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Josephine Wilea Mar 2020
icy blue eyes
fixed just below
the camera

almost
but not quite
calling me home.
Yuri Swallows Sep 2018
The chilly wind brushed against my cheeks.
As the light left blinding streaks.
I realised we were both looking up at the same sky.
As we both let out a fascinated cry.
The dusty scent tickled my nose.
As the droplet landed on my wilting rose.
The crystal clear patterns blurred the outside.
Leaving me alone in silence with all my worries aside.
The dusty drops drowned the noisy city.
As if it was trying to leave me alone for a brief moment out of pity.
Drip drop
Ara Jan 2017
?
How sticky you are -
A-filth-potential-mess
and how untimely you shine on my face

Shiny bright lines
slapped on with red a trace
just visible for the entire human race

Your sense of style
oh how it makes me cringe
why must you show this disgrace?

I plead, it's not my fault
Its more of an assault
from these **** emotions
and tear-streaks
These poems are coming out to be so ordinary and basic. Where has my creativity gone?
Yellow , glowing
Softness , soothing
There . . . never a sound

Somewhere between
A cloud and ground
Between lips and thought

Somewhere , where there is a nowhere
Somehow when we don't know-how
Somewhat of an after thought

As silently as a whisper
From an owl
In the darkest reaches

Of loneliness hidden in the
Corners of sorrow
Hide tiny tears

Painful tears
Too small to see streaks
Upon those cheeks

The cloud is all fluff
Vapor and dust
Come cloud my memories away

— The End —