smc Feb 13
tiny jewels
adorn
H E R
finger

the ones
w     e
found
together
in peru
    brazil
  colorado

and she laughs like
fairies dance around her
perfect
hollow
soul

she knows
what she did
to what was once
someone
else's
life
write
we art
watch
my words
they are
never
mine
are
we
there yet
who knows
we don't
?


























...
..
.
she hurt
my
...
..
.
Poetic T Jan 30
I asked a thief
           to steal my heart,
            but was rejected.

For the thief said
      it had been already stolen.

Misconstruing what I meant,
   I wanted it stolen back..
But the thief said, what was given
                             cant be taken back.

Looking into my eyes,
        pulling something from beneath.
Giving me theirs, on this night you
                                have stolen mine.

That which I wanted stolen,
                          given freely back.
The thief no longer a heart taker,
    now proving there the love of my life.
Simpathi Jan 16
Like a thief in the night,
It steals all of my things,
Searching for joy,
Parts never to be seen.

Like a thief waiting to kill,
It waits for its chance,
Not moving a muscle,
Completely still.

Like a thief in my life,
It steals my character,
It ruins my sight,
Clouding reasons behind why I try.

Like a thief in desperation,
It will steal them for ransom,
Being susceptible to the temptation,
Unaware of the reigning phantom.

Like a thief of my heart,
It begins its deception,
Always taking part,
Destroying perception.

Like a thief of the cold,
It makes you unable, old,
Instead of bluffing you’re forced to fold.
Wishing of poverty being foretold.

Like a thief in the day,
It turns your vibrant colors
Into,
Gray.
We all have a thief inside us...
Samuel Hoffmann Dec 2017
Maybe,
If a pear believed,
That despite its bumps and bruises,
And brownish-green skin,
That it was beautiful.
Maybe,
It would smile too.
Here's a poem I wrote before winter break. Catch me on the mountain snowboarding and enjoy!
Celeste Briefs Nov 2017
everything
has fallen down,
empty pieces
in a shattering
storm;
all the while
collect the shards
and stolen clusters
of truth
and words

everywhere
I look, I see
a thousand eyes
looking up at
me;
only one pair
belongs to you,
they are mine,
they are
true
alasia Nov 2017
How long will this last? Layering word over word un able to erase you from my book, forever stuck on this chapter, reliving you:reliving losing you. Trying to move on feels impossible when you are inked into the pages of my heart, dictating my story with your absence. I chose forgetting you but you are in his eyes and his smile and I try to envision you holding him but your face is fading under the pressure to remember you. I can not speak of you with casualty when you are a casualty, a cruel mind consuming thought eating me alive at the sound of your name. I wonder if you thought “how long will this last?” as you propelled towards non existence. I wonder if you writhed in pain or were gone before you could form a single thought. You said I was your family and I feel the weight of being your family as I cry these guilted tears that should not belong to me. He has watched me cry with the same fixation as shadows on the wall that they say are you, I am haunted by every stolen kiss, bounce, and moment he learns something new: I have stolen these from you. Held him when you could not, cried in fear of losing her when the screams ceased. White walls and beeps of hospital bells I clench my fist until the nurse tells me he is born and healthy and I can not be joyous because I can’t hear her anymore, how is she when can I hold her and I feel wrong, feel as though he is a gift and I am too selfish to be grateful, reminded of the night I drank myself to tears and screamed I didn’t want him, we couldn’t do this without you: and I’m still not sure we can. He was born healthy but full of holes we cannot mend. She tries but she is sure she’s not enough as she pins your hat above his crib and tapes your pictures to the walls and plays your music as his lullabies. Of course I love him. But I miss you, too. I am sick of being consumed with death, surrounded by loss, motivated by anger, you left mid sentence and no amount of rewrites spell out the right goodbye. You had only good things coming and I can’t help being plagued by these thoughts, the ones that swear to me that I should have been the one to die. How long will this last?
Naming the girl sadness.
Diary of Jane Nov 2017
I see you look at me
Then look away instantly
and I follow your lead
afraid it would turn into something more
and we cannot let that be.
Sooraz Bylipudi Nov 2017
Fall is the oak tree
adorned in stolen sunsets,
yawning out morning stretches
on the block corner.
Shaking, swaying, freeing
sun rays caught in its breadth,
teased by a wind that
does not bite but nips like
a curious pup at faded denim.

Children gather under crimson canopy
hoisting backpacks
full of anticipation.
A hundred times before,
a hundred times more.

Fall is the oak tree--
branches of fearful firsts,
leaves of glowing hearth.
Eliah SolRae Oct 2017
I remember that time,
Long long ago, I was a sea, overflowing with Love.
Our life was a fairytale out of a book,
But then it happened, it came down in a crash.
I could not bare to look.
They took you away, that terrible day.

I had an awful feeling that day, I really did that day.
They stole you, because of me. I think about it all the time.
I am old, sad, and broken. Everyday I look,
Sometimes I just try to forget our love.
I float up, but then it comes upon me, with a crash.
I’ve tried everything, even hiding my sorrows in a book.

I live still, I am as fragile as the pages of a very old manuscript, possibly a book.
I wander, searching for you, every day.
In town, on the rocky crags, I listen and hear the waves crash.
I stand there and think, a long, long time.
I have a shriveled heart, I have no love.
I gaze at the sea, it remind me of you and me, it hurts me, I can’t look.

But I do it again I look,
My thoughts change, it looks like a scene out of a book.
In this story, nothing hurts a man, here forever is love.
In this life everything is good Every night, every day,
I think about that one time.
I was free... I turned and walked home. You can hear the faintest sound of the waves crash.

In my dream that night, I twist and turn, bang and crash,
I wake up with a jolt, all around me I look.
I swore I could hear your voice, a scream of agony, a plea of help, Preserved by time.
I can’t sleep, I can’t get you off my mind. I turn on a light and read a book.
I read the rest of the night, until the break of day.
The book drowns my thought of our love.

I wander without thought, through the park. I see a young couple and I think young love…
I get dizzy, all my thoughts fall upon my head with an ear-splitting crash.
I mutter, walk and turn without thinking twice, the whole day,
Without knowing I walk, the sun is setting. I raise my sorry head and look,
It is the sunset over the sea, a picture of love, a story out of a book.
A weight lifts from my shoulders, I close my eyes, I won’t let it happen this time.

“Oh burning night sky, oh mother of love up I look
Let me escape, set me free from my prison of pages in a book,
The agony is too great, set me free, it is my time.”
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