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mysterie Jul 8
soul; an archive of feelings, a vulnerable collection of eleven entries. an true archive of feelings. mysterie's first ever project.

these entries are very special and vulnerable, mysterie hopes to connect with fellow poets and poetry lovers with these entries.

the archives:
- i waited
- the way i used to
- the ocean knows me
- waiting
- i still care
- where the soul weeps
- tsunami
- begin again
- the book you left open
- dusk
- chosen
soul is my babyyy
date wrote: 9/7
mysterie Jul 8
texts never sent, is nysterie's second ever project. consisting of five texts, going to either a crush, a friend, a parent, enemy or even her future self.. somehow.

these unsent texts reveal her true feelings on the situation and what she should've said in the moment, but never did.

https://textsneversent.straw.page << the project page

the texts:
- i just needed you to know
- drifting
- im still me
- not worth my voice
- one for the books
your sign to read texts never sent!
(and leave me a little comment on the page 🤍)
date wrote: 9/7
Nobody Dec 2024
bombs
rain hopelessly from the sky
blood
forms pools around our best friends
pain
is all we can feel
so, we send them bombs back.
i have to write 5 poems about it and its history. here is the 1st :D
Todd Sommerville Nov 2024
Wishful eternal sphere formed by emotion
Where shatters come together in love
A new day whispers promises of hope and dreams reborn
As cloudy purple skies dissipate against receding storms
New life blossoms into a new dawn.
I tried to incorporate all the suggestions I received in the comments, please forgive the liberties I took in piecing this all together.
Thank you all for participating and please tell me what you think below.
Mrs Timetable May 2024
My cat won't cuddle
Lost my car, too
Forgot where I parked
I'll just watch some
Jeapardy clues
I have no snacks
And my boots are broken down,
Mary Lou
hates the word slacks, and with mixed drinks, she goes to town!
I lost my dog
I lost my truck
I lost my girl
I wonder what's on Cozy TV right now?
Pretty sure it's Monk
Sorry, I got distracted, Mary Lou
Sad you're
Feeling melancholy and blue
I mean it's my only pair of shoes
Can you fix my boots, please ?
With some whiskey
Or some twine
She said
"Try some shoestring
Even try some wine"
Walking all over town
Pondering
Mary Lou
That's actually how my boots feel
Right now...
Very blue
And it's not
Not just my shoes
I asked some friends to contribute some silliness of writing a country song. 4 of us contributed. This is the finished product. *Names were changed to protect the innocent (Mary Lou)
neth jones Nov 2022
i must hustle    cause i’m made of spoil
moist rice skin
            thinly incases  soft fluttering organs
mucus coated   elastic  chicken bones
                                          run throughout my parcel
they prop me      doe-ing before the lumy screen
     (the screen that volunteers us all)

emaciating into my work
      through this communal portal    i'll detonate my legend
    my spirit shall decant and dispel gladly
in the world remaining
    my cadaver will become acclimated
                        and re-meat the soil in an easy spill

         no longer alienated     my work will be    utter
24/10/22

original version

I must hustle    cause I’m made of spoil
moist rice skin
            incasing soft fluttering organs
bones prop me      doe-ing into lumy screen
in that world I’ll emaciate my legend
before    in this one     I re-meat the soil

MARK
Amanda Kay Burke Jul 2022
I wonder how you are feeling exactly
If you miss taste of my lips
Say you care but I can't help but worry
To you I am just something broken to fix
Before it seemed like you were so into me but now it just seems like you want me to change before we even give it a try
MRosen Oct 2020
You are the edge of the universe,
The boundaries of my existence,
A place where students love to converse,
But only from a distance.

I had to write a poem,
But I didn’t know what about.
My mind was at a tipping point,
So I settled upon a pout.

I lay on the soft green blobs,
As I pondered the task at hand.
My head began to throb,
for it felt like a bag of sand.




And in my hour of darkness,
I did not wince nor cry aloud.
For then I heard a harkness,
That pushed me off the ground.

My teacher said a sound,
That made my heart abound
“The stairs that lead to nowhere”

Now that is quite a title,
I chose to use it for my poem-
The words are the most vital.

You are the edge of the universe,
The boundaries of my existence,
A place where students love to converse,
But only from a distance.
MRosen Oct 2020
I ask them to chill out…

Or at least to stop screaming.

I say “it’s eleven and you will wake the neighbors”.

I want them to snuggle up with me on the couch.

I want to watch disney movies as a family

Or play a round of werewolf altogether

But all they will ever want to do is run around the house,

Screaming like chickens with their heads cut off
Datore Fargo Sep 2020
I watch you sleep,
as the sun wakes up.
You slumber,
as songbirds,
chirp themselves,
awake.
Is it odd,
if I count,
the eyelashes,
that fall on your cheek?
Wishful thinking,
for time to pause,
even just for a moment.
Love,
Me.
This is the second poem of the letter project. I hope it reaches you.
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