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Jade Apr 2015
You won't run,
But you can't promise to stay,
We won't know if this feeling will fade away,
We spoke and we lay,
In the darkness of the day,
Arms and legs tangled,
As time passes away.
witchy woman Apr 2017
space closes, time passes
seasons change, bringing inevitable difference with them.
as years draw by and sketch new lines on your face
I face the reality that,
one day, everyone will age.
from the moment you are born, you are already dying
life sends diseases of the mind and body to weaken you.
nobody is spared.
that's why so many are drawn to stories of death and despair
because we know it is right under our noses,
around every street corner,
behind every sunny spot, a shadow.
is it beautiful? ironically.
but is this really the way to live fulfilled? happily?
I have no answers,
I guess we'll just have to see
just thoughts, lately I havent been able to write anything extraordinary... but I feel like perhaps just writing down my thoughts may help me get back into that groove
As I layed there
Next to you
I left myself
And observed our naked bodies
Gasping for air
For freedom
Touching the obscured silence
Wanting to hold on to such perfect moment
Forgetting, fulfilling
Trying to catch your words
That Fled free
Trying to be people we were not
Just reaching out
For something fonder
Deeper
Much meaningful
Tasting every molecule of our bodies
We looked at each other
Profoundly
Searching for answers
To questions we hadn't even asked
-it means nothing more
Debanjana Saha Apr 2017
Unknown
unexplained
unanswered
more than that
its the waiting
that kills..
whether to wait or to leave?
awaiting to be answered...
imnthea Apr 2017
when you try harder and its not enough
just stop trying and do it!

when you are not even trying
and  way passed the deadline
only questions remains
what am i doing?
why?
only if i had at least one answer
answer to why i feel this choke?
and my tears just ready to flow
why this reluctance ?
why can't i point out what is it
and after all that questions without answer
what now?
what i think i should do?
why can't i move?
which excuse is it this time?
that's holding me here.
why am i arrested within?
why i feel like i am devouring my own tail?
yet the circle remains the same
and if this is true, why can't i stop?
why this choke is not enough ?
why it keeps suffocating and not just end it?
why can't i just even try to stop?
what do i need to stop?
why my question only have vague answer?
and why every unsure answer have another question?
why that question leads to more questions?
does it ever end?
Phantom Poet Apr 2017
I never liked poems,
Boring things in English textbooks,
Boring to read,
Twisted verses,
Something I could not feed,
My brain,
But since I tried to write in vain,
Now to me a poem,
Crafted by me,
Is my totem,
It traps my insecurity,
A sacred gem,
It's written beauty,
Maybe I liked it,
Because it's something,
I could do from my heart,
Something I can turn to,
To build words,
Out of the blue.
Buddy T Mar 2017
do you hate me?
if not answer no
if so answer no

do you love me?
if so answer yes
if not answer yes
Essen Dossev Mar 2017
Piecing together a story with timestamps
from letters you published, and
clues raining down like hammers,
(which is to say, at first dangerous, and then
amnesia-inducing, leaving me certain
I was delirious all along)

you asked me “what kind of person are you?”
and I hesitantly shrugged,
“whatever kind you need me to be, if only
I can.” If only
I can.

I can be a mirror,
a reflection,
a deflection,
a misdirection,
an inter-introspection
asking only what has already
been asked before, rapid-fire
and firing faster, until it shatters
like
“what kind of person are you?”
and
“what do you see when you look at me?”
and
"how can you see what's looking at you,
if you didn't first know to look to see?”
and
"what if we run out of things to say
or questions to ask?”
and
“how many bites does it take
to get to the centre of a person?”
and
"if I promise there's no venom in my fangs
could I bite into you?”
and
I wonder what you taste like.
Kagey Sage Mar 2017
What is it that stops us from questioning
the scaffolding of our reality?
Why aren't more of us solipsists?
Shouldn't we all be like those
delusional violent ones?

They see no reason
to think the world exists
outside their heads
Therefore their thoughts influence
their reality more and more

All of our thoughts
influence the reality
We sense to a varying degree
unique to each of us

But do we really all, for the most part
believe some **-hum passivity?
Oh, what pressures magnetize our brains
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