Dania Jul 28

I know what to do with the polaroids we took over the holidays--
I can burn them.

I know what to do with the seven t-shirts, two sweatshirts, and one jersey you gave me to sleep in and wear while we held each other in bed every night for three years--
I can throw them away.

I know what to do with the necklace you gave me for my birthday, the bracelet you gave me for our six months and the earrings you bought me when we fought last year on my birthday--
I can sell them.

But I don't know what to do with your voice ringing in my head, saying I love you, and then I hate you.

But I don't know what to do with the image of your eyes lighting up when I would greet you at the airport, and then of your arms hesitating to hug me the last time we would ever see each other.

But I don't know what to do with the thought of you holding someone else and giving them your t-shirt to sleep in after a long night in.

And I don't know what to do with the memories. Three years of memories. Of loving you, of you loving me. Of holding you, of you holding me. Of fighting. Of every moment I caught my breath to make sure we were real and then of every moment I wished you hadn't lied or cheated or done something hurtful. Of every little thing that made me want you and want to get away from you all at the same time.

What do I do with all of that?

Please be kind.

I close my eyes
and drive.
Just for a moment,
not long enough to die
just long enough
to remind
myself that I'm alive.
Lift my face
feel the sunshine.
Been down this road a million times


From where we are
Or where we're going
We could be anything
Anything at all


Not shaking

It's just my brilliance
Trying to get out

During one late night poetry show, I got carried away with a blue pen. I wrote on my arm, and then hers.
Aya Domingo Nov 2016

your hands are too rough
for a boy with a heart
as soft as yours.

let your soul and spirit flow
from your eyes and from your lips
it's okay if someone notices.

you can learn what it feels like to fall
gentle and warm in the hands
of someone else. mine are always open.

you don't have to be scared of breaking open;
i will hold you so tight that all your broken pieces
will come back together again.

the person you were before this
is still living in you, hiding behind your eyelids.
i'm sure he likes the view.

you are a hurricane.
you are the universe in full force.
you are loved and loved and loved.

for l.j.h.
Ma Cherie Oct 2016

Night comes ardent, as I am
        sneaking wanting
      ghostly shadows in the darkness,
        inside I'm
        peering, haunting
      the task at hand, is very daunting,

     The glowing moon, thick like a coat
      whispered in the words you quote
         And sung and every poignant note
         A pressing face, a glassy window
         I watch you as you sleep,
        come in like a wanton spirit
       my fingers grasp,  descending deep,

          A spine chilling spell,
           is laid & cast
          I know this breath
          will be your last,
        written in a heart that's glassed,

        Left on beaches in a bottle
        broken said like Aristotle
          no time to wait,
       ... no time to dawdle,

     I lie above & watch you there,
     I stroke your face & stroke your hair,
     showing you how much I care,
      something I would never dare,

      Lifting up the lockets clasp,
     as demons play a retched rasp
     draw to hear the breathless gasp

      As you take a final breath
         & lips so sweet,
         are kissed by death
        I lift you up into my arms
     safe from pain & earthly harms,
     surrendered to a haunting charm,

      Look into my eyes to see
     your every loving memory
     hold me close Ma Dear Cherie,

     With open windows of your soul
       & reaching your desired goal
       a broken heart is finally whole,

       Getting down on bended knee
       & as your wings turn feathery
         you take my hand,
         say hear my plea,
          "I love you too,
           my love to thee
         thank you, as you set me free,
         come follow me to Paradise
         my soul for you I'd sacrifice,
         spare no cost, the steepest price"...

     Lovely man, you look so troubled
      I ferry you, to Mr. Hubble
    I lifted you from 'neath the rubble

   I am not allowed ahead to go
   this is something you should know,
   like the wisdom of the blackened crow

     I show you to the brilliant light
     reward for such a noble fight,
     as this will be your maiden flight
   you have more than earned the right,
    an angel heard your poets plight,

     Enter through the big white gates
      because this is love, & this is Fate
       always knew we'd keep the date        
       no more need for you to wait,

      No more sadness fills your days
      your living in the lovely rays,
      no sharper coin that you could pay

     I must go, & bid adieu
    thank you for the love we knew,
     your kisses sweet like morning dew
     my love for you forever true
      a knot we tied cannot undue

    I'll see you there again one day
    I hope you hear these words I say
     in fields of wheat your spirit plays

     The vault of heaven, open wide
      so leave your coat & go inside
     & Earthly fears, including pride
        listen as the angels sigh
     my waving hand, is not goodbye
     & not one tear you've left to cry

    This is where your soul is calm
     set in ease in groves of balm,
     sing you in a peaceful  psalm
     I leave you here this corridor,
    abiding love behind the door
    a promise bled, a promise swore
    as so many, gone before

   I wait in patience, a thorny crown
    back to Earth my soul is bound
   returned you are without a sound,
    another day has come and gone
   I must be there, the coming dawn
  though in your arms, where I belong    
         I wait again, for death.

           Cherie Nolan© 2016

Oh, the flood...came again, in the night, again literally hear this in my sleep,
Even if heaven isn't your thing
I hear the spirits weep
I hope these words of love come though.
James Shay Sep 2016

I can't sit at a table anymore without seeing you in the seat next to me
I can't tie my shoe anymore without thinking of you getting mad at how slow I do it
I can't listen to music anymore because every song sounds like you
I can't sleep because you were my only motivation to wake up in the morning
I lie to myself every morning to get myself through the rest of the day,
"I'm over you"
But in reality my feelings for you have only gotten stronger

I'm counting on the fact that you never see this. If you do, pretend you didn't. Please.
possibly Jul 2016

A friendly reminder that I want to be yours
in your ever present state of bliss and intrigue.
I want to sit under stars
and feel the warmth of your arm on my neck,
as we sit and ponder the possibilities of you and me.
I want to hear your laugh as a welcome home,
good morning,
good night,
but never as a goodbye.
With laughs and minor accents of home.

You remind me of airports, plotted plants, dogs,
and Saturday morning cartoons.
I remind you of puns, the smell of paper, and your favourite movie.
But I want to  remember you lying on he couch half-asleep
curled up with a pillow
and disheveled hair covering your eyes.
Remembering your sweatpants, long hair, paint stains, and stickers.
Sneaking sandwiches and comics,
text messages, and knowing smiles,
tight hugs.

Just a friendly reminder, to remember me when you leave.

This feels weird | Old thoughts about 26
Vyscern May 2016

Sometimes distractions are better than reminders
In a way they can help to guide us
Through emotional turmoil and troubled times
Sometimes it's better to have them as your guideline

Other times, I may say, reminders are best
To ensure that the past is properly laid to rest
That you understand what was, what has been
And fully acknowledge what you have heard and you have seen

bella patel Mar 2016

when you feel sad...
                   remind yourself,
there is still rain to be heard.
books to be read.
places to be seen.
                   remember that,
libraries and coffee shops await.
there are still sidewalks to be waking on,
forgotten trails to be rediscovered.
                   don't forget that,
there are still feelings you haven't felt yet,
people you still haven't met.
it is okay to be sad.
as humans, we have a right to ache.
but don't forget that this sadness is temporary.

this is comforting for me
Kai Myers Feb 2016

there are things that remind me of you

bamboo, chocolate, snuggles

Things so common,
but I always think of you

lemonheads, games, stylus

Things so feasible,
so easy to associate with anyone

art, late nights, dark rooms

You make them seem like so much more

Boyfriend is giving me random words to use in poems. He tried to give me super hard words, I just made the poem about him :P
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