Kylie Oct 2018
The memories of us flow like water through my mind
I used to know exactly how to swim around them
Make them fall into the river,and swim right through them

It wasn’t until you asked why i love to swim
That i realized swimming could be so dangerous
My words felt shallow under your devastating gaze
And they falter,crumbled. Until you drown me

Now i’m drained and reaching for your love
Grasping for air that you don’t want to share
You can’t write about something you can’t feel
And now i can’t feel anything
josh wilbanks Sep 2018
Time is but a myth
A thought begins to drift
The past I do miss
Though it won't exist again
It still gets under my skin
Reminding me of
The taste of your lips
Elyciren Dec 2017
Morning always seems to come so soon
I close my eyes pretending I am still with you.
josh wilbanks Apr 2017
I'd never seen the sky
Cause i'd never looked up
'Till a pretty little bird
Called to me and
Opend my eyes to the blue
The clouds and the breeze
She showed me the sky
And let me love
Then flew away
To a place i could never touch
Alison Shulman Mar 2016
lately I’ve been feeling like I live on another plane of existence. I have left my body and I’m watching over myself as I fail at being a functioning person. I take four hour naps every day and don’t wake up until noon and I’m left up at night screaming into the void that I exist because as much as I know that I am alive I don’t feel like I’m existing. or maybe I just don’t want to exist. maybe I’m tired of these day to day tribulations that come with being an adult, maybe I want to exist as a child forever when everything is bright and new and nothing hurts except bruised elbows and scraped knees. maybe I’m being nostalgic for a place that I don’t even know exists. maybe I lost my innocence too early to know what being a child feels like. maybe I lost myself too early to know what being a person feels like.
Andractive Jun 2015
I want this to be the last letter I ever write you my lover
I'm tired
I've written about a dozen letters to the moon complaining of all
these chest pains and honestly it's getting ridiculous no one reads
them,  they just sit here accumulating evidence of a romance so
twisted the one lover can't even spell the others name with out
quivering with a certain uncertainty
These letters dont  mean a thing
I don't know why I keep writing them,  they're strange and unintelligent things
And I'll be ****** if the last thing I ever do is write about a man
who is my anchor , keeping me anchored which is ironically insane
considering an anchor is the very thing that sinks you down to the
very bottom
I'm very confused and we're very complicated
I can hardly decipher which one of us is the ship and which the anchor

I realize that I'm not as kind and innocent as I'd like to think I am
I've done ****** things just as you my king
And it's a shame I like to pretend otherwise
But not as shameful as being unable to tell whether I'm the hero or
the villain in our situation , and that's just another unpleasant
thing about us I'm never writing about again.
abby jordan Mar 2015
i simply cannot bear the thought
that soon
sooner than i least expected
all these beautiful times
loud, teary eyed, clutching our ribs kind of laughs
smiles that are impossible to contain
bursting through our lips
sending an explosive bomb of pure happiness inside of us
happy and sad tears
rolling down our face
both kinds exquisite in my eyes
surrounded with beautiful, intricate souls
as the time passes by
without a single thought in our little mind
that this day
this time
these almost microscopic like moments and time fragments
will soon be gone
and never to return.
all of these stunningly amazing feelings
can happen once again
and many, many more times again
but we cannot
these precious moments
not in the way
it happened as a first
which deeply saddens me.

so many great memories this school year that i want to relive over and over again
We spent our days
sleeping in the summers haze
and years being together.

No shoes, no worry
and no need to hurry.
The time was on our side.

In the bright morning sun,
through sprinklers we'd run
and eat honeydew in the shade.

But now in fruitless meadows we cry,
fearing that those lovely memories die,
but you and I shall remain alive.
Obviously I wasn't alive in 1975, but whatever...

— The End —