
I am everything you claim to love
And everything you can take for granted

You never need to worry about me

I-I am just a body you wanted to know
Some people are...
I-I am just a body you thought you knew
Some people are...
I-I am just a body you used to know

Some people are your morning
And some your night

I am what I am
A short-lived moment
the in between
at least a few lines,
might as well a word
or perhaps a period,
and only for that moment,
betrayal to “I would resist”,
in constant, shall happen.
Anais Vionet Feb 2023
I shaved my legs this morning. “Alexa, put dinosaur Band-Aids on my shopping list.”

Once you get in the college routine, time speeds up
One minute you’re young and carefree
the next you’re young and free-time free.

MIT guys

A group of MIT students were visiting Yale for some event. Sophie, Anna and I were in the residential dining hall. I’d finished eating and I was trying to read, when this group of MIT guys swauntered in.

My impression of MIT guys is that they’re short and they flirt a lot. They’re all over the place, like they’re manic or on holiday and they think they’re going to pick up girls. (on a Tuesday night)

One guy said, “I’m new to the area, could you help me with directions to your house?”

Another came up with, “I’ve just become religious, ‘cause you’re the answer to my prayers.”

“What are you up to tonight?” This short stranger asks, leaning rudely on our table and acting like he’s lookin’ to get inside-the-ride.

“I’ve gotta read two chapters before tomorrow,” I said, somewhat annoyed with these dinkheads. They finally decided (realized) we’re boring and moved on to other female diners.

standing in line

Americans seem to love lines. I hate standing in lines. People don’t line up for things in Paris. There aren’t “bus lines.” The person who guessed right and is closest to where the bus door stops and opens, or the quickest person or the most ruthless person will be first on the bus. There aren’t any lines at cinemas or the boulangerie (bakery) or even at the Apple store - Apple tried to impose American style order - but #forgetaboutit.

possible mistakes

“I want a blonde boyfriend,” Leong said out of the random last night,
”and dye my hair blonde.” Leong’s from Macau, China. Her glossy, cornsilk hair is a sumptuous curtain of raven black.

“Noo,” Anna and Lisa said, almost in unison.
“I’d trade you,” I said, freely offering my baby blonde rat's-nest.

“There’s an individual,” Leong began, “I see when leaving chemistry class, who has the most beautiful head of frosted blonde tips. Let me just show you,” she says, pulling up her phone.

“You got a picture?” Sunny asked - she loves stalking.
“No!” Leong snorted, insultedly, “Investigative research on Instagram.”

“Is this a potential mate?” Sophie asked.
”I think it’s a suiter,” Leong said, slyly smiling, to laughs all around.

“Woah, Let me see em!” Lisa said, reaching for the phone.
“Gimmie!” Anna demands too.

“Should I project it?” Leong asks, waving her phone around to protect it.
“Hells, yes!” Sophie practically shouts.

“So, it’s the frosted tips that get you?” Sunny says, “Ooo, PSA, if you’re a man looking for a beautiful Chinese lover..”

Our 55” TV becomes Leong’s Insta feed and the pic pops up.

There’s a second of silence. “I think it’s a girl,” Lisa said, squinting and tilting her head.

We all study the pic. Is this the right person? I wonder.

“You may be a Lesbian,” Sunny whispers, before the room descends into chaos.
swaunter = saunter with swagger
inside the ride = get an invitation to something.. personal.
dinkhead = immature morons
Ken Pepiton Nov 2022
Enough, and a bit less, if need be, see
enough is enough to share,
think of the air.
All we think alone, we think as well,
aloud as silent,

we may, think of works, wit wounded
sounds spoken indelicately, as if
somschit nevamattah, same same same
shamesolain shame shame shame,

she shoulda knowd… ah,

there's the rub.
Glazel Salundro Aug 2022
"... and we were like parallel lines. We were not destined for each other and will never be."

"It depends on what type of geometry you're referring to. In hyperbolic geometry, parallel lines meet at an ideal point - a point at infinity. I don't mind living in hyperbolic space. Would you?"
I S A A C Mar 2022
i like to revel in the grey
black and white too straight
i like to read in between the lines
i would like for you to be mine
but only if you want to
I only want you in this room, underneath the full moon
kiss until it’s noon, is forever too soon?
from dusk to dawn, the king or the pawn
as long as you want to play, my hand is yours to take
from weak to strong, we can build each other up
as long as you want to lay, always together through the night and day
John McCafferty Jul 2021
It's all been done before
Time, as a construct is illusionary.
Past, present and future are combined.
There are no dividing lines
We have existed in awe
to learn again from our elder selves.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Raven Feels Jun 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, when you wish upon a star
your dreams come true-Cliff Edwards---do they? :>

remember when you called us quits too soon
one year later in a **** same room
all the blacks and whites grayed out a little on me
but never returned the woods in thousand dreams

remember when you took that hug in a theft
burned the station down and couldn't hear a left
but things a carry a chocolate cake would never cut
all so small to you but me just a single much

remember when the ice we clanged and freed
even the cold I've missed the day you chose a fleeing cheat
all the hours and runs we held the hands and lilac
but I know again a no more a wont come back

remember the dark ages we bled and rhymed
cared and favored out on every other than not crime
all the shadows and hunts tracing the midnight sky
but the stars would never forget a lover's align

but my heart and soul would never know to draw a line
but my nights and getaways would never dim a dime
but my soul can't erase veins on violin classic chimes

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