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Juliet 6d
To all the laughters that we shared,
Smiles that we tried so hard to keep,
Mean things that we blurt out that we did and didn't mean,
Tears that we wish never existed,
Fights that we fought,
Hearts that we've hurt,
Stories that we lived together,
And ties that we thought would bind us forever...

I'm sorry.
You will be missed,
But that's all where you'll be.
The past that I don't even want to see.

To all the forced laughters that we've had,
Conversations and hang out sessions that feel like an obligation,
Beliefs and ideals that we no longer share,
Inside jokes that start to feel old,
Priorities that we no longer understand,
And plans we no longer want to do,

Thank you.
For making me understand,
That some friendships doesn't always last.

My world has gotten bigger,
And so as yours.
I've met people whom I have connected better,
And so as you.
I've learned to laugh louder,
Cry harder,
Smile wider,
Speak wiser,
And act in foolish manner.
So have you.

So here's to you:
To the acceptance that we would no longer be friends like we used to,
To the curiosity that will always linger,
Wondering about what-ifs and what-could-have-beens,
To embracing the fact that we were always bound to end from the very beginning,
To waving goodbye to the only kind of friendship I knew growing up,
And to loving the growth,
That we both had,
As we fall apart.
Have you ever outgrown any of your friends, for sole reason of growing up? Because I have. I went to a different city for college, and understood what friendship really is to me. It's supposed to be easy. Not scared. Not awkward. Not pretentious. And most certainly not judging and jealous.

But regardless of everything else, I've learned to thank that difficult friendship for it was all I had back then.
Sabika H May 10
You have overstayed your welcome,
Oh entity of past lives not lived.
Your stench of decay still lingers
And seeps from my fingers.

Abandon me old skin,
You have become nothing but the skeleton of past sins
Haunting me when I am most vulnerable.
I’ve befriended an enemy and
In turn, I have become intolerable.

Yes, I have been the oppressor.
I’ve whispered, I’ve swayed, I’ve lusted, I’ve preyed,
And although I have one foot out of the door,
Old friends whisper to me,
“Come on, how much can it really hurt
If you did it once more?”
rig Apr 24

q birthday ‘luck’ w/ xv mgs of pj zen:


home – a house, really.
good weather. old bed.
sugar intervals,
paramore feelings.
one more special day... right?


right… my
kid was
born when
she was
my age
now – and
laugh when
i don’t
know stuff


when will you find a girl, they say, get married, they say.
[cut to a vase] i work part-time. i wear overalls.
(it's not my birthday)
Raven Feels Apr 19
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, what if I am a runaway not willing to remember???:]

possibility on a flying swing

maybe the moods maybe the winds

on my mind scarred on miles so pure so delicate

crumbling with the soon to forget forever drowned

don't know how far that red prison would grant me a benefit

lions scratching the waves of my pride

miss thirteen on lights of glory

fading on forest thorns and wilds before me

not even sure if you and me whispered in that stupid dark seen

                                                          ­                               ------ravenfeels
On and off, on and off
It lets out a dusty cough
Old and rusted
Been long since it was dusted
Working all night
It produces light
You're using it to its delight
You used to type on that light box
It's been long since you used him
Yet he refuses to grow dim
It sparks in delight
It won’t give up to this new fight
It shines bright tonight
Femi Apr 18
Versions of me skip tracks like a scratched cd...
Who am? Who do I wanna be?
Memories of myself flash forward as I push them way back...
Youngest person ever; at risk for heart attack.
Cardiac arrest, organs seldom rest.
If God grants me tomorrow,
I will try my best.
it is cold again
drizzling as he enters his building
clutching the 2 bags of groceries
the 3 year old stares from the upstairs
apartment window
wondering why the old man doesn't
play with him anymore
he re-heats and finishes off the coffee
from last night
throws a tv dinner in the microwave
and watches highlights of the games on youtube
since they dropped the local sports from Sling
he checks his bank balance again online
listens to his favorite ghost stories podcast
then wonders why he hasn't planned for
his burial
or cremation
cheaper to dump my ashes in the Atlantic
he decides
he ponders many things but mainly what the future holds for his kids
he does this almost every night
can't understand why they took the vaccine against his pleas...
to get along? Make things easier? Have that card for the cruises?
1 A.M. and a few hits to help him sleep
a final ****
but will hold off the flush until morning
so as to not wake the older woman upstairs
the ghosts are getting closer these days
they scare the **** out of the neighbor's cat
when he comes to visit
he's off the spirit box since October
when they scared the **** out of him
when he saw one go by and call his name
they know it's coming soon
he just wishes they'd let him leave quietly
feeling old
Bobby Dodds Apr 15
All things ancient are once born young.
All things secret are shared by tongue.
All things hatred are worn with love.
All things whispered are sung by doves.
All things stone always come undone.
the inspiration for this poem primarily came from the thought i had, that all things like ancient or old or archaic were once young, smart words out of the mouths of the loud. brand new and original, and here we are, writing about them, like they're old news or yesterdays column.

Long lost road
To the old fire station
With a beautiful archway
The fire engines
In bright red
Never knew rest
A drill or two, a day
Fitness parade
For all, to learn to save
No sirens
No calls to attend
The bells ring no more
Snorkels saving lives
Salvaged many a blaze
All gone
Peacefully it retires
Amidst old walls
Inspired by a photo
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