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I'm somewhere in the middle.
Forget-me-nots in a pistol
tripping on thought tangents
playing a fist full.

Feeling my teeth caught,
biting deep in the gristle.

Seething a heat,
not green
not at bay to the whistle

my impatience is simple
I'm awaiting the gavel
And I'm somewhere in the middle
I fear the venom and rattle
and play the innocent *******.

beginning to wait
to watch the ending begin

approaching the line

I'm Here.

Watching the moment again
feeling cold on the fringe
seeing it blow in the wind

watching it pass
stopping to gasp
at how fast it was stolen again

seeing the difference,
between a fold and a bend

Peeling the image apart
and rolling bones for the gold
on the spin

Hoping next time
I'm not a line up of bowling pins

sitting in wait
asking the past
for a day to do over again

I'm somewhere in the middle.
Sam Dec 7
"Somewhere", spoke the grey lips in the wall.
Somewhere before sunrise,
before the first bird crows to dawn
and the apathetic are yet to uncurl
the grit that gathers like dust
between the fold of shallow eyes.
"Somewhere". A derogatory term.
Their humanity bears no resemblance to us
as skin and bone the only price to pay
for "unpeople".
Cities made of paper,
soaked in a drought. Somewhere East.
Or maybe South?
Somewhere far from the guilt
that laden our stomach with lead.
So alien to home, allotted just enough frames
for you to feel how fortuitous;
but not enough so the screams
swallow your evening meal and you swat the sound of flies
pouring through the static of your transient box.
Haylin Dec 7
Somewhere along the way,

We changed
Connor Nov 29
The metro station caged the slumbering metropolis
From this dingy mid-March town fridged in January wind
A ******* clad explorer marches in mellow strides
All the way to you
To back the lover's whisper spoken by static selfies
With fleshy whiffs, a borrowed jacket and a gawky face
Blind to but maybe fiddly pepples on the ground.

Down at a backstreet diner, its locked out doorstep,
A hygge cover made for two,
Humming low is the city's nocturnal remains' dubstep
Coming from an illuminating exit,
Luring the busy hands and buckled excitement, whereto ----

Whereto the vacant main street glides them
With the at ease traffic,
Down loops of everextending branches
I followed you
To the roundabout between
two surrounding glassware towers
Where gleaming sparks ***** on each other's windows
Divining themselves by lighting up pavements, entrance signs
and glooming heavens.

Corridors, lawned with clutters from refurbishments,
Lead to glassrooms of suspended business meetings,
And that cozy cavern,
Where you flump into a swivel chair.
Your inhibited expression unwinds
As my curious caress explores
The damp torso slumping deeper into the pliable seat.
And a devoted twitch of ecstasy, blossom unexpectedly
On your face,
Which already shied itself away from its audience,
Doubtlessly, for way too many times ----
A candid sight I could only cache from you,
Because I intend to see it again, your effortless reaction.
The sarcoma-like lump left uncut at the bottom,
Wrinkled like wind waves in a Ukiyo-e drawing.
I scoop the saline ripple, so you can taste it beforehand.
Our bodies started gravitating
onto each other or all over the place.
And lips, they startlingly perched,
out of wills, like magnets
For the very first time.

I've been feeling patient.
And I love taking my time with you
Maxim Keyfman Nov 17
autumn rain autumn
somewhere on the streets somewhere
on the pavement somewhere on the arches
both in squares and near monuments
and near the boulevards and near the square

and what is that I see again
and I see the grave fog again
really again again is he
it comes it's about autumn rain again
swims like a fish that was yesterday

Amanda Nov 17
If there are other
Dimensions that means we are
Together somewhere
I'd choose you, in any lifetime, in any version of reality. I'd find you and I'd choose you.
Rose Oct 29
My nose is in these pages for my mind wishes to wander
To a place where faces no longer sneer insults like spit
These fantasies hold more for me than these blank walls
I want more than these crowded streets of faces I know
what a feeling to know, dreaming and wishing are such wonderful things. just don't forget to get out there and do something about it.
Time is burning like a candle, the flame dancing next to my bed.
And, somewhere in my mind I am searching, 'round the many corners in my head.
And, somewhere in my mind I'm seeing, lovers, ghosts of who we used to be.
And, somewhere in the night I smile, as I rescue moments from my memory.
Somewhere in the night I'm racing, reaching out to catch your falling star.
Grasping at it with eager hands, only to drop my own fragile heart.
This poem still haunts me. Every time that I read it.
It all happened. every bit of it.
It was good that it did. I am better for it.
Take me somewhere,
Better than this.
I'm ready to go.
I'm ready to run.
I've got the scissors
To clip my leash.
I've got the key to
My cage.
I'm ready to pack
My past
And set my sights
On the future.
I'm ready to live
For now.
I'm ready for the freedom.
Let me run.
Take me somewhere,
Better than this.
Bryan Sep 23
They say go see the world
Embrace the unexpected
the unknown.

They told me take the trip
the future is waiting
your steps

I agreed
packed my bags
and flew

The funny thing is
after exploring and
I still feel

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