Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
In the process of Failing to notice
That I was Falling in love with You,

My mind made you a part of me and
Now that I realize, I came so far and Loved so long,

I don't even remember what you were like,
All I have left is a figment of my stupid imagination and That!,
That doesn't even amount to a fraction of what you are.
I wish I had a heart that loved the presence of you rather than a mind that fails trying to make it up to something so that my heartless soul doesn't wither and roam in the memories of our past.

I Love you too much that I am not even gonna ask you to love me back.
Inked Quill Mar 2019
It’s been a while
That we’d last met
For a coffee
Our fingers met
Like our hearts
Opening to each other
I miss the moments
Soaking
Of poignant silence
I’d drawn words
On your chest
In the shadows
And pried open
My own emotions
I hope
You’re doing well
And the words
Have sprouted flowers
In your scars...
Adarsh Premraj Sep 2018
I'm no special
But one in three
Me, myself
And the blue in me

Tried to escape
But couldn't flee
Unchain me
And set me free

House it seemed
Can't disagree
All contained
But peace in thee

No souls, no ears
To hear my plea
Unchain me
And set me free

Grown as a person
Never tasted glee
Heart and soul
Dry as a tree

Thirst unquenchable
By ocean or see
Unchain me
And set me free.
Solomon Dec 2017
Three angels came to greet me,
They said they seek for a friend to be,
First is the Angel of Death,
whom I befriended with,
Now my soul would be reaped with care,
Second is the Angel of Sorrow,
whom I befriended with,
To accompany me on a blue day,
Third is the Angel of Love,
whom I befriended with not,
For love only hurt,So I wouldn't dare.
Love hurts.A lot.
Mary-Eliz Apr 2017
The slow autumn presses
at the window,
as geese give a melancholy voice
to leaving
their dark v-shape
splitting a cloudless sky

the sun spreads
a quiet space
of tangerine orange
and rosy pink
as it slips below the horizon

when darkness closes in,
stars shiver
in the distance
ghosts perhaps since
some have died

the moon’s shimmer follows
the river’s winding path
until
complacent river in lament
mingles with powerful sea

ending and beginning
combined in poignant
harmony
Just a bit out of season! :-)
Lauren R Apr 2016
In the instant it takes a shutter to click and close, you will be gone.

We collected pictures of our perfect pretty smiles, your pearl teeth bear in front, while my lipstick lips, curled into butterfly wings, charmingly drift through the summer air. You are there, you are still there, where I left that you. Before the future became the present and you were no longer here, still there. You are where I cannot reach you.

I held that memory on the tips of my fingers, flicking a lighter close to its edge.

Your hair fell so perfectly over your forehead, but somehow, I still wanted to push it to the side when I looked at the photographs. I guess habit doesn't cease in an instant like the snap of a Polaroid or beat of a heart. When I looked at our pictures, I still wanted to whisper into your ear how much I loved you, chin nuzzled into your neck, fingers draped across your chest, your heart, your warmth. Nothing is permanent. Not even promises. Not even the visions of the kids, the house, the daytime dish washing, and night time monster watching, kids curled up in bed and us, checking on the floor, searching for what is not there and it's funny how even now, even though you're gone, I still find myself doing the same thing. Just alone.

As it caught fire, I watched our perfect lives fall to ashes in the shoe box at my feet, I saw the flash of your eyes and reach of my hand, choking me as it went. They didn't burn as easily as I thought they would.

Im hanging new ones in their place, but the dark spots behind the frames still remain, and your name is written in them.
Last of the spam for today, this one's about letting go
DaSH the Hopeful Jan 2016
I put you on my wall today
          As soon as I got home
              And I smilled at how you were crooked
                   And I tilted my head to really see you

      And that's when the water sloshed out of my ears and I was drowning

                      Your eyes became bubbles that helped me breathe
              When I sucked them in
  
       I became one with the pressure
The fluctuating force that I knew all to well
         Spilling from my ears like a cloud too heavy to hold its weight
    
             You drift off the wall and float with me, fragile, yet permanent and meaningful in my mind
Departure heavy,
A Physical change.
He left me,
poignant.
I was joyous,
but frigid lives on.
Hes left me.
Abigail Shaw Dec 2014
When I first met you, you took me back to the 70’s,
With anarchy, *** pistols and beer soaked blazers,
****** jeans and pipe dreams and your love for jumping off of tall things
under the impression you could fly,
You spoke to me and I felt the whole weight of my body collapse down,
And to this day I thank my knees for not buckling.
MereCat Oct 2014
The best days
Are not the Best Days
Or even the good days
They are the unremarkable
Inconsequential
Days
When you take a step away from yourself
And observe the rise and fall of a moment
From beyond its swell
When you are driving fast
Through a slow-moving night
And the headlights are smearing themselves on the roads
Like they’re trying to redecorate
And the radio is singing Yellow
And you turn your head out the window
To find a moon hung there
Blue-tacked to the infinity of sky
As thick and yellow as your grandmother’s smile
Or when it is winter and the sun has set
But the world doesn’t want the day to be over
And so pulls a musty, mustardy-grey blanket
Right up to its neck and prays
That the time for streetlights
Will insist on running ahead of it
Or when the shadows grow long in summer
And they fall like dust on the sand dunes
You run down to the sea
And try to hold it in your hands
Until the tide prises it from your clenching fingertips
Or when the sunrise is pink
And the cloud caps skid
Like ice-creams on hot plates
And you can’t help but bask in
The creativity of God
The painter
Who’s masterpiece could simply not be framed
And hung on your kitchen wall
And for a little while you want to be able
To lick the colours and candyfloss
Until someone says that little rhyme
About red sky in the mornings
And a shepherd’s warning.
Last night I was driven fast through a slow-moving night while the cars redecorated the roads and the moon smiled in the same colour as a Coldplay song on the radio
Next page