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Havran Mar 2016
"In a way I am the aftermath,
I
am
all
that remains."
Havran Mar 2016
"Before you,
the days were good.
With you,
the days were better.
Without you,
the days will never be the same."
Havran Feb 2016
Let me be the minor setback,
the late appointment,
the sudden no crossing sign.
Let me be August rain,
October nights,
and April days.
Let me be the seashore,
the comfy chair,
the grass under your feet.
Let me be a room full of books,
let me be the roof over your head,
let me be the first time you see snow
let me be that feeling once you go
to
wherever
you
want
to
be.
Macy Opsima Feb 2016
It was March 5th when we first met. I never imagined you as someone who I will miss because I never thought you would go away. Today is February 13 and I'm missing you more than ever.

Can we have those long talks about our height difference back? Can we regain the jokes we told each other at 3:45 in the morning? But most importantly, can I have you back?

It never occured to me how much I'm missing you until the mark of the second year of your disappearance is approaching. I never told anyone but I'm still hoping your name pops up in my phone. I'm still aching to see you alive again. You're still the name that I put as my passcode.

I just want you to come back again.
Macy Opsima Feb 2016
I am a poet because of you.
It's the way your being
delivered a tidal wave of
poetic awakening to my
once dull veins.

Your lips watered
the flowers in my tongue
that were once called prose
but now they developed into poems.

Your fingers latched
perfectly into mine and
your nerves reacted to my nerves so right
and in that moment I knew our hands  were designed for each other.

And although
your tongue left my tongue
and your hand left my hand,
the diabolical mixture of your blissful and painful memories
kept the flowers in my tongue alive.

Soon enough, the flowers
crawled through my arms and hands,
begging me to write
the poetry that they bring.

You will never read this
but I forever thank you,
for I will always be a poet
because of you.
Havran Feb 2016
"If you were a storm, may I be your wind,
so I may be with you wherever you will go.
If you were the moon, may I be your poet,
and I will write about you in all the words
that I know."
Macy Opsima Jan 2016
You turned your back on me and let the slowly closing door swallow the image of you walking away. That was the last time we talked. That was the last time you look at me. And I swear to any astrologist in this world that that is how the sun sets.
Macy Opsima Jan 2016
why
I saw you at the grocery store today and you asked me if you still have my heart.



I said no.



But if you silence the world and if you stare deep into my eyes, you can hear my heart say the contrary.



It's sad that you do still have my heart. I never gave it to anyone else, I never took it back. It's sad that you are still in there. You will always be the center of my love. You never left. You still own every inch of my love.



And I hate it.
Havran Jan 2016
~
" I am a ghost of sorts; a compilation of what ifs, an abundance of could've beens."
Mariel Ramirez Jan 2016
You are a continental force. You are something to be reckoned with. You are a wild thing. You are a dust storm, made of the ashes after all that’s been said and done. You are a valley of regrets that has learned to laugh.  You are what rose from everything that’s fallen. You were not meant to be left alone.
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