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jewel 5d
vhs flickers, tv static, i blink once
and my whole world has disappeared.
i lean into the feel of your hands that call
my body “home”, but they do not feel me:
tell me what you want.

i watch the men mingle with women; touch
sandwiched between skin and the slick and
for once i cannot breathe because
it suffocates me.

what is it like?
to be given so much that you must take?

like oil on canvas, a vivid depiction of a love
we shared in my fantasy; i’m chasing after
a passionate night
still haunted by a graphite shadow.

gray winter light & umbrella for the rain;
i sit in my disappointment because this coat is
much too thin, so i begin to wish
that it is warmer for me in someone else’s arms

so much to give yet no one to share with.
it’s a tragedy, i know— i know love is born in the flesh,
yet swallowed through our bodies intertwined,
sweat & the afterglow of our parting lips
long after we’ve kissed

when i hover, heat of yours melds to mine;
skin warm, replaced by the gentle grasp of
wishing i had been— then your irises are raking
through ink of a book. breaths bated, arms
brushing because finally you do not see me

i step out into the rain bare,
breathing in satisfaction,
touched only by the purity of rain.
i can’t help but to smile as i let
the gloom kiss my skin
copyrighted, poemsbyjewel (2025).
Ian K 6d
Marble is cold
like a lover, scorned.
Hard. Cutting.
It rejects heat.

Yet,
If you should touch
that frigid matter,
painstakingly, you can bring it to life;

make it look like there is blood
flooding through that stone.
Suhei Mar 1
Sorry for loving you
I am sorry that you have to love me
I never deserve you nor I will
I thought I can be person you can love

But ......

I look like story that will untold
A burning candle that can not be hold
I wish for your happiness and wish for lover that can not be
I hope you try to forgave me
Mri Feb 22
We are apart, the frayed red string is broken
One soul now scattered, across two galaxies
The ocean of my heart , with a tsunami can't reach yours
Ego refused to sail the boundary, leaving us with cold memories.

Tinted sky sets with warm sun,
I sit in peace, miss my shoulder with your head
Flowers of Magnolia are, scattered on the field
Your tresses in the air, the beauty you won.

Who will now embellish you?
My fingers , your hair , is now a wide divide.
My smile, your talk, is now faded apart.
My hug , your warm, is now gone from my life.

Is this what you've decided?
How do we embrace the ever changing tide in our life?
Ligaya Feb 5
In my heart is a burning desire
to give you love that is as breathtakingly fierce as a wildfire
but is as tenderly calming as a soft rain—
the kind that kisses away pain.
Yet if I cannot take your pain away,
still, let me stay.
Share it with me,
even if I, too, must bear it for eternity.
I will adore you in your every color, every hue—
yellow, red, green, blue.
To you, I am deeply and utterly devoted,
my only, always, and beloved.
Àŧùl Feb 1
A Group-B Gazetted Officer,
Working in the shoes of an
Assistant Audit Officer,
Assigned to the Railways
At The Office of the Director General of Audit,
North Eastern Railway HQ,
Gorakhpur.

A former Probationary Officer,
Of an Assistant Manager-grade
With the State Bank of India,
Working in the Chandigarh circle
And posted in my hometown,
Now I miss my mother,
Really.

Before that I tried to get a PhD,
However, I quit it during COVID,
Because age doesn't wait,
Time isn't locked down,
And I had nothing to lose,
Only exams to crack,
And interviews to groove.

Lost love? What's that? A lonely dove?

I've my parents with me,
And I have my victories,
The stories of which I relive,
And these memories boost me,
The euphoria of Nostradamus,
It envelops me in totalus,
Never me, never free.

Even after they transcend to afterlife,
I'll have their teachings with me,
Well, that's a case if I live beyond them,
Because as of now, improbable it seems,
I'm unable to imagine a life without them,
We are trying our level best to look for a lady,
A humble lady who can teach me more,
And also learn something new from me.

Born on December 23, 1990,
In Karnal city of Haryana,
At the strike of 20:53 hours,
Grew up much loved albeit a bit lonely,
For my parents' child I'm the one and only,
I love writing original songs, poems, and novels too,
Now I look to co-author my next one with my wifey.
My HP Poem #2044
©Atul Kaushal
Feep Jan 26
Tuesday
It’s another day.
Yet is it?
Tuesday is the day we met
Tuesday is the day I seen my whole world change
Tuesday is the day I felt complete

Friday.
Friday is the day you called me cute and laughed at a lame joke i made
Friday is the day you noticed my hair light brown  
Friday is the day your hand brushed against mine and chills ran down my body.

Sunday
Sunday is the day I run errands
Sunday is the day I felt excited to see you Monday
Sunday is when my world crashed when I seen you with her

Monday is just a day, like any other day
Monday is the day I miss Tuesday, wishing it was part of Friday
Monday is the day I wipe tears because its a reminder of Sunday,

All the days of the week yet Friday lingers in my mind as if Sunday never existed.
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