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Zywa Oct 6
I walk all day long,

thinking all the time, thinking --


of you, behind me.
Poem "Wandeling" ("Walking", 2004, Anna Enquist), in memory of her daughter Margit (1974-2001)

Collection "Stall"
ro g Sep 25
i miss the necklaces you gifted me,
the amethysts you made with your lips
that adorned my neck
and turned our shared whispers in bed
into a bold claim, "MINE."
Hey, Do you remember that day?
Inside the Little beautiful coffee shop,
You were waiting for someone,
Who didn't come that day!

The flowers on your hand,
Red roses and tulips.
The pendant on your neck,
Glittery and shiny.

The tears on your eyes
were visible from a distance.
Before I could ask,
You already left that place!

From that day you were on my head,
You became the 'fairy' in my fairy tale.
I look for you everywhere,
But you disappeared somewhere.

In your memories all I have is -
The pendant on your neck
Yes! you dropped that day,

If it's meant to be us ,
We will meet someday!
In hope of you , all I can do is
write another story for you.

Before the ink runs dry,
Hope to meet you soon!
All my eyes look only for you!

Don't know if this is love.
But there's something,
Beyond words,
maybe a few lines couldn't describe!

I would like to visit,
That Little beautiful coffee shop,
With flowers on my hand,
Red roses and tulips.
MuseumofMax Sep 21
Missing lemon boy again

Turns out he’s not always so sour,
despite his shades.
I can still see his smile
I hope it never fades

With every passing hour
He crosses my mind
I wish I could see him
I miss feeling, intertwined

I wonder if he’s thinking of me?
or maybe
reading my poetry?
Hold me and I will try to absorb your pain
What we have is so difficult to explain
Words said pace through my mind
Voice the warmth I can't leave behind

Unable to cautiously proceed
Losing my judgement with trembling speed
Simple questions ask myself often
Answers have all been forgotten

Is love eyeless?
Is it just me?
Does it always make truth hard to see?
How can love hurt bad when it's supposed to be good?
Don't know
Don't know
Though here before stood

We're broken individuals
Together we make a whole
All the pieces I am missing
Are parts making up your soul
Written 11-12-18
Em MacKenzie Sep 14
My Nan taught me a lot-
but two lessons/phrases were uttered the most.
“Don’t trust men, they only want one thing.”
Problem solved Nanny, I’m as gay as they come
and never gave one man that one thing.

The other thing she’d often tell me was
“We get two gifts in this world; people we love
and sleep to save us from missing them when they’re gone.”
The second lesson I think of often and relate to heavily.
Both were true for my Nan;
she deserved a better life.
Would’ve been Nan’s 85th birthday last week-
If there’s something after all of this I hope she celebrated
with Ma, Uncle Jim, Louise, Dad, Pop, Stevie and Bev.
Love and miss you Nanny.
mikey preston Sep 12
i'm not sure what it is, but tonight i'm thinking about people i used to know.
my childhood best friend, i hear she's awful now but i still love her no matter what, even though i haven't seen her in years. the boy who told me he was in love with me and gave me a crescent-moon thumbnail scar that i still carry today, having not seen him in four years. I look at my left hand and think of our friendship. My grandmother, long past ashes now, with her secret candy drawer, teaching me how to knit and giving me incorrect interpretations of country music. the boy that moved briefly into my drama class, downloaded one of my favourite albums to my phone and took my heart with him when he left. i think of him when i hear those songs, still some of my favourites. ny third grade teacher who told me about idioms and made me write my ks a specific way. my handwriting still looks like your name, sir. the boy who would fix my hair when it got messy, who moved on to cooler friends, and acts like he never touched my face for the sake of it. i still have his number. the girl who i loved books with for years, until we began to read different things and ran out of things to talk about. The boy i dated that sat on the floor of the mall with me and talked to me about all his favourite tv shows and held my head in his lap and never read the book i got him for chirstmas and now only calls me by my last name. the boy who i bought hotwheels in an airport with. i haven't peeled the complementary sticker off my headphones yet, so i haven't stopped thinking of him. on nights like these i miss them. i remember them tenderly. i still feel their phantom arms around me, and it is emptier than a lack of sensation. my heart is a bus stop, more empty for having been full.
my heart is a bus stop, more empty for having been full.
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