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Indigo Apr 2018
You are self aware that love is your way of saving a life.

Remember the ex who was suicidal
Then the one with father issues
The one with loneliness the size of the sky
The one with a thousand scars on his arm
That one who was an introvert
The one who was an addict
The one who had depression for breakfast
And the one who loved self harm

Who saves you when realize you don't know how to love?
All that was empathy
All that was sympathy

All these boys you wished to save
But never did
All these boys you wished to save
But left in the end
All these boys you wished to save
But killed instead.
This is not a poem in the true sense of the word, but rather expressing feelings and thoughts that haunt my head during this time of my life.. And that is the essence of poetry i believe.
Nayana Nair Mar 2018
I knew in that moment
that I must run out into the darkness
and find a way
that even the streetlights avoid.
Find a place with no roads
where flowers of new season
will hide my unsure steps.
I knew I had to run away
Or I will never be the same.
So that I don’t loose everything
I (almost) have.
I must run back to that house in wilderness
that I left behind,
to the life I left behind.
So that there are no more graves
of my loved ones
with my name as the murderer engraved.
while soaring the heavenly heights
     many hours ago
every major metropolis appeared
     about a million miles below

the rarefied atmosphere
     ideal composition beckoned angels,
     who bustled, hustled, and jostled elbow
     (which bedlam, flimflam, and mayhem

     intimated Hells Bells)
wing trying (heavens to Betsy) to flag attention,
     and snag coveted soundcloud Netherland Award
     cap ping bulging port folio,

which hubbub charged crackled, popped,
     snapped amidst light emitting diodes
     with a snazzy aura, charisma
     harp pulling, piping, and chiefly

     paying praise (CI years post haste)
     to William Henry Perkin
     whose credit able karma
     (and unwitting) claim to fame didst glow
     purple, which jumpstarted incandescent halo

couture culture club, via constant comet inflow
of Plasmodia vaguely resembling microscopic red Jello
illuminating swath of dusky
     shutter flying sky sustaining

     self contained feedback instagram loop know
wing lee broadcasting mauveine staccato low
to the groundswell of chemists dyeing, Googling,
     and gratefully huzzahing insinuating

     killing, kindling kissing
     malaria goodbye, an outlook
     (nee a once in a lifetime moe
mint - je nais sais quoi) win out loud

     respectably sedulous honoree, a no
bill sine qua non bit player aniline
     (to conclude this short poem) about his oh
penning accidental discovery kickstarting pro
noun est contribution to the fashion industry.
are my bullets
they pull my finger
tracers
shoot
from
thier
ears
feed
me
letters an words

they are beggard


thief style is complete
the
others
considered

me as an freak

they copy my style
and say they
are
three


ok
me myself and i

never mind
letters
an
words
?























...
..
.
freaking idiots
Gulishta Nov 2017
I'm happy,that you are happy.
I'm celebrating your love.
I'm standing here beside you.
Watching you walking down the aisle,
Toward your one true love.

I pray to God everyday,
For him to never let you loose your smile.
I'm asking him to take care of you,
Since I've given up on what has been mine.

You've asked me,
if I ever fell for someone,
If I  ever missed someone.
I didn't answered,just walked off,
Then I looked up in the sky and said
SO MUCH.

You have a life,
full of love ahead of you,
Don't ask me to come back.
You have everything you ever wanted,
Just loose your best friend.
Evie Richards Sep 2017
I thought I'd hit my lowest point,
that I had nowhere left to sink,
that the darkest place I could ever reach
was stuck within my finger-tips.

But I can see the light shining through
from behind fingers solidly stuck,
And I guess I didn't have much to loose
before I could build myself back up.
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