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Buddy T 5d
you’re every melody and every song
you’re the pounding in my head all night long
pounding, pounding all night long
bleary eyes and heavy cheeks
you’re the sore in my bones that make them meek
and every other week
another year come and gone, so long

the ringing in my ears
the salt in my tears,
tongue long against my face
catching them before they slip away
another race
down the roadway
to your doorframe
come 2nd place
but who’s to say
i kiss you anyway
2020 is almost over
Apollo Nov 16
My mind is wrapped around you
in the way I wish my arms were
I wish my lips were pressed against the scar
on the bridge of your nose
in the way my heart is pressed against
the inside of my chest
I want to feel your hair between my fingers
to feel your teeth set against my skin
God only knows that your hands
are woven through the bone cage of my ribs
and your teeth cut deep into the flesh of my soul
eons ago
Apollo Nov 12
I’ve developed a taste
for dark chocolate
for cherries and blood oranges
Things I never imagined I would crave
in the same way
I long for you
agatha Sep 30
by now my cup would have been filled
with the grace you sing to my name
and how you string sentences together;
letter by letter, thought by thought.

tell me, what does your mind sing
whenever we read the same page of poetry
or listen to the same songs over and over
that they seem to be a dull buzz

a static, a background noise
a façade for something,

                   (dare i say a tryst?)

or would fate call that too early?

but by now, i'd listen to you
speaking my name like a prayer.
maybe for once
i will believe in religion

as long as you're the one

Two a.m. and it hits me like a freight train -
The realisation that I'm never letting go,
You're too familiar, too engrained in brain,
My highest high and my lowest low.

In every whisper, gasp, and sigh,
You're boiling in my blood,
Far away and yet close by,
My senses drown in your flood.
My avalanche, my hurricane,
my natural disaster,
My shelter from the pelting rain,
Machine-gun pulse racing faster.

A spectre, haunting, never gone,
Your imprint ever by my side,
Knight and bishop to my pawn,
Commandment that a must abide.

And every new experience,
Every wayward thought –
Shadowed by the remembrance –
Fights what can't be fought.
Each new one I compare to yours,
Forever my default script.
A room without windows or doors,
This heartache is my crypt.

You never knew and never will,
Just how deep I buried
The memory I couldn't ****,
In my soul seared and carried.
A keepsake, invisible brand,
Bittersweet reminder
Of doomed castles in the sand,
Love poems in a tear-streaked binder.
(for S.)
Haley Protega Aug 27
The clouds over Antwerp (so far from home)
Caress the cathedral, barely brush the dome.
The sun is mild, and the wind soft,
Yet darker, boiling things come aloft.

Tendrils of remembrance, making me a liar –
I said I'd extinguish that treacherous fire.
A torch that shouldn't be, let alone be carried,
What should stay hidden, locked, and buried.
A flashback unbidden - your easy laughter -
There is no hope, not in the After.

The sky seems paper-thin, a fake screen of blue,
Threatening to peel back, revealing only you;
The cottony clouds, an illusion that will melt,
Spilling the intensity of all that I felt;
Still feel (oh god), and I can't disperse,
You are woven in the fabric of my universe.

I wonder if you're gazing, taking in the stars,
Or dark forests whose trees seem to me like bars;
A prison: I'm trapped, without being held,
My heart saw yours and decided to weld
Us together, but the alloy didn't match –
My forever, your bad batch.
Bleeding, I hold on to the damaged patch,
Too stupid to let go, too stupid to detach.

My life stands still, as chances pass through,
And all I see, all, is that they're not you.


There's fog now, heavy like lead -
I wonder if the veil seeped straight from my head;
Shrouding the world in a numb ache,
Distracting my thoughts, for sanity's sake.

And your presence pulses, a soft thrum of power,
Pitter-patter of rain, a ghost of a shower.
Just like a ghost, you're gone, but you're here,
Too far to touch, but to forget - too near.
(for S.)
Haley Protega Aug 27
The petal on the cherry tree

gently whispers: "Let it be.

Don't think back, don't reminisce."

Yet you I cannot help but miss.

It's been too long, if truth be told;

my scarlet flames should have run cold –

but they burn bright as the desert sun,

a million candles joined in one.

You're the one that got away.

Only memories decide to stay,

to remind me of your eyes,

your smile, your not-goodbyes.

Are you safe? Are you well?

That's all I wish to know;

You haunt me – an angel of hell,

a rose-arrow in Cupid's bow.

I have no right, and never did.

Still, my thoughts keep wandering,

Pandora's box without the lid,

a kingdom lost without a king.

Spare me a thought, just now and then:

flicker me to life, for old time's sake,

My butterfly un-caught, remind me of when

I dared to dream of you, wide awake.

(for S.)
Haley Protega Aug 27
What else is there left to say?

I wish there were something new;

Some novel, sweeter way,

To tell you all you know is true.

This one-sided, stupid dream

Isn't something you can mend;

I'll learn in time, to make it seem

That I'm okay, just as your friend.

I can't promise to be well,

Only that I will try

To get up from where I fell,

And do my best not to cry.

You don't deserve this burden,

The mess I dragged you in,

My battles, I am certain,

aren't yours to win.

I only hope you never learn

The extent of this pain

Despite the hell in which I burn,

I wish you only soothing rain...

(for S.)
Haley Protega Aug 27
Softly. Silently. Slowly.

You wandered into my heart.

Made a pagan learn what's holy,

shot down with a single dart.

Or was it the other way around?

You did nothing – it was I,

who roamed until I found

the realest dream, the truest lie.

I gave up the fight.

Tendrils of my affection,

uncontrolled and light,

still fly in your direction.

I close my eyes to your indifference,

but still feel it cold and harsh,

Like a castle in the distance,

Beyond a hostile, dark marsh.

I'm sorry, love, you're not to blame;

This ******* has all the fault.

You never asked to play this game,

I locked myself inside this vault.

A cage of my own making,

A trap for a fool,

Giving always, without taking,

Drowning in a shallow pool.

Truly, dear, I ask for naught,

for I have found my peace at last.

Feelings cannot be bought,

I leave my hope in the past.

And these lines put to rest,

Even when I leave this realm,

They will be my very best,

The last leaf on this tree of elm*.

(for S.)

*in Celtic mythology, the elm tree symbolises both death and creation.
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