Amanda 21m
I am grateful every day
For all the small things you do
Because I know when i am older
It's the little things I'll  hold onto
Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things.
-Robert Brault
There's something about rainy days that bring me such joy;

My dear, it reminds me of you.

And coffee makes it that much more comfortable.

The warmth of each taste reminds me of your lips.

Oh, the way the soft mist from the rain reaches my somber face.

Every evanescent touch you'd caress me with.

I'll pull my cup close, if only to keep it safe.

How your hands, like a cage, kept me.

There's something about a cup of coffee and the rain.

My dear, it's the most bittersweet memories I cherish.
My whole life waiting for you,
through the seasons,
as time passes slowly,

with flowers blooming in the spring,
flowers are wilting with tears in the fall,
time is moving too slowly.

Many lovers have come and gone,
with all the goodbyes,
too many tears have fallen over the years.

You, my darling Angel,
your spirit remains in my heart,
uplifting my Soul though life on wilting days.

Chasing away the sad days
of tears falling on
wilting flowers,

always bringing memories,
of blooming cherry blossoms, roses, and love
in the spring.

Copyright © 2018 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved
Blooming Memories poem (text to Speech)
https://youtu.be/ZzQHIeU89eU
Oh how the times have change since I last saw your face.
Funnily enough the hardest thing to replace is your warm embrace.
You smile was worth a thousand pictures, valuable in a thousand lifetimes never to be seen again.

There is poetic beauty in that simple fact but it pales in comparison to its counterpart....its simple truth that the sorrow that comes with this could not be refuted.  

There is sorrow in missing you.
There is joy in your memory and in every rehealm you are always the dream that breaks my heart as the morning dorns upon my wake, opening my eyes my only mistake.

I found a kindred spirit in you.
A friend to keep.
But you were never mine to hold on to, you were destined for greater than these worldly things.
Here on earth you were merely an angel that lost her wings.

I love you like the night and the rain, just only my favorite things. And I'll remember you like I know my name.
For my love for you will stay the same.
I lost a dear friend of mine a couple days before my birthday a few years ago. She was in a car accident, some minutes away from reaching home. It changed me in many ways except one. My love for her. I wrote this on her birthday just to place my emotions somewhere.
Monika 6h
So....I was thinking.
About some past mistakes that I made.
I feel sorry.
That feels like an understatement actually.

I feel terrible for doing what I did,
but okay because she isn't real.
Was that wrong?
Because it feels wrong and I wish it wasn't.
It tortures me a little.

And then the music.


T̷͖̙̒͒͆̓͒̃͊͛̚h̴̞͕͂ê̶̡̡̨̛͚̗̆̑͐̅͛̏̃͋͌͑̚͝ ̷̪̹͔͔̬̭͛̃̇̚͜m̴̡͕̤̹̂̏͐̓́̔̍ư̵͓̭̙̖̪̰̻͈̚ś̶̨̧͈̣͈̰̙̙̗͓͇͆͒̇͗̈́͊͗͛̃͘͜ĩ̴­̨̹̼̻̥̥̯̻͚̟̜̭̞̲̑̽͐̋̒̓̈́̇̇̍̕̕͘͝ͅc̸̠̻͉͖̻͙͖̥̜̣̺̊͌̽̋̋̏̕ ̷͎͈̻̾g̸̢̛̱̥͇͎͖̤͗ļ̵̮̦̖̬̟͖̊͒͂̄̽̎i̷̡̢̭͎͖̙̝̼͇̜̻͔̐̂̍̅̑̈́͠t̶̛̖͉̻̆̈̋̐͝͠͝­͍̤͙c̷̣̐́͒̈́̾̔̾̚h̸͔͛̔ë̴̘̭́̄̿͂̑̂̌͊̋̕̚s̸̡͔͍̫͉̩̪̘̘̐̆̎̉̎͑̀͠͠ͅ ̵͎̥͈͉̯͍̣̻̩̻̦̅̅̓̃̍̈́o̶̙̺̜͉̻̝̐́̽̊̽̓͂́̂̚͝͝͝ų̷̢̡̠̰̤̗͉͍͎̱̤̰̈́̈́̑̿͗̈́̌̚̕͜͠­ẗ̵͔́.̵̧̦͚͎͔̞̹͊̌̇̈́̏̎̄̐͆̿̽̎̿̚͜͝
̶̡̼͑͊̉̆̀̍̄͋̊̕T̴̩̯̠͚̒̐̃̈́͋̈̏̍͜h̶͈̯̋̒̽­͇̹͉̞̱̠̲e̸͚̭̺̺̲̮̼͊̌̊̀̏̀̑̇̍̆̀ ̷̥͙̜̘̭̘̟͕̻̀̋̈͘͝m̵͉̖̲̱͇͑̅̉̐͒̉͑͐̆͜͝e̸̻̮̩̖̜͈͗̒̂̄͊͐͠l̴̥͛̐͐̾̄́̅̚o̷͑͂̄͠­͈̗̪̤͕̦̟̗̫̼̲͇̺̞͋͋̌̾̏͌͐͆̏͂d̷̢̧̧̢̞̫͕͕͖̹̻̞͎̆͘i̷͕̥̙̳̻̠̍̀̇̀͘ẽ̷̛͎̗s̵̓̂̒­̢̗̼͓̙̽̋̀͌̃̽͗̀̓͂͝ ̶̡̨̛͇̱͎̰͇͇͙̎̉̀̾͝ş̷̨̥̦̖̗̘̠̱̻̻͊̅͛̆͊̍͌̚͜͝o̸̻̹̘̹͋̾͐ų̸̨̥̖̲̫̪͉̙̪͔͉̞͝ͅ­n̶̢̨̢̬̦̤͕̖̗͖͇̺͍̼̗͒̀͊͐̃̇̚d̶͈̗̮̥̹̯͑͐̿͛͐͒͛̃̚͝͠ ̵̩̥̹́̆l̴̡̥̰̯̹̯̹̠̒̈́̾̒̓͛͑̉͌͑ë̸̢̛̖͚͇̹̜̺̟̪̻͉͎́̓͐̂̌͊͐͋̋̽̕ͅs̸͉̲̽̊͗͌̎̈́̂s­̸̧̥͚̼̝̱̣̬̘͚́̓͆͐̏ ̸̡̨̛̲͍̗̈́͊̽͂́͌͋̊̈͐͊̀͒̚ṗ̸̱͉̑̽́͂͐̏̂͂̓̌̐̾ȩ̶̖̞͓̘̩͔̫͎̹̩̦͓͔͍̓͑̓̒͆̀̆̈́̄̚­ã̶̢̠c̶̨̧͎̼̭̰̩̠͈͂̀͆̽̊̉́͊̓̕͜͠e̴̖̹͎̜͖̫̙͛̽́f̴̛͙͇͚̟͍̬͓̭͊͑̽̃̔̍̔̑̂͘̚u̸͠­̝̜̈́͒͝l̵̡̤̫̫̞̩̟̔͊͜.̴̨͍̤̦͚̯̥̤̪̥͗͒̇͠
̴̮̥̮͈̼̤͛̒̐A̶̧̹̰̹̜͙̪̘̟̭͓̕͜ǹ̵́͑̾­̢̥̘͐͆͂̍̽͝d̵̫͈͕͕͔̤͈̥̐̒͑̓͒̎̏̀͜͝͠ ̵̡̦̝͉̺͍͊̄̈̚̚͜i̷̠̥͕͕̍͝ţ̶̥̣͖̩̙̗̻̺͍͖̻͙̣̆̍ͅ ̶̢̢̟͚͔̩̲̠̤̣̲̺͖̣͆̈̽̀͠d̵̛̪͎̞̯͚̻͍̩̐͋͒̅́̃̓͑͂̋̆͂͌͠r̶͈̞̫̙̤̲̮͛́͗̍̑͛̈́̈́i̴͘­̧̡̙̰̳̪̫̩̬̜͛͋v̴̻̠̺̹͓̇͒̌͜e̷̱̓̈́̽̀͗̚ş̸̡͈̙̙͉̩̜̫͇̫̜͍̈͑̈́̇̑ ̵̩͍̪̤̱̦̼̀͆̏̊̏͝m̴̧̬͓͓͚̗͖̦͔̜̜̚͜è̵̡̗̘̘̼̦͐̎̏̄͐̎̚͠ ̶̧͓̯̙͍͕̔̆̚ç̴̹̭̱̯̰̰̭̣̿̃̓̕͠ͅr̴̭̤̙̞̙͇̺̺͎̲̪͉͐͊̏a̶̛̪̺̫͎z̶̛͚̀͛̏y̴̛̅͑͋͠­̡̜̟̳̥̪̳̮̦̞̳̳̺͐͜ ̷̧̖̟̬̾̈͜s̶͓͓̝̑̃̂̀̽̽̕ó̷̥̲͚̼̓̕͠͝m̷̝̞̥̈̉̽̐͒̍̇̀e̷̢̡̬͇̳͚̫̽̍̿̃̔͐͂̾̓̒̒̓­̻t̶͇̭̳̱͕̣̘̜͔̼̞̱̟͚̼̊͊̄̈́̏̃͋̈͘į̵͍̞͔͖̫͇̖̔̌̿̀̌̈͐m̸̘̪̼̱͆̏̌̅̈́̔̄̄e̴̹͛̈́̐͘­̧̣̥͉̗̦͎̹͎͇ș̵̨̭̞͖̩͍͕͇̤̒̋̍͆̕͠.̶̜͉̼̙̬͓̜̣̼̣̹͔͖͓̓̂͜͠
̵̠̃͐͒B̵̎̈̀̈͑͋̔͗̕­̺͉͍̜̳̬͚̳̖ę̸̡̛̞̼̬̼͔̲̤̈́̾͋͂̌͊̌ͅc̸͉̰͙̱̬͕̖͍̔̉͆̏͋́͗̓͝a̸̤̹̮̺̻͉̭̲̳͚̱̜̓͑͑­̧̙͓u̷̯̩͉̣̻̳͆͛̇š̶͍̰̖̻̫̖̬͍ě̷̢̢̨̥̪̪͕̭̠̩̩͍̩̚ ̷̲̦̭͙̭̼̂̽̆̇̓͘i̶̬̙̥̬̼͔̔́̃̂̃̃̕̚͝͝t̷̬̩̣̪͉̣̲̫̯͇̗͆̅̈́͛͒̀̈̃̉̐̊͠͝͠͠ ̵͇͇͔̖̣̪͆n̴̘̝̘̩̲̟̬̟͕̬̖̽̈́͛̌̕͠ȩ̷̧̱̒͛͒̎v̶̮̣̄̄͛̅̔̐̎̕͝e̵̛͇̯̪̱̱̽̐͛̽͑͑̚̕­̣̯r̴̛̞̣͔̮̙̠̥̊̈͋̀̌̀̃̾̄͆͐ ̴̛̫̺̽͂̈́̋̈́̈́̽̇̿̃͋̒͝ê̴̪̾̓ņ̶̪̭̙͕̖̕d̴̩͇̠̺͕̟̤̙̭̫̬̤̤̈͋́͝s̷̯̠̼͚̣͌̈́͌̏͂̉ͅ­̘͔̘͖̹̳̬͜.̷̢̢͓̟͒̉̍̎̎̍
It never stops.
Never

Wait....
What am I even talking about?
You know what? Let's forget about it.

Where was I? Right.
I don't know how to feel about this.
I have so many mixed emotions,
and I don't know how to feel sometimes.

I wish my problems would just go away.
I'm just thinking about the past.
Will you forgive me?
I remember when we were young
And we used to fall into bed
Eyes closed
In my old haunted room
On my old haunted bed
The one filled with memories

And we’d listen to
“Everybody Else Is Doing It,
So Why Can’t We?”
On my old cheap boom-box
On a used CD
We were only sixteen
And we’d think about the meaning of life
All the while longing for death
Playing dead on my old haunted bed

And how Johnny stared down the bottom of a barrel
Trying to find the love his father never gave
Found truth
Push and pull
Blew his mind
Set alight
Bruised skies
His scattered thoughts playing across
The four dimensions of a box
The ones they took
And sowed back together wrong
Evidence made clear
When they put his manikin on display

I didn’t cry I remember
He wasn’t the first to take flight
And it wasn’t my time
Hard as I tried
He wasn’t the last either
And it was never quite my time

I didn’t cry I remember
When they buried his seed
Six feet deep
We were only sixteen
And I always wondered
As we listened to that old scratched CD
If everybody else could do it
Then why couldn’t we?

M•(e). Díaz
Panda 18h
Sometimes, I need wine to think.
Not the taste, the smell of the drink
Makes my heart race
And old memories pace
Till I pour out the sap in the sink.
I pride,
In many things.
Little and big.
Existing and imaginary.
Useful and unnecessary.
Almost ubiquitously.

I take pride in my mind, most of all.
In the many wonders it brings me.
It lets me wave
at the voyagers that zip by
as I swim,
weightless and cold
in the eternal stardust of would bes.

It lets me simmer
in the memory of a younger day.
Of all the loves loved
and the ones lost
I pride the ones that never gave way.
Like old paintings
stowed away deeply
fragments,
moving,
ageing effortlessly.

I take pride in the fact that I have one true friend
and not many.
I don't know why I take pride in it though
I would understand culling a herd, if I had any.

I take pride in a soul that has learnt to love so deeply.
Deeper than the rivers of the world
and tumultuous as the sea
I take pride in my dog, sitting
when I command it.
I take pride in the fact that,
At least he understands it.

I take pride in the words that I think
and regret the ones I don't.

I take pride in understanding the existence of truth
and its relentless need to run and hide away.

I take pride in my people
and in their endless rebellion against sanity.
I take pride in their manic displays of affection
despite their distaste for the same affectations.
I take pride in their synchronized entropy,
beautiful,
much like the death of a galaxy.  

I take pride in the songs I hear,
the sonnets of love and despair.
of first discoveries,
and fevered dreams.
Of Kings and conquerors
and knights against the regime.
Of their legends that soar and rise and
go beyond where the grave lies.

I take pride in the mirror.
Though broken and shattered beyond repair
it bestows me with honesty
about the one that I care.

I take pride in all these aberrations,
in these tiny little manipulations.

These effervescent little marionettes
forever dancing within constellations.
i can't count the times
i almost said what's on my mind
but i didn't [why did i hold back from you]
just the other day
i wrote down all the thing's i'd say
but i couldn't
i just couldn't [why did none of us say anything we thought about - communicating is our problem]
baby [honey] i know that you've been wondering
mmm, so here goes nothing [everything]

in case you didn't know
baby i'm crazy 'bout you
and i would be lying if i said
that could live this life without you [are you lying?]
even though i don't tell you all the time
you had my heart a long, long time ago [r e l a t a b l e]
in case you didn't know

the way you look tonight [every time]
that second glass of wine [the first time we ever kissed]
that did it, mmm
there was something 'bout that kiss [......]
girl it did me in
got me thinking
i'm thinking
one of the things that i've been feeling
mmm it's time you hear 'em

[chorus]

you've got all of me [every. single. bit.]
i belong to you
yeah you're my everything [i love you.]
side comments by jessica a tomovcsik
Jiro 1d
In the bliss of a river is where I feel the most alive
Is in sequence my skin and mind both at once thrive
My very being surrounded by a flush of aqua liquid

Only on soaked gray days I relish in with you
We glisten together
Hand in hand
Eye in eye
Spirit in spirit

Cloudy and darkened twilit skies above us
Splashing one another's dreams in conversion
Not either one able to make a single fuss

How can this feeling be?
We shouldn't perceive this, not in this instance
Yet everything seems perfect, when all I envision is your very existence

As the nightlong moon begins to rise, begging our pairing to part
Breakaway we will not, or to soon this recollection shall end
Then anew, we will be forced to start

But with memories like this, held up as high as the clear sky
In the bliss of a river is where we both feel the most alive
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