Poppy15 1d
When turning each page
the portraits are occurred:
convince the mind to engage
the old experience with her.

Suddenly, the lip is wide
pure drops are falling down
into the midst of mind;
crowd of noise is surrounded.

Not long, being awaken
by the presence of time:
lay on the floor darken
to listen to the silent rhyme.
A treasure is unlike a present
Because it is not simply handed to you
It is a rare and valuable reward
That you must spend time and energy to pursue

And once you've sought out and
Acquired your gems that sparkle and glow
You must take care and protect your treasure
In something hidden such as a trove

In this trove she'll sit and wait
To be gazed upon and loved
Just make sure to appreciate her
Or else she'll escape and fly away like a dove

See, a treasure trove is like a safe
And not like a cage or a drawer
You must take out your treasure sometimes for show
And admire her all the more
written february 21, 2018
Lost in the glow of the eyes (Past)
The World, I don't really care (Present)

Wish for amnesia (Future)
Theme: Past-Present-Future
Then, nothing matters.
they came and said,
'i present to you: the future!'

which is...
not really the future...
the thing about the future is that...
it is not now yet...
and you are presenting it...

what you are actually doing...

the present.

and that's fine.
Tarek O Feb 12
She's there
She's always been there
Even when she’s not
She's there
At moments
She gets lost
Never too long
Until she's found
At times
She's an accident
Then the airbag that saves your life
A mistake
A lesson learned
She's a wake-up call
A definite reminder when the night falls
She's that notification waiting to ring!
She's there when sadness kicks in
She's there yearning to share happiness within
She's all that was and whatever will be
She's the past
She’s the future
Without darkness
There can be no light
And she is the light
She’s full of light
She's there…
Eric Fraley Feb 9
By the time you read this...

I will have faded and frayed

Gone and decayed

Like pencil on paper

I've been erased

By the time that you read this

You may be afraid

Of what they may say

But don't be ashamed

By the time that you read this

I know you'll be grown

I know you'll be changed


Deep down

I know you're the same

By the time that you read this

I'll have hoped and have prayed...

That you became your own person

Not just a slave

By the time that you read this

I hope you'll be proud...

Of the life that you’ve made

Now that you're reading this

I'd just like to help you remember

I'd just like to help us and convey

We had a dream once

The world was something we'd change

But now it's just you

I've been away


It's just you

By the time that you read this...

Ten years have gone by

Since I promised I'd stay
Kai Feb 8
i waited for tomorrow
because they said it wouldn’t rain
but the weathermen
is often wrong and by the time
tomorrow came
it thunderstormed all day
Follow me on instagram @chaos.poetry for more poems and content!
Ady Feb 7
Dear past me,
I found a suggestion to write to our future self.
And, after much thought and deliberation, I found myself unable to thinks of us further than today.
Although, the past you and present me converge today, we both understand, that even now, our future is uncertain. And, it's all down to present me.

So, dear possible future,
there's a few things I know:

I know the sky is blue; sometimes.
The day before today was yesterday and after will be tomorrow. But yesterday is now certain. Written down on a rock. It is now a fixed point of life.
But tomorrow may not come. The sun not rise nor the moon fall.

Tomorrow is the great perhaps.
Sleeping; waiting to be awaken.
We are Schrodinger's cat. Both alive and dead inside the box of tomorrow.

That even if I can't see myself further than today;
here's to the things written and unwritten,
to the you before and the me after.
Here's to the great perhaps and maybe of tomorrow,
To the us who know,
and the uncertainty of now.
That to whatever yesterday decided,
tomorrow might forgive us.
Here's to the fine line between the past and future,
that it might meet our present and if not-
that it will remember us even if just today.

Here's to us,
anywhere in time.
An excerpt of a journal entry
Here you are again
Lying next to me, I was wrapped up in the comfort of my duvet just a few seconds ago But now I’m tangled up in your fingers (again)
They speckle my skin with indigo and violet ink that I scrub at
It wont wash off
Your teeth sink into my neck, through my veins
You’ve entered into my bloodstream
My limbs start to detach
All I am is this mould of flesh in the palm of his hand
You keep crashing into me
Painting every corner of my body with your tongue
Crimson seeps down my spine as he plays it like a violin
Strumming and plucking at my cords
When will it end?
God, when will this end?
I close my eyes, they’re filled with water
It fills my mouth and lungs
I’m drowning
His body is a weight that drags me down further
It refuses to let me swim up towards the surface
Even a quick gasp for air is forbidden -
Tell yourself that this is just another bad dream
Keep telling yourself that
I’m fading into his sheets
I wake up
Wrapped in the comfort of my duvet, just like I was a few seconds ago
I’m alone but
The memory of him is always ever-present
He lives on in every cell and every bone.
Skye Feb 4
Running after ghosts of the past,
whilst stepping on glass shards,
you spend your days chasing the next high,
not knowing that you’re getting caught in the lies.

Like a spider that
meticulously weaves
and endlessly plots,
you take your strides cautiously,
yet still with a hint of mischievous spontaneity.

But the train tracks ahead of you
that are littered with rocks
and the crunch of footsteps behind that mocks even you,
never falters, never ceases.
You pace yourself as though you're running,
but all you're really doing is falling.

You’re drowning in quicksand,
making waves in the pits.
Distressed cries; not knowing where you’d land.
You wait to see if anyone will save you,
not knowing that all you ever needed was yourself.

Do you not see, do you not hear?
That your heart is hurting?

Its asking you to love yourself a little more,
to let your guard down and soar,
to bless yourself with change,
although it may be strange (to you).

This life is an endless journey of self growth,
charted by fate, and
accompanied with love,
but only when you let it happen,
will it make you great again.
I wrote this as a gift for my best friend when she was struggling to find her place in the world. I hope this finds her well. x
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