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Sam S 6d
We are only human..
messy, miraculous,
wired for touch and tenderness.

The science tells us:
we live longer
when we’re loved well.
Our bodies calm
in the presence of another.
The heart slows,
the breath deepens,
our minds soften
when someone truly sees us.

We are not made to do this alone.

And yet…

How ironic,
to hold this truth,
despite always knowing
how to be alone.

To wake alone,
and not ache.
To eat in silence,
and feel nourished.
To soothe yourself,
hold your own storms,
speak kindly into your own reflection.

What a strange kind of wholeness:
wired for others,
yet utterly at peace
in your own company.
Lakz Poetry May 23
Love a feeling
with different shades
Selfless Love
Obsessive Love
Romantic love
Friendship
Self Love
Playful Love

Each shades got
different love language
Some could make you feel
treasured, valued, loved and motivated
while others could make you feel
down, hurt, worthless and destroyed

Fun part is
Everything is LOVE!
Love is life
Trinkets Jan 25
a solid basis of conflict
between generations
is the blame game thinking
“if only, then”
meant only to distract
from the hopelessness of knowing
“not now either”
NaNi Jan 23
Egypt,
One day you're going to grow up and I’m going to tell you the most important love that exists in my life and it begins with you

I always knew I wanted you
But I didn’t know how much until I had you
I wasn’t planning for you but I wasn’t doing anything to prevent the chance of you
It was almost like my heart knew I needed something , a blessing that would make me cry out to God
A blessing that The world may have thought i wasn’t ready for
Even with fear in my heart knowing I could fail
I wasn’t afraid of this blessing
After hearing your heartbeat, over and over
I knew who you were
You were mine and I was finally going to have you
Even if I had to do it over again i would still choose you
Someone i never knew i needed and someone I will infinitely love & protect

All ways, always
You
on a stage, guitars strumming a tune that
can only be hummed, for it has no verses
the songwriters, their tongues entwined,
joined as one, they can speak no words

but the crowd roars its favor,, sheds its de light, stomping and whooping it up, making
all the necessary noises, of two tongues, yes’m, entwining

kinda like a kissing, a little of hissing too,,
got its own rhythm, even the noises rhyming,
a rock n roll ballad with country western
mixed in, some say it sounds like Joan Baez
singing **** Jagger, or an Avett Brothers
serenade

words need tongues for formaytion,
tongues needed to speak, but absent
a common language,tongues do what
tongues do best,
intertwining, combining, licking,
making love noises that requires
two to be
heard
fulfilling
taste of two
blending
and we
though
silent
pronounce
ourselves
as one,
the loveliest
unspoken
vocabulary
Jeremy Betts Jun 2024
I hate me
You hate me
I hate the fact
That's the only
Place where we
Can find honesty

©2024
My Dear Poet Jun 2024
I only weep
when my tears say so

I only bleed
when my heart says “flow”

I only think
when my mind says “know”

I only die
when my life says “go”.
The irony of free will
.
.
.
Hello ex-Hubby,
I meant the handsome dystopian boy,
currently, I'm writing you the sin
I remembered that craved the most,
when I dared to
penetrate my colorful virtue spot again.
to ride the last whole night car with you
in a hurry,
and forget about the evil you,
hating women, dressed in your dark flurry.
I embraced those tiny white palms in my head.
when they refused to touch me back and ride ahead.
instead of losing interest
and forget about reverence you physically,
I kept my fingers crossed secretly,
under the car seat,
next to the prestigious scent of yours.
Your North African amber eyes
that refused to match mine,
to get lost between their depressed universes and shine.
I prayed along this magnificent time,
to God so he could with his 99 mercies
make you fully mine.
The lava that burst divinely
out of your Tunisian delicate betrayed my senses
and lit the full hungriness towards your beguilement.
I encouraged my half stability
to make it through
a little bit far from you,
my hallowed brew
with every single meter that we've passed
I fluctuate amid the idea of capturing you devilishly or sacredly, between making some blood contracts with the devil itself,
or donate as much money as I could,
for the sake of being together,
burring ourselves on an old bookshelf.
trichotillomania; the colorless ferocious ogre,
that used to assault my bright aesthetic soul,
as a tight fatal choker
to remind it chastely,
of the imperfection portrait of mine.
and pursue its pride with a fiery scourge,
matted with brine
when I started to rise my jaded fingers
to covet those golden cheeks.
I failed!
the deficiency is capturing me
The keloid I hated the most
as I carry my dramatic havoc away,
a little bit away,
from your inner fray
pathetically, I turned my whole feelings
against my well ignoring the idea of
love Subliminal and its spell
facing the windscreen
that harshly afford me a great frustration
trying to cover my hope with trash sack and provocation.
I failed,
escaping the life blackmail,
convincing me to practically disbelief on you.
But I kept myself as holy as I dared to.
despite of my Viscera's beating,
crumbling and shrinking.
I kept my grin harmfully, blinking.
under your realm seeking for a light of your anger that will
console me again. and bring me home.
Happy Birthday!
.
.
.
Garrett Johnson Sep 2021
Hmm and yeah.

False complaint.
****** guitar.
Never where you ought to be.
Next to me & ice.
Melting street.
Frighting.
Temporal, weekend.
Day of the week and cry.
A languid joy.
& it's only, getting.
Better.

Garrett Johnson.
So much for the Creek.
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