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I S A A C Sep 2021
flipping cards, interpreting the message
but too scared to just shoot you a message
and ask you a couple of questions
too worried about repeating lessons
thought you were my blessing now I'm second-guessing
Descovia Sep 2021
Roses are Red
Violets are blue
I been watching the numbers
plummet like the temperature
in our crew!

The world we live in is fading
and it feels like I am dreaming
none of this, even feels like it's true!

Roses are red
Violets are blue

There is only one escape. It appears to be too late
It's like I am dancing on crates
Playing with my life in this game of "fate"
Losing myself to all, what else can I do?

The love I bleed for you is red
Although I be feeling blue
It's like you are rubber
and I am the glue
things that I scream in rage
bounces off you and sticks to me
This process should not repeat
These emotions I seek, does not make me weak
In the end, of what I'm going through

Roses are red
Violets brings me blues
Nothing
Will destroy me at my peak.
I'll continue pushing...
No matter my mood
This is my truth
I only want the best for you!
i been noticing and peeping a lot of the roses are red and violets are blue
The concept is beautiful and it assisted in empowering my thoughts.
Thanks to all of you who are writing and making your art shine!
Your work is valued and  enjoyed.
Continue your lineage! :)
Moral theory being lived in actions,
the end of void
is a arm's length away, got
me believing, that Heaven is meant
for all of us.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZwVqXX27Yj0&t=2056s
One Andean Sky Aug 2021
By Marcela Guajardo     August 2021

The future is in my eyes
The past is in my footprints
The present is here in my own hands
Dave Robertson Aug 2021
Indigo shades steeping
to Indian ink blackness
******* thought
to a beautiful, terrible singularity
where words struggle
to escape gravity
but on we fly
Zywa Aug 2021
I'm sitting, busy

viewing these two hands of mine --


thinking what to do.
Collection "Half The Work"
Zywa Aug 2021
The girl is staring,

thinking hard of what she thinks --


she really doesn't know.
Collection "Ifless"
caden Aug 2021
I often think.
I wrote that first line and almost left it as a poem by itself because those three words are a nice summarization of what I wish I could say when someone asks me “How are you”

See the phrase, “I often think” pretty much describes my mood no matter the day, time, age or circumstance that I might be going through.
I think about everything, all of the time.
In fact there hasn’t been a moment since I was born when I wasn’t thinking about something

When someone asks me how I am doing, I long to reply with “i often think”
Because replying with “better than I deserve” or “well I’m just living the dream” has never felt right to me.
Every single time I have been asked the basic question of how are you. It physically pains me to say, “good, and how about yourself”
And I shorten my answer to the acceptable one, because what I really want to say at that moment would take up too much time from the sweet smiling lady who asks me that at the drive through because she asks the question out of habit.

When I am asked “How are you” I desperately wish I could respond with, “I often think.”
Because there is no doubt in my mind that the people I pass by every day who do not know me,
Often think.
And it is such a shame that we do not answer that question with what we are often thinking about.
Elizabethanne Aug 2021
I will ask you again about holy
How do you become?
I'll wait patiently for the tales of faith
You love so much
Hoping to find virtue just like you
I’ll argue with you about the devotion you have
( slow, sweet, and full like the beat of your heart)
Moon lit and radiant
How can I become haunted like you?
I’ve been on my knees before
(never for the right reasons)
I've talked at god more times then I can count
I have never felt anything other than the empty echo of silence after
I want to know what it feels like to have faith in something else
Of someone else
When those nights are dark, cold, and endless
I’ll ask you one last time
How do I become holy and haunted

- You tell me -They are the same thing.
Elizabethanne Aug 2021
Welcome to my house of sorrow and salt  
My entrance fee is every single thing  
you’ve got left in your bones
I want to love every single inch of you
When that’s not enough
I will drag my teeth across the years separating us
hoping to God I find a reason for you to stay


- I have nothing other than the taste of impossible on my tongue
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