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photovoltaic Dec 2020
Ink
Covering the scars splayed across your fingers,
Reminder, of names, sketches, all written down
Just as permanent as the wounds they cover
The only difference is that they're a little bit prettier
what kind of scars are you trying to cover? or do you show them to the world, not caring who sees?
Rollercoaster Nov 2020
The layers of skin and sheaths
To cover what lies within.
A heart of stone
and a core of darkness
exists dipped in misanthropy.
Whilst the armor moves,
darkness sprinkles down.
It leaves a trail of iniquity
as it goes by on its way
To the permanent sleep of death.
Zack Ripley Oct 2020
Physical death is permanent.
But emotional death,
(numbness, "feeling dead inside)
Is a starfish.
It can grow back
through a process called support
People say we can’t choose who visits us, but it’s our choice whom we will let in. But in my case I have kept my heart open for everyone who barge on my door and knock. I stayed at my place not chasing anyone but because I hoped to be searched, I wanted to be found and the day you came into my life, I welcomed you with open arms because that’s what home should be - to be someone’s shelter and comfort amid the storm.

I remember I asked you about your past relationship and you told me it was the worst. You caught her with another guy and you didn’t make any fuss about it, you were blaming yourself that time and that day I promised I won’t hurt you, that I’ll stay beside you no matter how hard it gets the situation, but deep inside, I wanted to be your permanent address; no matter where you go, I knew you would come back to me because there’s no place like home. I wanted to be your peace where you could find the silence you need and your favorite spot overlooking the city where we could slowly dance the night away; not just a place you could go to because you don’t have anywhere else to stay. I wanted to be the calm in your raging sea, the music that drives you into heaven, and the warmth that you crave for colder days; not just a passerby who would rest on my arms for a while but walk out right away and desert the things we could have been.

I welcomed you with open arms because that’s what home should be -to be someone’s shelter and comfort amid the storm. But I left the door open and decided to leave, because you had the chance to do so.
Giovanna Aug 2020
An Invisible permanent scar,
will hitch my wagon to the star.
Some say no time to heal
I say I won't let it make me it's meal.
Some say you need a little brightness.
I say some things are better timeless.
Don't hold on to your past. Also don't forget it completely. Use it as a fuel to launch yourself to better things in life
Rossyam Hadi Jul 2020
We get on the ride
without any maps
or compass to guide us,
we create our own ways
and start the journey.

It could be dangerous,
but I feel safe
sitting beside you
as you take the wheel
and bring us
to somewhere new.

We will watch
every sunrise and sunset
while I rest my head
on your shoulder
and be your permanent passenger.

I want to see
the world with you,
we can go places
that we have never been,
seeing seven wonders,
exploring exotic and historical cities,
capturing priceless moments.

After the long trip,
I will always come back
to your arms,
my comfort place
and waking up
to your face,
my favourite morning view.
#PermanentPassenger🗺 is about when found the one that you can do everything together with - you can travel the world together and at the same they are the person that will be waiting for you at home.
The Foodie One Apr 2020
Leaving you
was
heart-breaking,
soul-breaking -
Everything-breaking.

But in the end,
I’m happy
I got to love you;

You got it, too:
to love somebody -
doesn’t fade from view.
© 25/03/20

Remembering old grief.
Aneesh H Jan 2020
You are not what you have been, or are
You are what I have remembered you as-
A carefully curated assortment of
memories
Preserved in my very own imagination
Kept alive within myself
Nourished by a soulful of emotions
Nothing in this world is constant, ever. Our bodies, mind...nothing. Our associations, relations with family members, friends and others are also not constant. Like a wave it the intensity, meaning and purpose rises and falls.

This poem is not attributed to a specific person, or memory. 'Thee' is a generic pronoun that I have chosen to allude to everyone who has had a contact with me, at some point of time or the other.

In short, nothing is permament, except every memory solemn or trivial.
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