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I S A A C Jun 15
earthquakes, heart breaks, slow like a turtle
trying to birth my new era but i am not fertile
all in divine timing i guess
what is holding me back, my stress, my ex, is my best not good enough
what is holding back my blessings, my lessons, is it that my heart is scuffed
what do i even want, been way too long
since i asked myself to be honest, everything has been a performance
who would i be if i was fearless
what would i be like if i was endearing
wonder what the core essence of me is, my scent riding the breezes
people are recognizing me, my anxiety recognizes me
a recipe for brain-fog, get up for a morning jog
to sweat out all of my venom, to restart my system
cultivate and reinstate my Wisdom
loose moral blossom
flaunting for all comers
throbbingly defying
pigeon-holes
to let life thrum
Mrs Timetable Apr 10
The vibe of you makes me melt
But not so I can sleep
Puddle of emotions
Cannot be explained
You let me inhale
A trace of that vibe
And it's all I need
Just knowing you are there
N Feb 1
Can I pour this love I hold
for you into your open mouth?

Can I write you endless
love letters as long as I live?

Can I drown my sorrows
between your thighs?

Can I devour your scent till
you suffocate with pleasure?
Kimberly Jan 16
You're like a coffee
Uncertainty
Sometimes sweet and bitter
Taking me higher

A strong scent
That rest and resent
Stimulating; Addicting
In my head: clinging
It was as if her old shirt has tightened its grip unto her — slowly spreading crumbs of itch and scars from her last night's episode.

And sometimes, she would often wear her old clothes to feel its tightness and grip her unbalanced body, so she would look at herself and roll her eyes in disgust. And often, she would toss around her big shirts and compare the two, while her wounds slowly turning into scars, she would see to it and add another collection,
and she would call it a day. Eat a lot more than yesterday and hide in her memories, until someone finds her, but she's never found.

Sometimes, she will serenade someone but no one can hear her. Give some pieces of her and turn it into songs, but no one listens.

And she would call it a day, spend a lot more than yesterday, and hide in the present realm of her new found friend, her favorite scent from her old shirt.
January 2022!! Starting this year with a poem like this that I wrote last December. Reminiscing some emotions I felt last year.

Thank you for continuously reading my works. I hope you have a great month. :)
Hussein Dekmak Oct 2021
Sweet thoughts, a loving heart, and kind deeds radiate happiness like the scent of a flower.

Hussein Dekmak
J Lobo Oct 2021
Heady is its scent
this here Bulgarian rose
Dazed men walk drowning
Inspired by a article: https://visitmybulgaria.com/the-rose-valley/
stillhuman Aug 2021
I lose my smell
when I try to fit my words
in a conversation
and I try to fit myself
in someone's life
and my body
in someone's space
I find that I lose my reflection
It looks back at me
lost
blurry eyes are dull
and unresponsive
A vanishing phantom of those I tried to be
BJFWords Aug 2021
If I were like air then I'd breathe you.
As I sit in the the bowl and observe.
I'd never succeed in the quest that I'm freed.
I'll rot though, if I had the nerve.

Just take me and pick as I ripen.
Bite me, as nectar escapes to your chin.
Enraptured by spell to entice you again.
And feast on sweet secrets within.

But leave me and pass with your ignorance.
Overlooked as I signal my true end of days.
For I will repay you with sorrow.
As my beauty fades, waving farewell decays.
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