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Neev K Oct 2014
I read so much poetry about love yet I've never been in love
But I'm not sure if I want to be
Full of longing and sadness
Is it better to have loved and lost than have never loved at all?
I'm not sure
But I've never loved
And never been loved.
Peeling petals of wax
from fingertips
dipped
in melted tears
wept
from the flaming eye
of the wick.
one for every lost love
that had no opportunity
to flower.
Morgan Bethaney Sep 2014
the sun's going down, but
it's not gorgeous like it should be
the trees are green, but
they're dimmer than they should be
bet he's in bed with a girl
wishing it was me
I mean, maybe
or maybe I just wish it was me
VG E Bacungan Sep 2014
If the lines in my forehead,
be the multiplier of your laughter;
bid grimaced be my days.

If the tears that I shed,
be the sugar in your tea;
let it rain.

If my yelps of pain,
be the lyrics to your song;
take away my voice.

If the cuts on my flesh,
be the curve on your smiles;*
dice me.

If the blood I bleed,
be your elixir of happiness;

deplete me completely.

If the punctures on my heart,
bequeath rays on your sun;

stab me some more.

If the failures I commit,
be the perfection of your day;

wrong me.

If my downfall,
be your supreme ecstasy;

I've long prepared my gravestone.

//So in the end I may say:
I have accomplished my role.
To be the liberation of your morbid soul...//


My existence . .  .
**is at your disposal.
It's been a long time since I last posted a poem... Hey there guys! how have my dear fellow aspiring poets been doing? Lately I've joined our school's literary publication (The Spires) and I've been lucky enough to have got in as one of the EBs. This poem is one of my works published there...hopefully it will be. hahaha. :D
Non Jarvis Sep 2014
Heno, ‘dw i’n syllu,
Heno, ti’n gwingo,
Heno, ‘dw i’n gwintyllu
Yr awel sy’n ddi-flino.

Heno, ti adra,
A’r hiraeth wedi cilio.
Heno, ‘dw i adra,
A’r atgof yn fy mlingo.

Heno, does na’m newid
i be’ ti’n deimlo,
i be ‘dw i’n gofio.
Heno, nid oes addewid,
Heno, nid oes ni.
This poem is in Welsh, my mother tounge. The translation below is literal, and therefore does not rhyme as it does in Welsh;

Heno - Tonight

Tonight, I'm staring,
Tonight, you're writhe.
Tonight, I'm dissecting,
The breeze that's non stop.

Tonight, you're home,
And the longing has dissapeared.
Tonight, I'm home,
And the memory is skinning me.

Tonight, there's no change
to what you're feeling
to what I remember.
Tonight, there's no promise,
Tonight, there's no us.
His world changed that Tuesday afternoon.
He ignored the shifting wind,
The roots of something else devoured
The beauty of the original.
Branches of distrust guarded the once clear way,
The path now dingy and dilapidated.
Wonder once misted where
Despair now looks to.
Melancholy instruments strung out of tune
And a haunting melody throughout the room.
Did he not feel the shift?
Or taste the sour air,
Or smell the bitter perfume,
Or even look at the avenue?
Did he hear the coming change?

His shadow casts pure black
On all he sees,
Extinguishing the light
That once was warmth.
He became as cold
As the polar bears,
But didn't have the strength to
Learn how to love.
Macroscian: (person) casting long shadow; inhabitant of polar region.
Some gone
And feeling like the girl next door,
No way to show how
I was or am.
Try too hard only to be let down easy.
Your playmate.

And as you play with my heart
I lay in the corner
Trodden over and forgotten.

Black is my heart today...
Suggilate: Beat black and blue
Teenage Mess Aug 2014
She used to yell when i stayed up for four days straight.
She used to cry when I'd come home late.
She used to scream every time i got high.
She used to ask about every cut i tried to hide.
She used to do a lot of things.
She, my mother, used to care...
Now she doesn't even have an ounce to spare.
Megan Wilcox Aug 2014
I saw you
for the first time
in weeks.

My heart thudded
to a stop
and red were my cheeks.

I've missed you
so much
I could barely breathe.

But it was time for me
to go
I needed to leave.

No final goodbye
or sweet hello
Just another stranger,
A loveless fellow.
la Aug 2014
THIS IS ANOTHER NIGHT OF HATRED.
AND I HATE YOU BECAUSE I WRITE SOMETHING
ABOUT YOU; NOT IN THE ROMANTIC WAY
OF SPILLED-INK WORDS BUT RATHER THE AGONY
OF THE PAST YOU BROUGHT TO ME.
YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND HOW LONELY AND
MISERABLE MY SOUL IS, UNTIL YOU CRAWL EACH
INCH OF MY SKIN AND DEVOUR THE POISONOUS
IMAGES OF MY MIND, NOT UNLESS YOU WITNESS
HOW I WAS BORN AND HOW MY EYES GRIEVE FOR
THAT DAY. THIS IS ANOTHER LETTER FOR YOU, THAT
YOU WILL NEVER READ.
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