Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
There are so many lilies in my brain,
spreading the petals of the pain,
full of the fragrance of regret,
they are too hard to forget,
thrive and flow fast through the veins.
Indonesia, 22nd September 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Arise 1d
road crossed
six years apart,
stalked you every year,
regrets now
lost you, oh dear,
seen the world
with my eyes, I stare,
think how would it be
if you were beside me here.
yes, I'm alone, still, dream of you.
wish you to break,
collect my heart
what is yours to take,
no push to do
if there's happiness in you,
confused, how do I you ask,
seek that little pearl deep
doors open
glow in there if you see.
Love and Break
we both unknown.
through these years,
we have grown
Um, wise,
I am,
sure You are,
Far, we are,
Scar?
We Admire.

this was the only way,
to spill it on notes,
we have shared the feeling,
let's share these words,

this is not for me, I write,
it's for you, who read.
wish this owe a teardrop
unshared.. untouched.. unheard.
a symbol of our pure love,

to those except these two,
are wondering who he talking to,
we confessed on a mail,
the prelationship we both failed,
[21 - 9 - 2021]
Its ongoing. Im late for Gym.
B3loved is her name. I love sharing this love story with you.
If you want to ask email me @ themilannshrestha@gmail.com
My days linger
Among cameo Sun and Buckeye battleship grey days
Amid the towering arbor vitae spires
That conspire to touch the sky
Anid the cicada's quick churning clicks
A symphony of sorts; an entymological buzz
For what reasons?
Because,
I am new in Ohio

For me Life begins when it wanes
When it begins to suffer the consequence of it's folly
When it's envisioned it's distant end
For me, myself
For the wantonly wicked
The obsequious
The interesting, albeit intrepid
After the tolls have been finessed
The tolls must still be paid with obscene interest
Before it's finished

When the scenery is awash in beauty and emerald gable greens
But your eyes are dimmed
Hairs graying; decaying
Less acutely focused
Attuned
When the synaptic firing pin is
Worn down; burred
Still you revel in the gratitude
You are able to muster
By you i mean I
And embrace the remnants of
Breathy joy and lack luster exuberance
In this 3rd scene sense of Midwestern
Consolation prize
Before i close my eyes
little lion Sep 13
it was 365 days ago
that things changed.



I regret that,
and I regret you.
Jason Drury Sep 9
“Keep your nose clean”

His intent was momentous.
An ant like phrase,
with mountainous exorcism.

“Keep your nose clean”,
His voice like Zeus,
thunderously subtle.

Echoing and vibrating,
through regret, sin,
and fueled debauchery.

This phrase kept me true,
on-course through,
dark seas.

A map to navigate,
knowing when,
to steer away.

“Keep your nose clean”
I hear him still,
his voice sobering.

“Yes, grandfather.”

“I will”
For my grandfather
Bansi Adroja Sep 8
I would have stayed in London
not given away my heart
and left it with the wrong person
spent a few nights on beaches
under clear skies and stars
in a Miami sunset haze
Maybe I’d be by the sea
or living the big city dream
be a new version of myself
a person I always wanted to be
Nostalgic regret
I read from my seventh gay YA novel of the year as the central line whirls by my skull
scraping away the buried sensations
looking across the pockmarked platform
to year 8
the boy who I kissed in secret in the changing rooms
suddenly looked like death on the school pitch
since the passes were now higher harder and tackles less friendly
without words exchanging I think maybe then he knew our practice wasn’t something we could repeat
that the risk of pretending to be as much of lover a boy can was too adult too real for lunchtime escapes
maybe then my feet knew his retreating frame in the summer heat was an unconscious betrayal           my heart failing to reach out and soothe his agony when the metal studs flirted with his skin
and he’s looking up at me like a salve like some sort of safe haven leaving him on the astroturf to bleed alone
and in that moment
I reach out across the lines to try to smooth out his face and tell him he will stand
and his smile will make the pain yield
and his hands will hold another boy
and will not be left alone
I pull my hand back to let him rest at last
and the train pulls in.
I am thankfully  fortunate  
Though i owe thou.  
A sober kiss thou deserve
Though Methinks its impossible,
Thy presence intoxicates me
I am thankful

I am happily thankful  
Thy touch
Grants  angels hands shame
Thy aroma
Fives air its freshness
I am  fortunate  

I am somber
I am misplaced from thy presence
I am regretful
I canst not until beam
Yet,
I am  fortunate
                                                                       That i wot thou
My Dear Poet Aug 26
One night
before I went to bed
while dusting my books
One by one
counting the ones
I had read
I came across
a book from you
I had it all along
I wish I knew

Chapters I never gleamed
Pages I’d never seen
About places
I’d never been
Experiences I never had
Things I never heard
and to add to that
a bookmark
with your name
and a blue bird

And out slipped
a photo of me
As I flipped
the cover to see
The title
And there was you
You fell out
from the book too

Two photos torn
separated by scorn
placed in pages of a book
Between the worn covers
were torn lovers
and It never dawned
for me to ever look
All stories end but some end
without the help of fate.
We need to open our eyes
and read the signs before it’s too late.
Next page