...

Think too much about living
and
you will be
dead.
Think too little
and
you'll have no
head.

i used to write so many things related to you. your whole name, your favorite song, the things you always say, the place where i first saw you.

i write them in different places-- on paper, on the back side of my notes, on the wall, on my wrist.

my hand moves involuntarily and i end up writing everything repeatedly. i write even in between classes. it's even frequent when i get home.

they are always written in the same manner the first time i wrote your name. with care, as if your name was the most sacred thing i'd ever encountered.

but now, i don't even do it anymore.

i stopped the rhyming about you. i forgot your middle name. the song that plays in the car seems so familiar, yet it isn't.

everytime i walk down the corridor where we always used to meet,

your voice doesn't seem to stand out anymore.

my papers are neat now. the last pages of my notes are empty. i didn't receive suspension from vandalizing the school's walls this year. my wrist is covered by my watch. i listen to my professors now. i sleep comfortably.

i lost my pen.

then one day, i encounter your name again.

this time, i write it without feeling anything.

i guess your name isn't as sacred now as it was in the past.

i guess your name would only be a foreign word i knew i encountered but i don't remember.

yeah. i forgave and now, i forgot.

this doesn't even make any sense. i guess i just feel a little nostalgic. i want to write a proper, full poem after this. so yeaps. bye!

Your love
Is like a steaming hot
Cup of coffee,
A beaut'
On a cold
Summer morning,
Sweet
With the
Sugar cubes,
Random
Like the patterns
On top,
And special
Like a handcrafted
Art of origami,
But just like any other
Old cup of coffee,
The steam fades,
And the flavour
Never lasts

Tara L May 13

When I was young,
honey was my favourite treat.
I would do anything for a taste of that liquid gold.
Good or bad,
ugly or clean,
your way or mine,
I’d do it.
At the time my mother laughed,
she thought I was sweet.
Just like my favourite honey treat.
Strangely,
times change and people change,
childish was my new name.

cut me open with a sharp knife
so i know you don't have to try
like the others did, they'd pry
forgetting dull  takeweapons more time
and leave a darker scar, it's hard
they have to break past
everything you built to last
like layers of copper skin from years of solitude
use a sharp knife when you open me up for you

Kody dibble May 12

Shattered dreams..People often fall for their elusive
dreary spell,
Sages come and talk of nothing,
Children go and speak of something,
For what time does benefit us,
It often leaves us somber,
Surviving me,
Is that man in the corner,
Hopefully by now,
More than just an aspect of creation,
Or a reminder,

She comes upstairs,
Blanketed regrets,
No, Nothing surmising of hope or dignity either,
Just a blank stare,
Of formless opinion,

I knew one with opiates in her hair,
And lilacs in her mouth,
Something of a twist and turn,
She often wondered farther,

Firm believer in truth,
Yet vain reminder of silence,
Are these two once burdened upon frightful congruent spheres
or something random altogether,

I think the fish know,
The way they tangle and soar,
The way they find their way, even amidst a muddy storm,
Cloudy murky waters, like places of time stolen before your
very...

To finish this expose she said,
Bluntly reminding me,
I'd like to introduce a placebo
Look into the chalice in your hand,
Keep looking...
There!!!

welcome
Kody dibble May 12

Shattered dreams..People often fall for their elusive
dreary spell,
Sages come and talk of nothing,
Children go and speak of something,
For what time does benefit us,
It often leaves us somber,
Surviving me,
Is that man in the corner,
Hopefully by now,
More than just an aspect of creation,
Or a reminder,

She comes upstairs,
Blanketed regrets,
No, Nothing surmising of hope or dignity either,
Just a blank stare,
Of formless opinion,

I knew one with opiates in her hair,
And lilacs in her mouth,
Something of a twist and turn,
She often wondered farther,

Firm believer in truth,
Yet vain reminder of silence,
Are these two once burdened upon frightful congruent spheres
or something random altogether,

I think the fish know,
The way they tangle and soar,
The way they find their way, even amidst a muddy storm,
Cloudy murky waters, like places of time stolen before your
very...

To finish this expose she said,
Bluntly reminding me,
I'd like to introduce a placebo
Look into the chalice in your hand,
Keep looking...
There!!!

welcome
Ili Z Norizan May 11

She grew up,
Seeing her reflections,
A contorted view of imperfections,
Something she wishes to fix,
But have no idea how to,
As she struggles with her inner demons,
Making a deal with the devil,
And not knowing if there's comfort in shadows,
Or trouble lurking in the corners,
Of her mind.

She grew up,
Over the years,
Hoping to make sense of things,
Of why she's unlike the others,
Who never seems to falter,
Constantly having those as eager,
To know and love them,
When she keeps on finding dead ends,
In the company of those she wishes to avoid,
As though she goes around looking for trouble,
When all she's ever done,
Was search for the one,
She could call her own.

She grew up,
With ever blink of an eye,
She changed and built herself,
Upon the remains of her long forgotten past,
The ruins of regrets and lessons learned,
And as time flashes before her,
Her next steps were slow and steady,
Firmly grounded,
Yet her head held high,
Up in the clouds,
Where kingdoms of dreams,
Worked their magic,
Reminding her that she's writing a fantasy,
Not another tragedy.

@byizn

A just lust kinda love
Never does last long
For lust fades,
lust degrades
The lively love you want.

Relationships raised on the amount of arousal's
You acquire within a week
Sadly, badly,
Quite truthfully,
Makes your relationship weak.

Don't downgrade lust
That lovely lustful thing
Just find a better balance
For the love and lust you need

Birds come to aid of poets
who are stuck mid-air
somewhere
They'll chirp and sing
their best song
that'll guide us long
and will take off
as soon as we drop the pen
to their own nest

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