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Train of Thought Nov 2019
Hold not my sins against me,
For I am only human:
Scarred, broken, fallen.

Give me grace, and you'll have my faith;
I forgive and love you all the same.

Til next we meet, I pray instead of enmity,
It'll be in a sweet embrace.

But for all the tension I've caused--
I'm sorry for my mistakes.
gracie Oct 2019
i hope that time isnt linear
so i can stop wondering if we could just go back.

i would keep moving forward,
keep moving on,
and eventually,
she would bring me back to you.
"im happy for them" i say
"im happy for us too"
i.b.
M Solav Jul 2019
We live on the ripples of a beating heart
Sailing wide across a great black sea
Each pulses like falling raindrops
As we drift on the surface of destiny

We know the struggles and the storms to come
Foundations the turmoils of passing winds
Are scattering on our way towards the sun
Were raised by none but the breathe of our will

We become landscapes the further we are drawn
Cold mountains, dense forests, oceans and such,
On our carved existence all promise to be found
As we roam from mood to mood, from thought to thought

We understand at last what the touch reconciles
When we start to realize what we had always known
That the world was always ours, and it dawns on our mind
That the rainfall had stopped while we’d landed home
Written in June 2019 - for an exhibition in Peking.
Trinity Mar 2019
i see the boy.
the one that runs from me.

the one i can only see
the boy who can't see me

i scream his nameless name in my dreams
why cant he see me?
i can hear him as he speaks

the nameless boy who i cant see
the faceless man who can only see me

i want the man to see me
the illusion of the boy i once was able to see
Julian Delia Mar 2019
The white flag has been raised.
The earth lies scorched and blazed;
Medals were pinned on chests,
Testament to the best murderers,
Killers being given glory and praise.

The war is finally over.
Go home, soldier.
Pick up the hammer and the nail,
For houses have been torn down –
Bombs have fallen like rain, explosive gales.

Now, the bridges must be rebuilt;
Lost hopes must be found,
Somewhere in the debris and guilt.
POWs must be returned safe and sound,
The world must continue to spin, at a tilt.

Bridges can be rebuilt, yes,
But imagine if we tried to not burn them down, at all.
Empty cups can be refilled,
But imagine if we never dried them out, how we’d all stand tall.

If we always choose war,
We shall never know peace.
If we always even the score,
We shall sire desperate pleas.
A poem that is (sort of) a sequel to 'Burning Bridges'.
Michael Nov 2018
I know there was no we before
But now I think that we can be more
More than just together
I think "merge as one forever"
      -Is the phrase I'm looking for-
Loving you was a chance I took
Breaking you was a choice I made
Accepting you was challenge I had.
Loving me was your choice
Staying was your choice
Leaving was an option
     - why didn't you ?-
Through it all I grew from imperfection to imperfection
From me to me
From loving you to Being In Love with you.
From talking to doing.

I ... we take the next step from here...
The start of something new
NoctOwl Nov 2018
There she is
Beautiful, as always
The one who left
The woman who abandoned me

Here I am
Panicking
Trembling
Grasping for air

And in that split moment
I ask myself
If Love were in my situation,
What would Love do?
Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.
GuiseOfALoner Sep 2018
There’s something about writing
my feelings for you.

When it hurts,
the pen doesn’t stop.
With every stroke,
it gets darker
and poisonous.

Until it all gets ugly,
The tears smudged the ink.
Because no word,
no phrase
can ever substitute the pain.

All of them are wasted,
crumpled into the shred.
That’s what it’s like
painstakingly
thinking of you.

All of the hurting,
Time had made us
good enough
Not for each other
But for ourselves.

There were too many words
For us to say,
When all we needed
are four simple words.

TIME

TO

LET

GO.
the art of letting go
Julian Delia Sep 2018
I want to apologise.
Broken relationships, I shall eulogise.
To those I know (or, knew);
Forgive my absence when you needed a warm caress and a hug,
But instead got frostbite, a torrent of snow or dew.

I am sorry for drawing a sword
When you were hoping for an olive branch;
I can be as thorny as an all-knowing lord.
I wish my heart was limitless,
And my kindness infinite –
I dream of love that is fearless,
And of joyousness completely exquisite.

Yet, that is not who I am –
I can be a calm ocean or a tempest,
A total commotion, or peacefully at rest.
I can be enigmatic and reserved,
Or, I can be charismatic, if the mood is reversed.
We are not good or bad;
We can be lewd and strikingly mad,
Or cunningly shrewd, or maybe sad.

We are the yin and the yang;
We all tend to sin, to our demons we hang.
We are objects of pure fascination,
In constant fluctuation,
A recalcitrant reconciliation.
So, I will say it one more time –
Look into my eyes, see through my guise.
I apologise to those who had no shoulder to cry on
And sought mine, when I was not there.
I hope you’re fine, and that someone showered you with care.
Finding peace when you feel like you are forever at war is difficult, but it's possible.
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