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It rain drops,
little stream flows through -
wordless tune but endless rhythm --
it reminds a long before--
decays of a rolling stone,
still glistened--
Love how I feel!

@Musfiq us shaleheen
Love on time and after so long time...
I had ceased your eyes
Locked it into my heart
And opened the Lock,
In a dancing day of May
It sang a song of Love

And snapped again into,
A silent day of dark
After a long dry dark day,
grew as a foot print of Fossil
And I find in a song of sad -

@Musfiq us shaleheen
A sad love poem ...
Dustin Lanham Jun 2014
The strands of smoke that pour from her lips
Blend with an atmosphere dimly lit;
The sight of the scene would make a man bewitched,
For it were as if her beauty were some sort of trick.

Her aura of importance, vanity, and fashion
Are comparable to an openly adored fascism.

She regards the rules as much as possible
To make herself look as good as a model.

Spending hours at a time to look her best,
She relieves the stress with cigarettes.
There's hope that they will make her forget
All of the mistakes and all of the regrets.

Though most of her relationships were abusive
None of them yet have brought her story to conclusion
Now she's hiding all of her problems as if they're delusions
Behind smoke and mirrors--the perfect illusion.
aetherx Jun 2014
parched browning book on the highest shelf of a vintage book store
someone would pick it up eventually, drawn to its unique charm.
an uncharted best-seller with layers of dust as its cover art.

ah, the smell of books

isn't it strange that the smell makes you nostalgic, giving you a flashback of a past you've never experienced?



that record playing on the vinyl that everyone nods their heads to,
with wine in their hands
till the same question wanders the whole room;
"what's the title of this jazzy anthem?"



walking in the midst of echoing chirps in the timber land
dead leaves crunch beneath my feet
I paused, considering whether I should perch myself on the Earth in the middle of nowhere
I did so, as the leaves nestled me
I looked around at the ochre and the mahogany of the dead leaves,
laying on the face of the ground, defeated, after a hard life
I let out a sigh and sympathised

Nature was comforting me and I sat there, embracing comfort, feeling it after a long time

Nature was my *soul mate
[an ode to a friend]
lxs Jun 2014
it’s days like this
where i become nostalgic
for the things that were never
mine in the first place
-lxs
Emm Mar 2017
Opened a piece of memory,
found lost self
Caught a glimpse of her,
is she ever to return ... ?

This world feels cold dark and lonely now
Little miss sunshine, come back here and lighten me up...
Are you still there sometimes?
It feels surreal that once you were real
Where did you go, when did you leave...?
Do I like my current? ...
What is best, what was done?

Self doubt is creativity's sworn nemesis

It all feels blue and cold now, ...

So blue and lost, ...
Deep deep down in like the darkest of the sea
...


I caught a glimpse of you,
and I like you

Will you ever come back?
Are you better than me...?
Were you better than me ... ...?


Time, you do tell,
you and your playful tricks on me...
Morgan Winters Jun 2014
And I'm stuck.
I'm stuck on the freckles painted on your skin.
I'm stuck on your gentle carresses of your soft but rough hands, tracing endlessly pointless patterns on my back.
I'm stuck on your raspy voice after you've been laying with me for a while and are beginning to fall sleepy.
But I'm also stuck on the weeks of silence.
I'm stuck on the broken promises.
I'm stuck on the false hope.
I'm stuck on how one year ago, or even five months, you said you loved me to no end.
You said you'd never leave again.
It ended.
You left.
And I'm stuck.
"I think once you've thought about how a person sleeps, how they'd feel pressed up against your back, or your head on their chest, how compatible your bodies would be in the same space of a bed — once you've thought about that, you're ******."
seasonalskins Jun 2014
you never really hated the memories,
only who you shared them with
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