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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
Behold,
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.
The pen bleeds
But the heart still hurt
Yearning to learn that story
To console its forgotten memories

A face that haunts
The same voice that makes you cry in your sleep
Puzzles that vanish
When the sun is up and reality is awake

I don't know
I can't remember
I want to know
I want to remember

The heart that longs
The pain that can't be consoled
Making the present bleak
Them looking at you in disdain

Who am I?
Why am I here?
Why am I different?
Why do I feel too much?

I don't know
I cannot remember
I need to know
I need to remember
Do you sometimes feel like you are searching for someting? A memory, a thing or a person? Do you ever feel like missing something you think you had but you can't remember what is it?
nameless Aug 2020
I sit. The grass is damp with the light rain that falls upon my head.

“It’s been a while”, I say, breaking the silence. Not that there’s anybody here to respond. Not anymore. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply. Trying to calm down the nerves that are still here after all this time, the beating of my heart.

All this time. All those wasted years of space for nothing. It’s unbreakable, the heavy blanket in the air, the one holding all the words in the past that I cannot bear to bring up. The one that is better left alone, forgotten.

There is so much I want to say.
So much that I won’t say.

The rain begins to pour heavier. The drops are now pounding against me, my clothes soaking wet. The wind picks up sticks and pebbles, and I watch as they scatter across the ground,

I do not move.
Instead, I stay still. Letting the sky cascade against me, as it forms puddles in the soil. The pitter pat sound is strangely comforting. I take everything in and nothing in at the same time, only focusing on the noise, ignoring the cold, the want to go run back inside.

I’m tired of running.

I want to believe that you’re up there watching, proud. That you can find it within your heart to forgive me for being a coward, for being unable to take the step forward. That even after all these years of silence between us, we are still there, existing between the universe.

I hope that one day, in the future, I will return, changed for better.
That I will finally tell you all the things I should have said long ago.
Lost Robot Jun 2020
I open my most special notebook among the hundreds
Plagued with memories that degrade over time
With knowledge that only paper may preserve my thoughts

I have my list of Wisdoms in my mind
Knowing the first must be the most impactful to all our lives
And thus I write, forever to be known as Wisdom number One
The cause of all my pain

In our lives we encounter gems
Our most precious of valuables
Our most cherished of moments
Which make life truly worth it
Which pull us through another painful day
Just for the chance to experience it once more

But

Our gems, revisited, never shine quite as bright
We search endlessly to reclaim our joy from these moments
But all that is left, is sadness, for moments lost

But all that is right, is wisdom, for we know that those moments are lost

We know the past brightness of our most cherished gems
But even in memory, every passing day
Makes our gems look a little duller
Losing our happiest times in favor of a painful world
All the while, we would rather trade reality for fantasy at any price

All the never, would we trade our faded gems for happiness

And thus we willingly keep our pain
These faded gems being the only remaining mementos of our joy
Preferring the sadness
Knowing somehow, losing our faded gems would make us worse off
Even if joy results

All gems fade.
You can only see each gem for the first time once.
Each passing moment takes a little more from you, never to be experienced or remembered again.

However
There are some who trade their gems for happiness
Some who reject their happiest memories
Some who stop trying to reclaim those moments
Some who are truly broken

For we know that somehow, our pain has more value.
My first-ever poem, inspired by the painful thoughts and feelings spawned from something I've referred to as Wisdom #1 for many years.
Wisdom One impacts everybody, whether it be in the form of reminiscence of a better past you can never live again, completing a non-replayable story-based game with characters you hold dear to your heart, memories preceding the death of a good friend with communications now cut off for life, and so on.
I know that this is experienced by all, in some form or another, so I wrote this poem to let you know that you are not alone, and to give this a common name we can all think of it by.
Archer Apr 2020
Saudade without you
Whats left now?
The flowers that bloomed
Now left to shrivel
Saudade
The bricks in our home
Now left to crumble
Saudade
The hero and heroine
Now left to go their separate ways
Saudade
The wrapping of the gift
Left torn on the floor
Saudade
The love that remains
After you have gone
Saudade
What am I to do
With all of this
Its an empty city
Even the lights come on at night
Where have you gone?
The places in my head
Once occupied by you
Are now left barren and void
I try to make sense of it all
This could be the last time
Never to love someone again
All the future stories
Been told
All that's left
Is a love lost
Unguided and astray
Saudade
Saudade is used to explain the feeling of missing something or someone. It is used to tell about something that you used to have (and liked) but don't have anymore. But literally, it goes deeper. ... In a whole bunch of clumsy English words, Saudade means “the love that remains” after someone is gone.
Arold Apr 2020
Ele é confusão
Inesperado como a chuva no Verão
Turbulento e confuso

Ouve-me de noite
Adormece de dia
Discorda dos meus princípios
É terramoto na minha personalidade

Ele é diferente
Por ser igual a tudo aquilo que procuro
Agita-me até água transbordar
Toca-me violentamente
E ainda me sinto virgem

Diálogos viram ausência
Abraços viram respirações suspensas
Memórias viram mensagens espaçadas

Ele é banho de água fria
Café queimado
Areia branca que queima
É desnecessário
Mas inevitável
Veda Laurenski Jan 2020
Come sit here with me my friend.
Come and rest your weary feet
A comfy seat and window pane
As we watch the passing trains
And people on the street.

Come sit here with me my friend
Come and share with me your day
This sunny view and empty chair
Are not the same
Without you sitting there.
We've started eating lunch most days. I miss her when she's not there.
Veda Laurenski Jan 2020
Christmas is here.
Your absence is my present.
How lucky I am
To have the gift
Of missing someone like you.
She doesn't even celebrate Christmas
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