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Snipes May 31
I fall too deep in the sleep
Veer off too much I hear beeps
My alignment is slighted
All these other lights
Shine in my eyes so bright
Idolization has me in idles
I still sly to the left of my
Gin stirring in cupholders
Killing all the evil grins outward
The innards are in narratives of the lost road
As I’m throwing it all out the window
Eyes gleaming off on what’s shielded the heart
Imitation of immortalized well beings
and if I’s
Steering the questionable mind
My direction is reckless
They call me by my meaning
They call me on my time
The answers are worth being
Alive on an unknown road
Named after the lost of scopes
The road in front of me
Oh how beautifully constructed
The road in front of me
Oh how purposely corroded
I write with the hope
that you may find truth in my words
your truth
not mine
Kassan Jahmal May 14
The wettest of love written out of my black
fountain pen. I’ve got hearts to spend,
customs to save, and not a lot of people to blame.

Oh what a shame, in this love’s long game,
starting off as friends, good remarks,
All into permanent scars; how haven’t we
come as far?

Oh I wonder how to slow down, to keep on
searching for something not yet around.

Love!

Oh where do I search, with the possible heartbreaks
that seem to lurk? Cut and burnt, soon after I had
my first.

Love letters into ashes, ashes into the dust,
scratched out names, nails turning into rust.

Pinned down by the wrists; to hold onto pain,
crosses are instead exes. Restless, into resting
soundly in my death.

In over my head, thoughts are covering
my shame. I’m waiting patiently after all,
to fall in love.

Once again.
Kassan Jahmal Apr 16
Ocean lines,— under those eyes;
and lovely tears of their blue.
I took a bite of your fruit; cherry lips,
red passionate desired kiss.
Smooth skins of curves; peaches compliment
the plums. Passion fruit, a sour grape mix;
of bitter sweet love at times of you.
A basket case; I'm the fool neither less full of your fruit.

It's under your shoes; glass pieces of hearts
you step on with your high heel boots.
The cracks of sound are the proof;
of your quickened harshness to be my abuse.
I'm no use,— of not being the type used to you.
Scared of a cost to being scarred by love;–
so sacred of you, and all it's holy oxygen in the room.

The atmosphere does change;
but never more like your shades.
I'm stuck in empty pages; trying my best to read into
you. Oh of how the longings I have to meet,— on that
particularly day past a pens dreams painted in ink.
Cornered by love, if when I'm dared to walk on it's street.

The sweets nothings on repeat;
the few awkward hugs, handshakes, speed dating,
and those meet and greets.

Best to find love,— before it comes hunting for
me.

L-O-V-E

Looking Out Very Enthusiastically.
s Mar 4
The moment those three words left his lips,
my chest nearly imploded from sudden bliss.

I couldn’t help but laugh, and let the tears fall.
Who knew? I had been searching for him, after all.
Searching for a lot of things...

Searching for a purpose; so I maybe
know where to go,
Searching for a best high; when
life is keeping me low,
Searching for the lows; when my highs
get out of control.

Searching for a lot of things...

Searching for a reason; to justify the answer,
Searching for my joy; to cure all my
depression's cancer,
Searching for my feet; to pretend that I'm
a perfect dancer.

Searching for a lot of things...

Searching for trouble; as innocent
as I am,
Searching for ***;  just to pretend I'm a
man.

But the search hurts, like words in
a script of a painful verse.

Life has rehearsed.

With the cameras always rolling,
the pains are always emerging,
Everything is so controlling,
and I might not know where I'm going.

All I know-
I'm always searching.
Anais Vionet Feb 23
I lost my love, It’s just that simple.
I don’t know what else to say.

I miss his smile, his eyes, his hands.
He has a high libido and certain demands.

I went to my priest, he seemed kind of grim,
“God has a lot on his plate now - stop bothering him.”

I called the police, they sounded bored but wanted a description.
I said “He’s real good lookin’, and he tastes like chicken.”

I lost my love, but no one understands.
I have a high libido and certain demands.
Anais Vionet Feb 6
(a firefly poem)

Love isn’t easy to find, it’s ​well-camouflaged.
Tichozpytec Jan 8
A missing poster with ten words only
"Looking for someone who also doesn't want to be lonely"
lua Nov 2021
whispers of green that linger in the air
wafting through the grey morning breeze
the sun is shy today, i think to myself
while i hide behind my own wall of clouds

the water is cold and seemingly bottomless
when i dip my toes in the murky black
i watch it ripple
and fogs of blue leak from my lips

jump in
the tide is waist-high
and sends shivers spiraling down your spine
wash away the tearstains of night
and you'll find yourself
looking for the sun.
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