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Nirvana Mar 2016
walking down the memory lane
I revived my eternal pain
caught you giving her stare
but you pleaded me to have your share

oh dear me
when you'll be free
every time I visit the memory lane
I find you brewing the same pain

I think its me
who made the history
and you're just
reliving my past!

you're not the one to blame
for my heart that's burning in flame
because of the mistake I made in past
till my last breathe I feel it will last.

let it last however long;
it will and let it come along
coz its the only mistake
for which I'll put my all at stake    

though it hurts to see you in pain
dear me, I'll keep visiting my memory lane
coz as you do
so I love her too!
its the only place
where this soul gets solace!
P.S.- is it compulsory to break down in this last sentence.
Yes I still Love You Madly...
river Mar 2016
sometimes i feel like i'm not alive
my breath gets caught in my lungs
and i'm thinking too much about
all the things i wanna forget
my hands start to shake and
all i know is i want this feeling
to go away
Elle W Feb 2016
I like the way freshly cut grass on a warm Saturday afternoon smells, whilst I sit in the sun and sip on coffee, breathing in the fresh air.
It is almost like being reborn and getting to experience your senses for the first time again.
I like the look of the smoke that is given off by lit incense as it burns down.
The beautiful ripple effect, then flowing off freely into the room, relaxes me.  
When I close my eyes and breathe it in, it reminds me of sitting in front of a fire place, with my gaze set on the flames;
But, more than anything in this world, I like the feel of his presence.
He is nostalgic.
Bringing me thoughts of comfort.
He is both the smell of freshly cut grass on a Saturday afternoon and the sight of rippling smoke emitted by incense.
He is my nostalgia.
Daniela Amor Feb 2016
A wound is tender,
in our hearts, yonder.
Wishing I have magic,
to erase you-- you're nostalgic.
This poem is about forgetting what was done in the past. However, we can't easily forget things, it takes time.
Heartbreak Motel Feb 2016
On my bed, i eat small sugar hearts.
The window is opened, i can feel the wind blows in my back.
It's soft and relaxing.

Sat on my bed, i eat small sugar hearts
Small white heart, small pink heart.
I am in my underwears, i feel the heat of the sun on my body.

Laying on my bed, i eat small sugar hearts.
Old music play on my record.
The wind makes float my curtain above me.
It almost feel like summer time.

I eat small sugar hearts.
Small sugar hearts, pink as your lips, white as my soul.

I'm nostalgic of you.
O.P
josh wilbanks Jan 2016
At 2 a.m. on a warm summers night, the thought of you still lingers in my head. The smell of that musky roof top brings back more than just memories. It's been years since the last time we've spoke yet i can't help but feel as if i still love you. You were my first. Somewhere, sometime, you'll see these skies and think of me. I'll be sitting here, thinking of you. Reminiscing under lonely stars.
For my friend, my hero, and my past. I will never forget your name.
Adellebee Jan 2016
I light my smoke, as it all comes back to me
My ex was here, right there, beside me
Beers and red wine, will see

Cigarette time, passed bed time
We will see

He left

Some sense of wonder
Some sense of, if and when
He will ever ponder,
The fact,
That we belong

Because he knew my favourite song
And because we can tolerate us

Learn how to grow and uh
We found common ground
Between us
And how
We always seem to find
A little love between us
love is a fickle beast
Cody Haag Dec 2015
Change tonight,
To ensure safe flight;
Safe movement from one phase,
Safe travel to the next place.

My mind morphs often,
A single reason remains unpinned.
Whether it's to survive more nights,
Or the worst of fights.

I change to survive,
To essentially revive,
Myself, to train
The way my mind handles pain.

I change, it's a sad fact,
But we're all born upon this pact;
That we'll be forced to change,
In little ways to keep survival in range.

I weep for the boy who is dead,
Now, all of this unknown from his head,
Wow, if I only I could envision,
A life without this derision.

The boy who lacked it is
Gone from the earth;
And this shell was
Birthed.

To replace something that was pure,
Because the boy could take no more.
Kagey Sage Nov 2015
What do all these unread books mean,
a life that must move, but intends to someday have
more time to sit and ponder?
Or am I slothful from the smudged screen gleam?
Endless tool possibilities, you've become my lvl. 70 distraction
No capture, no defeating
just the monster in the cave
without an escape rope, or even matches
Go so crazy
I wanna light my shirt on fire in protest
and forget to take it off first
I wish for old days of street loitering gossip, and busking
How'd we lose it so fast?
You can't even find the picnic spot without a digital pamphlet
so excuse me as I lament
the dying days
I hardly lived
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