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Zywa Oct 2
My house is getting

overgrown, and so am I --


by my memories.
Poem by the Japanese emperor Juntoku (1197-1242): Momoshiki ya / Furuki nokiba no / Shinobu ni mo / Nao amari aru / Mukashi nari keri

Collection "Inwardings"
Kirito Oct 1
the gentle wind that touch my face
reminds me of your sleeping face
take a guess my love will never less
words that i received i feel it in my chest,
all the things you said,
i will keep it like a treasure chest
Emery Feine Sep 29
There's never been a poem written about me
But if there was, this is how I'd want it to be:

Her hair looked like the waves from the sea
Her determination was like a bumble bee
She wanted nothing more than to be free
She thought as she drank her favorite tea,
"One day you'll love me too, maybe"
"Maybe you'll love me too," said she
And one day when I climbed a tree
I shouted to the world her name and its syllables of three
But I never really knew her, so I could never see
How her mind was trapped in a memory
And I could never free my love, Emery
this is my 70th poem, written on 12/21/23.. I don't like this one
Ayesha Zaki Sep 28
Reminiscing old, long-lost memories
that we once lived for,
is like pressing on bruises
that are not yet healed.

The bittersweet pain of our reverie,
seeks to mingle
with the weary, blurred lines
of the so-called 'peace'
we've come to accept.

Maybe it’s not the silence
or the yearning for what's long gone,
but the desire to at least,
for once, feel something
in this slow-burning,
hope-filled fever dream.
It seemed to go on forever, yet I still woke up.
Louise Sep 27
So many more things I would have loved
to share with you.
So many more stories I would have loved
to exchange with you.
So many more words I would have loved
to learn and unlearn with you.
So many more emotions I would have loved to know if you feel the same way, too.
So many more things I would have loved
to share with you.
Your music.
Your warmth.
Your personal space.
Your laughter and their sounds, reverberating between our bodies.
Our bodies.
The night.
My tongue.
The silver moon sparkling.
Your necklace, I want to share it, too.
Your rib and my rib, kissing too.
As friends
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