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i'm free
well for eleven days...
i can't wait
for the red rocks
and the hours of hiking
and walking through the tiny town
i missed it
last year
after this, we didn't go back to school
this year,
we are

i hope
probably not gonna be active until next week sorry :)
Diljeev 5d
Stood by the window
in the heart of the glare,
her feet bare
on the cold floor,
with a much colder stare,
there she is.

never out of words
on days it's his breath
taken away,
what else is to expect
from someone right out of
a Shakespearean play,
there she is.

Dressed in blood red
one day she'll wed,
he hangs by a thread,
the clocks may run out
he'll never be done,
every thousandth look
is the same as the first one,
there she is.
Trip-A 5d
Her hair burned a radiant red
The curls wrapped around my heart
Payton Feb 24
Stars always became tangled in her hair when she played in the sky.
They twinkled like glitter on her skin when she stood beneath the red, hot sun and glowed in the darkness of his shadow.
This isn't really a poem. It's more like a pretty thought. It was written in 2016.
LemonWater Feb 14
I draw with silver 'till it turns red
Not on surface, but in depth
I draw in time, in life, in motion
I draw in pain and create art
The first verse is inspired form a tik tok lol

an icicle broke off from
the gutter of my porch,

stabbing my hydrangea
bush right in the heart.

i could reprimand the
shattered remains of an
icy spear,

and then bandage the
wound with a layer
of snow–

yet it occurs to me to maybe
quarter an apple with a
Swiss Army knife,

this pooling of thoughts like
pale blood seeping out of a
painfully frozen morning—

turning me white like
heavy frost over
so many early roses...

s jones

07 Feb 2021
Jes Feb 9
The rose,
Staid on the porch rail,
Was forbidden in the parlor.
First frost arrived,
Enrobing petals in velvet,
Crimson thick and skin softened,
Bewildering. Those who stroll by
But not take —

Who could handle
The scentless spectacle
Spoiling inside?

A private decay in a white blanket tomb,
A fading in a deafened hollow.
Next year the neighbor will plant
New roses to surrender.
Cox Feb 3
Flowers and pain, a down- pour of rain.
Coffee in a cup, far too hot.
Reds and blues and greens, fields of flowers creating a colourful scene.
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