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William A Poppen Feb 2019
Each time I notice
Small changes in your life
I keep them to myself

You know your smartphone
has a new ring
I don’t need to tell you

Your hair has a different tint
If I mention it
Your will ask me
Do you like it

And I would have to say
How much I love and care
About you and all that you are
Even if I don’t like your
New hair tint
And, by the way
The new phone ring —
Irritating
Why some people say I am quiet
Kristina Tan Feb 2019
You still wonder,
what time I get home,
who I was with,
what I was doing.

You ask these questions,
like you're still my partner,
my lover,
my one and only.

Yet you are no longer entitled to.
You made the choice,
to let me go,
to betray me,
to let me down.

I made the mistake.
By sharing,
my night adventures,
late shenanigans.

I succumbed to answer to you.
Because I know you worry.
I know you care.

It comes off as a judgment now,
a scolding,
a lecture.

There is no "us" anymore.
Time to keep my lips sealed,
shut in time,
lock and keyed.
When you share things with your ex and you realized you've said too much.
Graff1980 Jan 2019
Daylight shades
paint the frames
and Instagram pages
with beautiful smiles
and short blond locks
that look out at
the world with
a certain
curiousness.
Snapshot moments
of social projections
pushed out onto
the internet
so strangers
can view
those small lies,
because
these pictures
do not know
or show
a quarter of
the truth.

Behind the
staged displays
of fun and cosplay
there are
dark shadows
with deep corners
where broken hearts
bleed clutching
their bruised wrists
and split lips.
Where blood drips
on the cracked tip
of the kitchen
counter top.

There are
repeated rapes,
cruelty and denial,
honesty rejected,
and despairing.
There is
a sense of
resignation
to not let this
invasion
define her life.

There is abandonment
from those who should have
safe guarded
her pulsar heart,
there is
injustice,
and while
the darkness
has not swallowed
her soul whole
yet,
she still finds time
to give light  
to a friend
who was trying to lend
a compassionate ear
to her.

These photos
do not dare
to chart the depths
seldom shared,
or explore more
then mere outward
pleasantries.

There is so much
left to see, hear,
and hold dear,
deep conversation,
neuroscience
and psychology
discussion
that are enlightening,

so much more
then mere flesh,
or hastened breathed
burnt by
desirous men
and their
unwanted intrusions.

There is dark art
and a heart yearning
for the burning
of an honest
and caring love,
one that runs
from safe fields
searching desperately
for the person they need
to protect
because to do otherwise
would destroy their life.

These photographs
are little lies
that we put out in the world,
smiles that hide
possible fast
or very slow
suicides,
especially if
there is
no one
ever around
to ask
“Are you ok?”
and if not
then to ask
“why?”
Daniel K Jan 2019
Flower to my eyes;
Invisible to yours.
Excitement I yearn to share;
Your countenance is indifferent.
I don’t understand why
But you’re not the one
To tell me.
The Poetic Fairy Jan 2019
Your sadness
your joy
your laughter
your tears
your hope
and your fears

give them to me
and I'll show you mine

let me get to know
the real you
the one you are
when no one's watching
when you are all alone
the you
you are
for you
alone

because when you can't be
the you
you are
I can't give you
the me
I am.
Ian Robinson Jan 2019
To share things
In a boundless way
to bring a couple together closer
no matter what is

THAT is Intimacy.
Amy H Jan 2019
how does a woman tell
about awakening?
the burning in her breast
the fire that lights
the embers long smouldering
‘neath years of stress
and fight
and proving;
when finally she esteems herself
enough
and sees the lines and curves
for wisdom
wealth
and birth.

knowing her power, real
allowing her to feel
that freedom waits
where shame has fade away.
she knows the joy
of being
this woman-

having this form,
the center of creation
in her body and her soul
to share or keep-
is like a dance.

dance alone she may
or with you

you’ll know her
by the passion of her touch
her laugh
her joy
her zeal for life
when two become one
if first
she knows herself
and so do you
The only way to pure love is through the self. A woman who sees her value is a treasure to those who know her.
Glenn Currier Dec 2018
Writing poetry is an exercise
in making myself rise
from ordinary preoccupation
to enter the realm of creation.

When I share it I am revealing
thoughts, doings, and feeling,
so I need not hesitate to share
or bore those who care.

A poem might not be art
but it is a letter from my heart
more than a quick posting
or social media boasting.

So if you do not receive a sealed letter
from me in the mail, a poem is better.
It is a moment of being bold
of sharing a small slice of my soul.

Getting a poem from a poet or friend
is an honor for me and I will attend
and count it a privilege worth prizing
a noble moment of the creator’s rising.
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