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sixpoetry Feb 23
it was a cold winter day when love left
suitcase in hand
messily packed in a rush
never predicting the tragedy of loss she would endure

it was i who was prepared
broken words running endless circles around my mind
suitcase in hand
neat and pristine

i was the tragedy

haunted memories running endless circles around my mind
perfection tainted by the poison seeping deep

surface level loving
digging deeper
how was i to know
this well
was a grave

but oh how perfect love was
a captivating collision of beauty and pain
shards of her
plastering every part of me

but oh how perfect we were
love’s extended visit straight out of a storybook
i was the one to open the door
what cruel trick of fate sanctioned me to close it

to see love was not to know love
but once you knew her
to see her was to see perfection

but for a messy human to see perfection
was nothing more than a road
diverged into a thousand paths
all cursed with the same ending

heartbreak is inevitable in a world of hurt
someone must walk down the road
how tragic that love must bear the burden of others’ self-inflicted pain
constantly giving herself away to those not stable enough to hold her still

oh how perfect she is
how trusting of the untrustable
how caring of the careless
how loving of the unlovable

and how lucky i was to meet love
halfway down the road
Romina Shyle Sep 2015
I remember how we first met,
It's a blurred image of you and the rain
Right now the things I love the most.
I remember our first fight,
you, yelling at the top of your lungs
And me,  crying my eyes out on the other side of the phone
I remember our first kiss,
I still feel bad for pulling you close so I could kiss you forever,
But you said you liked it, so it's okay.
And then I remember every time we broke up
Every broken heart, every broken moment, every shattered piece of heart
I also remember me always coming back and you always forgiving me.
This time had to be different, not the good kind of different

They say time heals everything, and I will get over you
You were the most beautiful shade of blue, but blue to me is just a color.
Of course I will get over you
Over your hugs and kisses, because I never stayed up late
thinking of how time stops every time we touch.
Of course I will get over you
You were the only reason I loved writing poetries
But poetries never meant anything to me, anyway.
Of course I will get over you,
I will eventually get over you.
And I think I know the perfect time when to

I will get over you soon,
As soon as I start believing Emma Bovary was a total *****,
And Jessie J is a bad singer,
And poetries are just words connected to one another,
And Sleeping at Last is so not the best music band ever.
I will get over you as soon as I start hating rain,
Or think that black is the most beautiful color,
Or just claiming that black is a color to begin with.
As soon as I start being all passionate about studying Biology
Or stupid trigonometry.
I will get over you, just like I'll get over flowers,
Or Sasuke, or Zuko, or English.

They think I can't get over you?
I will get over you.
You still remind me of Saturn and Venus having a baby together,
That would have probably looked like you,
But they are just planets,
I don't like planets.
So I will get over you.

Just like that prince got over that beautiful girl he danced with until midnight,
Just like the sun gets over the moon every morning when she dies,
Just like Shakespeare got over his lover or Narcissus got over himself.
It's not that hard to get over you, come on.
I will get over you, as soon as I stop feeling.
I will get over you, okay?
Just not now.
Not today.
Not ever.
Daniel Thorne Mar 2015
It's the snow...
That falls around us...
That takes our shame, and leaves us bare.
It's the cold...
That drives us forward...
For we know the spring is coming.

I'm tired inside, I'm dying,
And nobody knows my pain,
I've tried, oh I've tried,
To last until the melting rain,
Till summer comes to move us on from the past,
And give us rest because we are running fast.

It's the snowdrifts...
That pull us down inside...
That heavy weight, of death and guilt.
It's the frigid winds...
That bite our hearts...
And leave us to repent ourselves.

I'm tired inside, I'm dying,
And nobody knows my pain,
I've tried, oh I've tried,
To last until the melting rain,
Till summer comes to move us on from the past,
And give us hope because now we're sleeping at last.
Tribute to Sleeping At Last.

— The End —