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Ezzah Saleem Dec 2017
My eyes are my messengers,
For they speak my words.

They hide dark secrets in them too,
For they don’t trust anyone.

They are deeper than the sea,
They are the mirror of my soul.

My eyes are my messengers,
They are the doorway to my heart.

When my sadness creeps over,
They cry a river.

They help me count stars,
They help me fly oceans.

My eyes are the best part of me
Not because how they look but because how they see
'They are the mirror of my soul' and 'they are the doorway to my heart' are the lines that are made by me from a quote I loved. I did not know it was a quote as before my mom told me the same things in a different language. "Not because how they look but because how they see" was a quote too that i really liked and so i decided to put it in there as it was very true. Hope you like it!
Meghan Nov 2017
Our memories are like shells
that form
constellations
in the
cold
cold
sand
The friction of such can cause
the same sound
of your
forgotten
giggle
Our oceans,
aligned with pink skies,
clouded our minds
as we
isolate
reality
You are one of the most
precious ornament
I've ever collected
within my
island
Only if high waters doesn't shove little things
Only if sails are stable in every swift
Only if mermaids are forever singing
Only if we learned how to keep
I miss us...
YH Sep 2017
Hear the oceans
that cry
swathed in morose.
See the trees
that wilt
adorned with dying figures.
Feel the incoming downfall
that earth
is warning us.

It is time
to take
vital awareness.

Our home is decaying.

— Y.H.

earth's lament,
gentle fervor.
as we are the own cause of the epidemic.

(c) Y.H.
xmelancholix Sep 2017
the easy way out was always the thing i love for all the wrong reasons. don't you know you should never ride the wave? you end up being bruised and pulled back to the tide to be bruised again. Kiss the cheek that isn't salty to avoid how deep this oceanic void goes. The point is I've always been a pale yellow alone
091417
A Sep 2017
I never told you I would leave.
Us;
In an airplane over Russia;
Our feet slipping into skates too small;
Sipping a distinctive type of chai.
You know me too familiar.
When I shiver, so do you.
We speak in our own language,
One in which the light bends
From your sapphire eyes;
One in which we are twins.
We burn together.

in summer.
To be free.

<I love you in every transatlantic mile.>
ahh
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