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I think of you, and my soul aches.
It shouldn’t. We ended our duet
long ago, we were never right
for each other, our puzzle pieces
just didn’t match together.
But I hear your name, beautiful
like the melismas of an aria, or
your smile in a stray selfie
you let slip into my messages,
like water seeping between
the planks of a vessel,
and my heart races again.

You’re so close to me, but so far,
like a projection on the mist:
Whenever I reach out to feel you
you drift away, your words thinning
or your image fading. I find
myself questioning the anger,
the heartache. Is it cheating
to miss feelings I banished
long ago? Is it love to remember
and imagine what could have
been if only my will were strong?
Perhaps. Perhaps not.

But like a siren singing in the fog,
I hear you call to the part of me
that does not know how to swim.
Abby M Dec 2
A guitar has six strings
That when struck as one note
Can elicit a sound
Far beyond a mere throat
Yet a voice can sink ships
Or at least it's been said
Can a six-stringed guitar
Claim one person that's dead?
Kyra Nov 28
I think the ocean was the true lurer to death

And sirens were just the women who followed the oceans song

And embraced Poseidon’s crushing love

~k.hem
JRF Nov 15
The day feels unbalanced.
The night feels haunted.
Faces, changed by sodden tears.
Eyes awake but no light behind them.
Everything is switching, on and off.
Friends fall close, some fall away.
Remember them when you speak of them one day.
Stained by morning guilt as the sunrises, touched by shining silk.
A web weaved by the tip of your tongue.
Locked out of life, floating away.
Days float by in a sea of disarray.
One day, on the street.
I'll be brave enough to say hey.

By that time we will be too far away.
Siren, she lures and enchants.
I hate you
I hate what you are
I hate what you do
I hate that you make me care

I hate that I love you
I hate that I still want you

You are a siren
You make me love you yet
You make me die inside

But of course
You don't know this
You can't know this
You won't know this
Erik Whalen Oct 8
Cast my heart into the sea
For she doth dwell below
And captive my heart she bring to thee
For you bring my heartstrings to bow

You showed me the beauty of her flowers
Her name is scattered in the stars
She split the heavens from other powers
The nebulae show of its scars

Her prison doth lay far beneath
Only fools dare question her capture
For freedom, for this goddess, if so bequeathed
Will lead your world to rapture
'
No doubt you know this, siren sweet
Who led me to her tomb
Before her plan's ends finally meet
We'll have set our plan to bloom

Like moth to flame we caged her well
Though influence is a powerful force
Should she be freed, Edish cultures shall rise
And change history's course
A little poem foreshadowing a storyline for a fantasy world I've been creating.
julianna Sep 24
“Woe is me, for I make friendships sail.”
The siren girl looked at her tail.
“Woe is me, for the relationships flee.”
She’s sullen, for alone she be.
No matter how she sings the song, the sailors hear it all so wrong.
She wishes to be out of sea and thinks
That legs will make her free,
But oceans will belong to sirens and sirens to the sea.
julianna Sep 24
I like to sing.
Does that make me a siren?
I’ll lure you in, but if you don’t respond, I’ll quiet down my siren song.
I’ll swim away and won’t try again until you’re in need of a friend.
Just ask me and I’ll sing to you in hopes of making us forever,
But most times they just sail away and I’m left swimming here whichever.
I like to sing, and you can too,
But a sailor makes a siren through.
Again I’ll sing my siren song and I will sing them all to you.

The ocean's wave rolls
and beats repeatedly
carving a way into the soul
of this precipice
foaming at the mouth

no, wait....

that's just your tongue
coated in a miasma of
a siren song
you ******* liar  

sunbathing on my pyre
the whole town now congregates around
with devil-red
containers of gasoline
while your devil-red
lips act the fire

Only the clever witches
survived the trials

the whole town now dances around
feasting on the lotus petals
that root in the palm of your hand

look at them move
locked in each others hands
chanting
"This will bring peace"
while they nod and agree

"Pour more gasoline"
escapes between those sharp teeth

happiness is a moveable feast
at least your eating
like a queen

go ahead and **** the marrow
out of these innocent bones
tomorrow I will be gone

once I thought of you as Ithaca
now realize that these
are Troy's stones

it's time to sail back home.
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