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Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2022
Oh the wax
upon my fingers,
burns of antecedent time;
sticky and unpleasant.
Drips of vagueness,
like tears before bed.
Crying appeal always so strange.
The shape of you,
a thin tall tower of white.
Sometimes red,
as my eyes staring at the dark's
only light.

Scented in desire,
an orange jelly at her centre,
I'd love you only now,
but what of later's pleasure?
The winds of my lungs kills the light,
with it's dues of pressure.
Ssssttt—goes the after echo,
of wet fingers on wick.
Feeling an empty dark
without you around.

                                                      A feeling once lit.
Àŧùl May 2021
The bonfire is lit warm,
It is comfortable as a quilt.

We look at the photos,
Inside of our wallets.

The parents, the wife and kids,
Probably for the last time we kiss.

Tomorrow is the final battle,
We make a treatise with death.

Either she takes the novice boys,
Or let us send them to her.
My HP Poem #1928
©Atul Kaushal
Man Feb 2021
in her clenched hand
she held a rose,
recently wilted

i saw its thorns
dug into her palm
like wire barbed

small and unassuming
gasping for breath
she had the heavy scent
of gasoline
each iris was a lit match
and she laid her gaze on me

let me be your fuel,
burn me down
and lament over the ashes
Chris Chaffin Jan 2021
Candles flicker
with begged forgiveness,

each tender wick
a glowing reminder,

each drop of wax
a tear sliding down
the father’s cheek.

Having lit them all,
I wait for him to come.
J Dec 2020
Candles are how we keep fires as pets.
we scoop the pyre into our palms
and dump it into pots
and expect it to stay lit on its own.
I keep getting worse at writing
Rome Nov 2020
From the texture of your palm in which I believed it was smooth when all this time it had been rough.

From the joy in your eyes whenever I'd look and stare at them as if nothing matters when all this time they were dull and filled with anger.

From the sweet words you feed me in my everyday life where I believed every single word only to find out it was nothing but pure lies and empty.

The laughter, the smiles, the giggles, the acts, the affirmation
all of them were nothing but lies that hides from a beautiful face.

But regardless how much I know this much was true,
I couldn't help but to still choose you over and over again,
until I set my sanity free and chose to be blinded
by the beauty you had

on the outside.
Sarah Flynn Oct 2020
be careful when handling me.
my body was built with gunpowder,
and someone lit my fuse
long before we met.

be aware that at any moment,
I could burst.

you can run away now
and never look back,

or you can wait here with me
and together, we'll look up at the sky.

it's entirely your choice.

but, darling, if you can't accept
the chaos inside of me,

then you will have no right
to comment on
my beautiful explosion.
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