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Hanging on
                    by
                        a
                           t
                             h
                               r        
                                 e        
                                   a                    
                                     d
Originally, I had a girl hanging from a string that was connected to the letter T in "thread". Here it is: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1NbRwONsQZhoLePaaCoE5jJEbzvZ06bmA

Or if that does not work..
Nikos Kyriazis Oct 2018
Scented by amorous
reflections of the past

I do not dare
to go closer

Often i repent
about keeping it still

A bearer of dreary hues
that imprisons the now
and drains its mirth

The sojourn of that drape
is coming to an end.....

There will be a time
that we'll stand above and laugh
for the molten strands of the past
Jamil Massa Aug 2017
Me and the drizzle
Are two different things
Who loves every strand of your hair.

Me and the moon
Are two different things
Who hopes to fall in the pool of your eyes.

Me and the air shiver
Are two different things
Who wants to marry all your embrace.
Dua Hal Berbeda

Aku dan gerimis
adalah dua hal berbeda
yang mencintai setiap helai rambutmu.

Aku dan rembulan
adalah dua hal berbeda
yang berharap terjatuh dalam kolam matamu.

Aku dan gigil udara
adalah dua hal berbeda
yang ingin menikahi segenap dekapmu.
Seanathon May 2017
Ours is like a strand of yarn
Stretched across a narrow gap
Though the wind berates
And the rain pours out in the summer storm
It will not break, it will endure
But perhaps in time will sag and fray
As if we let it so to go
Or even chose to cut it down
Because you have your own phone lines now
Made of woven steel and unbroken arms
As we were just a childhood yarn
Or a single strand between two hearts
Perhaps one day...most likely. I'll be a memory In your mind.
trace me back
to myself
trace yourself
on my back
I will back yourself
upon a wall
and dance
beneath your waterfall
all your tears
water my soul
all your fears
I hold
sway from afar
melt in your stall
your full, sensual lips
are all I ask for
my planted feet
my well-known wall
your rippling being
I admire to hold
a poet may write of
'your blonde strands of gold'
a poem insults you
for material is sold
my love
rare is not gold
my love
you are not gold
but whatever you are
I am your fort
Laura Enright Dec 2016
I sit at a wooden bench
faded and etched with words of old love
who was here before me, and before them?

My eyes are thrown out to the sea
wrinkled blanket of green and blue.
That knot in my head has been soothed

by the salted air and the sun
and the delicate pebbles beneath my feet.
And I am grateful to be here.

There's something so beautiful
about this beach with the pulsing and hum
of a city so close

and everything that this city holds
that you, or I, don't know.
HelloPeople Sep 2015
How long can an affection last?
How long can one ride a jeep?
How many times can a person shift from a jeep to another?

Would you ride along with me?
Would you accompany me?
If you do, would you sit beside me?

I felt you beside me...a strand of hair, perhaps
I wonder if you felt my goosebumps;
I'm rubbing my arms for you not to feel it...

All of those were mere imagination,
It's a long shot
How can you be beside me if you were the one driving?
How could've I felt you, if I never rode shotgun

Lastly, how would you feel me if I'm still riding the previous jeep;
And I only saw you from afar and thought, perhaps we could be...something amazing, something beautiful, something that could last
jeep is a public transportation vehicle
Valora Brave Aug 2015
I unpacked your boxes too quickly.
I exposed the whiteness of your thighs
freckled by the reddish-brown hairs
I uncovered the wrinkles in your blue iris
the lies and tears behind your front teeth
evenly crooked

I wanted your words to flutter from your mind
but they dropped from your throat to the floor
I wanted your laughter in your core to be kind
but it came from a shallow, envious drawer

I pulled strands and veins out of boxes
Found bundles and tangles
that I assumed should be unraveled
but when I pulled and twisted one straight,
you left in your car with a crunch in the gravel
Drove straight into the arms of
Malbec wine
at low rise tables with one chair,
an excerpt from a novel bent at the spine
and the sweater you never let me wear

I drank from the pint glass you brought home for me
and it wasn't a statement.
I wore no mask.
I simply sipped.
It's only meaning to transport water to my lips
Calmly, coating my belly
So slowly I'd wait
Imagining water burning like *****
Barreling down my throat
like an interstate

I wanted it back
the feeling of feeling
the fear that walks with revealing
the love, the artist, and the lunatic
all cooked together and left to steep

I pulled out my own strands
the ones anchored deep.
I worked endlessly to straighten
You wrapped yourself in my veins
to tightly
You were trapped in the bundle
so you ran, then came a stumble
forgetting that I was anchored too
and so you pulled me right down with you.

And I left you there
with your tearful stare
I bunched up these strands
and laid out my demands
I carried them off, the tangled mess
You once announced was yours to hold
but you overestimated yourself
and watched me become cold
A block of ice, you could never melt
you were not all, you were not my wealth
you were only the weight I felt.
Samantha May 2015
I was clutching on tattered vines
Praying fervently to all that are divine
To let it hold
Please make it hold

I was gripping tightly on my last strand of faith (I'm slipping)
Just let me hold
Let my life hold

Then you pulled at me
And I went crashing
            d
                  o
                       w
                              n
So here I am with a shattered heart, a broken soul and a tattered gown.
This is about how you're barely holding on without going mad and then yearning for some guy's love turns out to be your breaking point. It's titled Stark ***** because I wanted to write something about vulnerability and here it is.
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