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n Feb 12
But this is not ideal.
I don’t fancy him.
There’s no spark for me.
I admire him. I have love for him. But I don’t fancy him.
I find myself wanting to fancy him.
Due to selfish, superficial, unemotional motivations I give him a try.
He’s in ecstasy. Beyond pleased.
I’m in two minds. I’m kissing him.
But why?
Why am I kissing him?
I don’t fancy him.
This is so ****** up.
I tried mum. Honestly.
Giving a nice boy a chance for once backfired.
Sarah Strack Feb 9
It came to pass that in a fiery blaze
You were born
Little being with the WORLD against you
Tiny spark
With only the tools of your own making
Rock and stick
Teeth for talking and hands for creating
So unlike
Yet so similar to those before you
I felt it
The shudders and shaking at your coming
The whole WORLD
Pausing for a second to stop and stare
Baby hands
Reaching towards the heavens to catch the sun
A face with
Intelligent eyes, that burned like your path
What are you
And what has your coming brought to the WORLD?
A poem from my chapbook, The child that ate the WORLD
He was as bright as the sparks
dancing above the flames,
He burnt amidst the darkness,
Singeing those who were caught
In a trance,
He was mesmerising and magical,
Exciting and ephemeral.

I daren’t breathe, or,
I could ***** out his light.
rgz Feb 1
the tiniest spark
can light the way in the dark
do you have a flint?
an actual haiku
and i resisted the urge to rhyme the whole thing
Pallavi Jan 16
I have lost the mark of love,
Dripping emotions
and the spark of dove.
I have lost the warmth and connection,
Kisses,hugs and all the affection.
I have lost the time we spent,
the farms,the places and the parks we went.
My love is concentrated, dwell and brew,
I have lost myself in you.
t h e


the essence

e   x   p   e   l

a l l    t o x i n s
a n d   t h a t   w h i c h
n o   l o n g e r
s e r v e s   y o u
Helena Wayte Dec 2018
Hands outstretched in the dark,
What was I searching for?
I have been blinded by a spark.

A touch and a tingle.
A tinge and a sizzle.

Our worlds don't cross,
Like snowflakes in a pensive midnight sky,
Moths on a street-lit summer night.

Parallel planes,
parallel pains.

The sun won't smile,
The stars don't sparkle,
The moon was a dimming spotlight.

Sparks fade out and crumble.
Hearts played out, we fumble.

I have to speak soon,
Or I'll lose you to the gloom.
I just don't know how to-
Sometimes, it's better to follow your impulses.
Kit Scott Dec 2018
once when i was a child
i sat in a field
surrounded by woods

and watched sparks leap from the fire to my clothes

i remember them dancing
and stinging skin hot
tiny freckle burns
dotting my arms

like stars

i remember the smoke
rising into the sky
and curling like a cat
caressing the darkness

as it twisted upwards and away away

the wood broke and the
scent of elderflower
filled me to the brim
with heady wild-smoke

and i remember thinking
big eyes filled with fire
my mouth just open and breathing the heat in

i want to run through that fire

to the other side within

i have always felt a particular connection to the smell of woodsmoke and elderflower due to frequent encounters with both - particularly together - as a child. so much so that the barest scent of either sends me spiralling into another mind.
Acina Joy Dec 2018
I think this is what it is, something short yet bright in my chest. Too quick to be named, yet felt with my entire being. It thrums inside of my heart, natural as sunlight through window curtains, as secretive and cheeky as a grin. This is one of the types of happiness I know.

The quick ones that make you feel you are on top of the world, despite the state of everything which says otherwise.

It is but a spark.
yeah, i just had a conversation with my best friend, and i don't know, i was with her yesterday, but just every bit of word that i exchange with her makes me eternally happy.
Amanda Nov 2018
Gaze full of hurt
Prophecy now unclear
Terrified of breaking you
More than I appear

I may seem composed
Unbothered to the untrained eye
It's destroying me within, believe
To be the one saying goodbye

I never played the field
Not used to being the one
Who steals hearts, smashes them
As soon as they stop having fun

I see shapes through loves blindfold
The sharpness of your rotten core
I am deciding loneliness
Is better than our hearts raw and sore

I know demeanor is cold
On a leash keep emotions felt
Shallow breath gives away
That my adoration is starting to melt

When calamity ultimately manifests
Into a mess you'd rather hide
Disruptive indiscretions occur
Bruises are born inside

A different suffering spreads
Polluting narrow veins
Morphing my blood dark and slow-moving
Spiraling down my arm red drains

I wish I could resuscitate the spark
Then I wouldn't feel so guilty and bad
It doesn't matter how we got here
What matters is that we can't go back
When the past knocks, don't answer. It has nothing new to say.
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