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My Dear Poet Aug 2021
from what I can remember
I’ve been missing you
since the day I tried to forget you
My Dear Poet Jul 2021
Returning nests to their trees
Raking the wind for the leaves
You’re too busy to miss me

Creating shadows behind a screen
Stitching seasons at their seams
You’re too busy to miss me

Gathering the stars and their gleam
Scattering fears and their screams
You’re too busy to miss me

Washing winter in it’s stream
Painting the world a brighter green
You’re too busy to miss me

Missing me would mean
taking away your dream
…so please, don’t miss me
Sometimes we walk a different path
YS Jul 2021
I wish I could talk to you and tell you how I am feeling because I know you’d understand. You always did.
And I know you’d help. The best you could.
And it was always enough for me.
But things are different now.
I know that.
So instead I will write you a message that I'll never send.
kassie Apr 2021
ever the shade of blue
you've left us in;
my walls painted purple,
the evidence between my fingernail
and the skin.

i chip off the paint in bed.
high off the fumes of a dark empty room and visions of you.

curtains falling
it's a billowing view
late summer nights bring wind from the sea
remind the lonely how cold it is,
or maybe that night mother earth wanted to remind me
how to breathe,
and how you can feel alive if you let the cold hit your cheek;
it was disconcerting
to say the least.

i was listening from the sheets
between the curtains and underneath

each gust of wind
visions of you
walking in the room

i dont know what i believe in,
but i guess it's not you.
silence on dark roads past winding view
all my men have left me
nothing to do

feeling purple & cleaning my room
I cannot take the pain away
From missing you.
And I cannot interfere
With these recurring memories
The ones I thought I’d buried deep
Inside my boundless ocean.

No matter how many songless walks,
Or bottles of wine,
Poured down my long blue sundresses.
From behind my dark brown curtains,
Beneath my raging waves;
Resurface.

And keep smiling to me.
NightOwls Mar 2021
I see you
leaving tiny bread crumbs.
I'd follow them
and eat them along the way.
However,
I feel as if maybe
you'd poison me.
Or maybe you would lead me
into a deep and empty abyss.
Feeling trapped, I would
never be able to let go.
A prisoner in my head,
but yours too.
Brie Pizzi Mar 2021
Do you think the moon ever gets frustrated repeating the same phases over and over again?

Do you think the moon wishes to stay full?

Do you think on the days the moon is not full, it feels incomplete?

Do you think the moon ever feels lonely, missing the sun?

Do you think the moon stares at its reflection, criticizing every crater?

I wonder if the moon knows how beautiful it is.
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