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Staring in a mirror. Again
It makes me feel worse just to see

I braided my hair so neatly
Now it's falling apart at the seams

There's a comparison there
Let's not look into it

If I stick pins in
Tie up all the loose ends again

It'll look neater, sure
As long as you don't look too close

Cause there's a glittering metal barricade
Of a halfhearted hairstyle I tried to save
This has been sitting in my drafts for a bit now
aisha 6d
Where do I begin?
it aches my being, struggling to remember you the way you were
     when I
let myself abandon your throne undusted, unvisited, unloved; I
let myself forget the pages from the time I tried to memorialize you
in ink so dark, it swallowed me whole and spitted me out in pieces
am I right to keep the essence of your past only when
midnight arrives, only on the day you were born?

Do I linger still when I am perfectly aware of the seams I had sewn
     around us are coming
undone, bit by bit since you took the needle and I am left with only
     the fragile thread?

Time was cruel to us, my love
or maybe it had nothing to do with time at all; maybe
it was you trying to get away from the start, and me
trying to catch the star that is you.
Happy birthday, Will. Wherever you are.
Ileana Amara Mar 20
find yourself in the seams of my musings;
a tale of young love, a tale of sweet tragedy,
a warm hug of belonging, a cold release of parting,
such restless heart wanders, high hopes as remedy.

IA
03.21.21.| "you see nothing ever truly ends, because everything is transitory."
Ileana Amara Jul 2020
idealism is a fraud;

angels don't cut off demons' horns
nor do they make them do so;

trust is built for decades,
it cannot be rebuilt in a month
after its destruction;

sometimes worn out apologies
are slapped band-aids onto wounds;

love is not a combat of logic and emotion,
whoever wins makes the other go;

hearts don't stay hearts,
they turn into things
when their own beats begin to lie;

we live in utopian daydreams,
with only a few, broken but breathing souls
seeing through the seams.

IA
Fheyra Jun 2020
Tonight, I laid with thee—
In this room,— Whence thou liberated these ******* to seams,
Thy vest unlocked the chest to beat—
Hush...
The empty black skies,—
I wilt pray with thee—
With two candles intertwined..
From the comfort of someone, until those eyes close..
Ileana Amara May 2020
underneath the seams of fate,
tell me, which do you regret more;
the day you met me?
or the day you left?

IA
A thought-provoking question from my friend that I'm currently thinking of.
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Loose Knit
by Michael R. Burch

She blesses the needle,
fetches fine red stitches,
criss-crossing, embroidering dreams
in the delicate fabric.

And if her hand jerks and twitches in puppet-like fits,
she tells herself
reality is not as threadbare as it seems ...

that a little more darning may gather loose seams.

She weaves an unraveling tapestry
of fatigue and remorse and pain; ...
only the nervously pecking needle
****** her to motion, again and again.

Published by The Chariton Review, Penumbra, Black Bear Review, and Triplopia. Keywords/Tags: Addiction, needle, veins, stitches, red, blood, ******, dreams, hallucinations, seams, darning, tapestry
When you kiss my lips
my heart feels like it's unraveling at the seams,
and my emotions are exposed to you.

When you are done,
sew me up,
and do it all over again.
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