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Sabila Siddiqui Dec 2018
Why do you give your heart
to the ones who carelessly drop them?

Why do you give your heart
to the ones who engrave their name,
scaring it with memories
and then leave it deserted?

Why do you give your happiness
to the ones who leech it out of your life?

Why do you root yourself into their
hearts, intertwining with them emotionally so quickly?

You know better than
to let them wound you.

But I don't know who they
are unless I give them.
Lily Oct 2018
My eyes are like the fog around a lake on a cold morning day
Shaded and grey
Yet as intriguing as the summer haze
As daylight savings time shortens our days to bring us an early sunset ray
Quiet,
I lay my head to rest upon my fluffed up pillow set
Falling asleep quickly to awake bright and early and feel as great as when our eyes had met...
Sarah Sep 2018
you love it, don’t you?
to be powerful and adored
to have people fighting for even a sliver of your attention
oh how i long to be free from your orbit
but being around you feels less like love
and more like a relapse
how am i supposed to move on from someone as intoxicating as you my dear?
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
Dropping subtle hints.
Little clues.
Scattered like breadcrumbs.
Feeding you the leftovers of my sorrow.
Amanda Kay Burke May 2018
I would rather have
Moved on too quickly than held
On for way too long
I just had to title it this
no emotionally ecstatic experience compares
   to the seminal instance
   whence spermatozoa
   (from profuse *******) beget

the miraculous propensity
   to procreate despite the steep odds
   female fertility fosters potential impregnation
   fusing the hereditary debt

of feral, fiery, fomenting friskiness
   fueling fancy free footloose fornication
   prior to seminal fertilization union
   sans ova doth induce fret
full ness in tandem with

   diametrically opposed exultant sensations
   (biologically, embryonically, microscopically,
   et cetera) seismic shocks inject  
when deliberate intent arises to disregard

   applying prophylactics choice
   plying reproductive roulette let
which analogous fruitful uterine plain
   bastes the "cooking" egg omelette  

which impregnation upends cessation of "self"
   first and foremost asper desire to breed
wrenching role of "me" as operative
   of webbed world de jure upon
   consummating that most miraculous deed

necessitating yet for the fecund female relief
   from messy menstrual cycle
   she becomes temporarily freed
that perhaps a novitiate (or even a gal practiced
   in the euphoric family, she instinctually
   abides prenatal signals that heed

without feeling debased, harangued, lectured
   pedagogical, polemical, puritanical, et cetera blast
assessing copulation enjoyed gloriously,
   ineluctably, kinesthetically
   lectured by elder, especially cast

in thee reel life drama, that nine months
   til offspring utters initial whimper
   elapses exceptionally fast
emitting a radiant golden halo wishing

   to bottle confluence of hormonal secretions last
ideally fully awake to the birthing process,
   when juiced the first stage of maternity past
cuz every moment thee inconsolably

   (perhaps colicky infant)
   gets first dibs to suckle,
   which round the clock nursing
   consumes moments many vast.
Àŧùl Apr 2016
It is an Indian midnight,
Here it descends so quietly,
But now it is here so quickly,
So sonorous is the zeroth hour,
But none will listen to its music,
Hear the crickets breaking the silence,
In the end, it's midnight.
Midnight Poem.

My HP Poem #1053
©Atul Kaushal
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