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Zywa Dec 2024
Foreigners test us:

are we really as caring --


as we think we are?
Chivalric romance "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight" (1380, England, anonymous)
Novel "The Green Knight" (1993, Iris Murdoch), chapter 4 Eros - Aleph calls Peter Mir 'the Green Knight'

Collection "Unspoken"
dogslinwriter Dec 2024
meeting you was serendipity
it's practical to move on
live my life
focus on the task at hand
yet my soul yearns for you
and you embody me
like you and I are the same being

a search has come to an end
our souls rejoice
while the bodies sleep in cold beds
I do not understand the loss
of you (or me), dear stranger

So I simply write about
how my soul yearns for you
and how painful it must be
for you to not know the language
of our souls (of love)
amelie Nov 2024
i look at you and i see nothing
i don't see the person i would've last year

i don't see the hands
that held mine to let me know you loved me even when you couldn't say it

i don't see the eyes
i once said were my favorite color

i don't see the lips
used to speak the sweetest words and light a fire in me

i don't see the arms
that once held me to keep me safe and warm

i don't see the person
that was mine

you are a stranger
and while i thought it would never happen
maybe it is for the better
Afrodita Nestor Nov 2024
I miss the weight of "I love you"
The gentle pull, the soft breakthrough,
A phrase once whispered, raw, sincere,
Now scattered wide, to all who hear

I cast it out, a fragile charm,
A whispered warmth, a healing balm
To strangers, friends, and passing souls,
To mend the gaps, to patch the holes

It’s not a lie, but not the same,
It lacks the spark, the tender flame
Yet still, it blooms in passing hearts,
A love reborn in scattered parts

Perhaps in giving, I will find,
The echoes of a heart aligned
Until that day, I’ll let it flow,
To bloom in places I may not know
Madyselry Nov 2024
Love, the word I used to hate
Bitterness was sweet
Not until dozen of candies
Tasty bounds becomes great
Mind becomes imaginative
Fantasizing everywhere.
As I turn stranger to my lover.
Written during pandemic
Ember Nov 2024
you are a stranger,
my vessel.

i see you,
stranger,
in the mirror.

and i am another,
taken up residence
in your psyche.

stranger of mine,
i stir in your skull.
this is what i feel like on a daily basis. detached from my flesh vessel, a stranger to myself. is there a name for that? /genq
Peter Garrett Sep 2024
Hold my beer
While I get some whisky
And become a stranger to
Everyone I've ever known
I swear to God I'll never drink again...
Zywa Sep 2024
We were here before;

then, like blind people, we didn't --


notice each other.
Short story "September in the Rain" (2024, Marijke Schermer), in the NRC of September 5th, 2024

Collection "Loves Tricks Gains Pains in the 20s"
louella Aug 2024
don’t be a stranger he said to me,
strange how i feel like a stranger
speaking my own words, telling my own stories.
strange how i feel paralyzed,
strange how my muscles don’t move out of habit,
strange how i’m lonely in my own mind.
don’t be a stranger he said to me,
even stranger that i feel grateful
for something so minuscule.
strange how once i was lost
and couldn’t comprehend being found.
even stranger how someone’s once kind words became daggers,
myself being the one to make them as such.
don’t be a stranger he said to me,
the strangest thing since i feel so weak.
every week,
a reminder that my thoughts aren’t pretty, my love not craved.
the strangest thing is i cannot carry the world,
as silly as it sounds, i know.
the strangest thing is i expect superhuman out of myself
when i expect nothing out of everyone else.
don’t be a stranger he said to me,
don’t be a passerby on the road, putting your head down as you move by.
don’t be afraid to show someone you love them,
don’t be afraid to take life by the reins and make yourself matter,
don’t be embarrassed of the love you are giving, of the kindness you are gifting,
don’t be alone when you know someone deeply cares for your calls,
don’t shove and sulk and make a mess,
don’t make yourself feel sorry for yourself,
don’t die alone,
don’t exit with silence,
don’t regret what you feel,
don’t think your life was anyone’s mistake,
don’t be a stranger.
please, i beg.
sometimes every word is difficult to speak, sometimes it hurts too bad to speak at all.

8/30/24
Antonia Aug 2024
today I drank my coffee alone
they sky was grey
it was neither hot nor cold
the cafe was noisy
and my latte was strong

today I briefly felt alive
a stranger talked to me
he was Hungarian,
but nice
we had a laugh
and I looked over his CV

today I was in town
and the barista smiled at me

my hair was messy
my brain was foggy
but we had a good time
I, my coffee and me.
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