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Annie Aug 2018
I devote the nakedness
All to you
All for you

The longing of the dark nights
Craving
Thinking of you

Rattling leaves
So quiet
Yet impatient

Asking the silence
Are you for me?
Like I am for you
Speak Slowly Aug 2018
sleepless nights, man these emotions ain't making me feel right.
one day I could be feeling my best, but the next minute I could be a mess.
Feeling ecstatic one minute and then fall into another rut the next, the cycle is infinite.
When was the last memory of a sweet dream? These few days I've awakened only to be covered in sweat.
Vivid dreams that torture me in my sleep and life that stresses me in my wake. My morale and soul feel weak, just how much more can I take?
I just need a break, time to myself and more time to write.
Maybe take a trip, run my fingers over every spine on a bookshelf and remind myself that I'll be alright.
-SS
Day 23
Hopeless Outlet Aug 2018
Lay awake and sing along to the songs you like to sing
Hit repeat

Feel a sting, unexpectedly
Which it makes you think
about how such a beautiful thing
fell and crumbled at your feet

Looking in a mirror
I can only blame the one looking back at me
I need to sleep, I need to sleep
But Im too scared
to dream
M Aug 2018
I wait for
the golden hour to strike
and flood my room
with gilded lethargic light
but it does not come

I wait for
the stark bright white
of the many-faced moon
to fill
the onyx heavy night
but it does not come

I wait for
the sky to be set alight
by the glittered stars
falling and stationary alike
but it does not come

It's been so long

I wait
Cné Aug 2018
The evening's still and quiet
and the katydids abound.
The flag is hanging listlessly
as I listen to their sound.

Desultory the summer air,
as though the world awaits,
"Something evil this way comes."
the foe is at the gates.

A feeling of impending doom
accompanies the air.
Nothing moves.
A stifling presence hovers over there.

Like a blanket, smothering
t'is much too hard to breathe.
And yet, my arms are paralyzed
and sword, I can't unsheathe.

I watch as shadows gather
in miasma up the street.
A harbinger of evil
with an odor, sickly sweet.

I feel it getting nearer
and my heart beats fast with fright.
What imagination ...
on a stifling summer night.
It’s the dog days of summer!
M Aug 2018
have you ever wondered,
that the person you love the most
can actually hurt you more
than you've ever been hurt before?

because i didn't know that,
until i'm experiencing it myself.
i can tell you,
i really does... hurt.
anna Aug 2018
i walk around my kitchen
at half past one in the morning
sipping on water in silence
as my parents are sound asleep.
why am i not sleeping, too?
i’m restless,
i can’t bring myself to settle down.
maybe i’m anticipating your call,
which will never come
or your knock at my door,
which will never happen,
and yet i keep myself awake
hoping you will be the first to say
i’m sorry
a.m.
fatima Jul 2018
My nights are cold and sad as I sip a black pitched coffee that I am holding in my hands. The slumber of sadness still grows in my heart while I let myself succumb in a little blanket with dusty furs beneath. The sadness becomes a growing pain until it become a ghostly pain that lives inside every night with a growl of wildness that seems so silent yet so deadly. All of the stars, no, the universe saw the pain that seems like a winter sadness that just grow everyday as I try to live my life looking for the brightness of a star and a comfort of a tree that seems worn out at times.

         But my nights that are full of sorrows seems alive yet there’s a growing tree that I saw every night as I look upon the twinkling stars. The tree seems alive but I ponder every night in my cracked window ‘Does the tree grows in night full of sadness?’. That place seems questionable to me because when I looked upon my window it can’t be seen easily yet it fills me up at some point. Every night as I look through my window I realized that the tree was just there at the beginning or maybe even before my own beginning. Maybe I failed to notice the wonder of it every night so I tried to peek on it. As I peek on it, I become scared thinking that there will be wildness that I can’t take so I decided to just don’t look at it again.

         Looking back, I brushed it off. The tree was just there as I grow with my endless sadness. My sadness becomes numb and my black pitched coffee becomes monotonous. As the night fades, I can feel the numbness in my body and the coldness of my heart. The shining sun seems a striking light to me that I can’t take that makes me feel burned and at some point, I also thought that it would turn me into ashes. Strangely as I grow up and I tend to be number, I remembered the tree that I looked upon in the midst of my growing sadness. I strangely go the tree that makes me feel scared before. The tree made me feel at home, a strange feeling that someone like me can’t feel in spite of all fake happiness that I display in the warm sunshine up until to the lavenders and pinks of sunset.

        Every night, I always went to that spot, that tree that made me feel scared before. Even in the sunshine I always look upon the tree and it makes me feel at ease. Despite the scorching heat of sun, I always felt the freshness of spring and the bloom of flowers with a beautiful melody of birds. Even in the sadness of nights, I can feel the beauty and mystery of the moon with the stars that looks painted in the night sky. Everything seems beautiful, I guess. Also, my heart grows there with my numbness fading away.

         Looking back at everything that I felt, those judgements are fallacy of my scared heart that is afraid to grow in the light. A child that thinks everything can be handled on its own but it seems like that child is fragile human being after all. Also, despite the happiness that I felt in that place I also want to make that place more beautiful. Maybe the word beautiful is a given statement in that place but still, I want to make that place feel the comfort that it gives to me.

       Right now, that spot seems mesmerizing in my eyes and I hope in the following days, months, and years that spot will always felt like home. A home that I can lean on in the bad days and I can be happy with in my happiest days.
you felt like home, please be happy. i cherish you.

not a poem but a short story for someone who is dearly to me
Kmary Jul 2018
On nights like this
we tell our stories,
and turn up the volume on all
our deepest thoughts

I tell you my secrets
and you show me your paper-napkin wishes
I say I love you
and you let your body speak on your behalf

Tonight our smiles
echo through every room,
as we laugh in unison
till the morning is jealous
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