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Lemonade Nov 2018
The moment you traveled back to me,
I couldn't love you the same.
I couldn't pick up, just where you left off,
or even couldn't start it all over again.
There wasn't any beginning or end to it.
I couldn't move, it suffocated me.
I couldn't care less, how she was holding you then.
I couldn't find the same old you.
And you weren't my treasure trove of tenderness anymore.
I felt as if my love was temporary,
maybe it was.
You tell me it's all the same,
the daisies you planted,
the walls we painted,
the smell of my hair,
though its new red color glare.
The night-light I bought,
the candles you got.
The books that you read,
the ones I'd like to keep.
And you still like to smell them in indeed.
The places we navigated,
the ones awaited.
The moments we collected,
the ones enlisted.
you still hate socializing,
and humans aren't my special liking.
You're lactose intolerant,
but love ice-creams.
And for me, ice-creams are eminent.

But lovers lie, don't they?
Lemonade Nov 2018
We share a bond,
and poems and songs in the spaces between.
We love ice cream,
and the conversations that come with it.
We dance,
and pour our hearts out into the lyrics.
We share hugs,
and giggle through those bedtime stories.
For us, friendship is more than Snapchat streaks.
Lemonade Oct 2018
she is a happy ending,
not everyone can wait for.
Camryn Oct 2018
Death is inevitable,
It’s something you can’t escape,
it comes ever closer,
taking its shape.

If it’s the barrallel if a gun
or a deadly disease,
It comes ever closer
not hearing your pleas.

If it’s the spikes of jealousy,
or the poison of betrayal,
The story of death,
is always a sad tale.
And I sat
to hear out
your tale
as you wailed,
of how bills
were streaming down
your mail.

To lighten up
your grumpy bumpy
mood.
I came up with
all things
black and blue.

And when
all was said and done,
here comes
a snoopy snap
with a
flashing smile,
that ran
from mile to mile
And nothing can make me happier but that smile.
Kristaps Oct 2018
Oh my tree
blossom child, winter wave-like
eyeshadows and equally
cold stares. Silently

screaming with a closed
mouth. Who ghosts
trough out alone.  Do not

waste your lungs
to ponder. Wolfs of
now might starve with summer, but

the hounds of old will
continue to hunt.  Alas
not sap drop of pitty

do you deserve. You in
cherry cyanide light who
washes in tears of sugar.

The lycans will at last
tear your ephemeral skin. And you'll
learn to slay beasts like man was meant to
Milan Oct 2018
it isn't some fairy fiction or a dark verbal snipe,

it is a tribute to an explorer and his atypical psychic hype.

Not long ago, this lost explorer met a new friend,

But he was already scarred, he was afraid to even shake hand,

this new friend of his, was full of ebullience and light,

whereas he was just a desolate soul known as the pall knight,

She wanted to create a bond, forged from love and care,

but he was chained with all the hate and isolation, he had to bear,

she gave him a source of light, she guided him out of this maze,

she annihilated the viscous demons, pacified his obnoxious rage,

its like she was sent for him, to fill his blank page,

to color his dark canvas of life, to end his forlorn stage.

he then felt a warmth in his frozen soul, he felt more alive and restored.

there was no limit to how much grateful he was,

for she freed him from a deception.

there was no limit how tranquil his soul was,

for it was guided to a superior inception.

Then when he was just ready to say hi,

to this new friend, with whom he wanted to fly,

and all these new feelings, he wanted to try,

he ran all the way to her place, he searched for his angel,

instead he found a note that inscribed,

" I'm glad you found yourself, now stay the same until you die,

maybe we'll cross our paths here or maybe in the paradise,

but you will always find me within you, if you try,

take care my friend, for now its a goodbye."
I'm still looking out for her, following my instincts....
Derrek Estrella Oct 2018
I've been waiting for a while
Waiting on the bus, lingering Acadia road
With stark canary smiles
Tires sliding south, piercing lights through the snow

The grouching driver smiled for a buck
But it wasn't my number, just his luck
The face mistook

The madmen piled on top of one another
Spitting stories of strenuous times
Though they complained about the weather
They would do so well to shine every dime

The bus came and noticed my suit
The others followed me in pursuit
Of their boots

I am happy looking at the snow
And only feeling through the cleanest window
But everybody's in a jiving craze
I'm amazed or maybe I'm enhazed
By the speed of streets
And my halted heat

The participants of equilibrium
Took attempts at a kinetic sleep
Instead they chant, in dulled delirium
And take a peek at their synthetic keeps

Neon lights and thinking, dancing strobes
Stamping all their prints into my lobe
As the traffic probes

The wolf in withered wool
Talked about the finest winter day at the start of fall
His owner pulled a spool
Out of her spine, turned it to money, aimed a gun at her own gall

People were aroused ‘till they were pale
And the snow took on the visage of hail
It had us all impaled

A preacher in the back carried the thrall
Of every play and soon denounced them all
Then every mind’s speed-o-meter broke
The bus in that moment served to provoke
The red lights have stalled
But I am simply staring at the wall

The beautiful marmalade-
Haired lady was a victim of the locks of fate
As the buses fade
Onto pavilions of blurs into oblivion’s gate

The passengers sink past another precinct
The districts become less and less distinct
Vision is extinct

The cosmic eye’s offspring
Held a mundane life of bounding over mounds of salt
They came off of spring’s
Offering and found the true, world-collective gestalt

They fret over the facets of fossils
They seek to shine on acrimonious ant-hills
Passion is distilled

The merriest of people lie in songs
And do not feel bothered to belong
But when the bus transitions to a train
The vindictive vain are doused in pain
Queens on their knees
In well-ragged fleece

The bellowing bell-maid
Rang a tune that sang the smells of Familiar Arabia
The sums that we all paid
Meant nothing at all as golden sands enshroud grey Acadia

The replicated people do not dwell
Or belong inside my newfound well
While they seek to sell

The curl-headed mind,
Kept and groomed by the spotted hand of mercury
Grabbed the leashes of the hind
And repeated tales of great Apollo’s century

In the prints on dunes, he has found
The journey and a lack of solid ground
His bounds make no sound

The beaming castle of the once-gestalt
The gardens of the sky that never halt
The market district full of jubilee
Perpetual and peaceful entropy

Once a fool to look into the past
Now he pays attention to the mast
Once entailed his failure to the sea
Perpetual and fleeting harmony

Now, we sway
Grasp your every day
Bragi Oct 2018
Three letters
That together
Make
A beginning
A middle
An end

You
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