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paschelco Aug 23
I once pride myself on my ability to be unreadable .
maybe I still do , who knows .
there is this comfort in not having anything to lose ,
or so it seems .
but there's this thing in your smile...
I've never been one for reassurance but those two words were all that I didn't know that I needed to hear .
there is solace in knowing that I can feel .
maybe I don't want anyone to feel it the way I do .
your laugh makes it all undeniable ; I can't help but look and wonder where you've been .
how was life back home? any cobblestone roads?
I'll wear my heart on my sleeve and try
maybe you'll help me get the confidence I fake .
Nylee Aug 11
much louder
was the noise
not aiding my
timid voice.

how to approach
how to not
easy to fuel
the doubt.

easier to shrink away
will leave it like this
just for today
no one will miss.

speed way faster
as I draw my step
backwards
no use of any prep.

As I am back
where I was before,
feeling far worse
as I close the door
behind me.
I'll try tomorrow again.
An average being on earth
Who never tried to take a big leap.
An average being on earth
Who has always been a timid.
An average being on earth
Who never dared to upset anyone.
An average being on earth
Who shouts out from her heart now
Someone on earth please hear her out.

Bina Mukherjee
James May 7
An affinity sequestered away in a languid beat of my heart.
To whom I've fallen for so gravely ill, this churning affection grows a part within me.

The fire toils for a great satisfaction,
one of which I cannot fufill.
The strung voices that I provoke to keep you in the know are nothing but a timid reliance to keep me in the dark; a fault I've succumbed to, and a death I'll forever hold in disconcertion.

Perhaps it is best I keep the key for my own, but this pent affliction will be a pernicious ailment, gutting me within as the present becomes the past—day by day.

Oh, how I walk among the shadows,
lurking in a void, consumed by the daunting portents of failure.
Oh, how the hauntings of what could have been lingers.

But, alas, my silence has spoken, and now I must walk the shade of night and bear the quietude of my lonely plight.
Marga Apr 9
do not be timid,
because this world is frigid.

do not let it freeze
the mind that thinks with ease.
else Oct 2019
I think of you, but not you of me,
For I am shackled, and you are free.
Now the words are clear, but I’ll never tell
For I am pigeon-livered and lack gall.
The recursive words stay in my head–
They leave me not and make me mad–
I am now the jester in time’s flow,
Put on a show so you won’t know
How the words are free,
And good to go,
Yet woe is me,
My mind’s not free.
The words are there on the tip of your tongue, but your mind is holding them back... Why can't we folow our hearts for once?
Eye contact is not an option
I can’t hold a conversation
It’s basically impossible
Fitting in is not my forte
I can’t even explain
What it feels like
To NOT be able to talk
Even when you really want to
Even after hours of mental preparation
Nothing comes out
Not even a squeak
Social anxiety kinda *****
Sorry, my poetry has gotten extremely sloppy. And I’ve been facing MAJOR writers block. Any suggestions on how to get over this??
Z Jul 2019
35
Peel me mangos
And the pain goes and mixes with the fruit’s sweet flesh,
Dripping fresh and bitter-sweet

You still come to me when I’m asleep
to whisper pretty nothings in my ear
until my brow sears each passing thought with your image
I imagine you as timid as at our first meeting, as bold as at our last, your laughter repeating on and on and on

on our last day you kissed me sweetly, the taste of mango on your lips
Chrissy Feb 2019
she couldn't dance like the rest
she didn't want to let herself go enough to fall and be caught in his open embrace
her pace was unchoreographed and timid
scared of being replaced in the dance which she called
love
by a newer, more beautiful dancer that isn't afraid of prewetting into the arms of her lover  

but all and all her dance was bewitchingly unique
and he loved that
love can be compared to a dance either you and your partners paces match or they don't
A R Fitz-Gerald Jan 2019
I had always imagined your heart to be tiny,
Small like a hummingbird's.

Not because you were incapable of love,
But because you had the capacity for so much of it.

It fluttered at the briefest of glances
And jumped at the slightest of touches.

So fast did your heart beat that I had often mistaken you for dead
When I would wrap my hands around your throat.

You ran and you called and you pleaded
But no one could hear your little heart.

Even as it stuttered frantically
Against your rib cage, brittle as paper.

No one wants to love a quiet heart.

And so I took it and strung it on a chain of gold
So it could sit silently atop my own heart.
This is my very first posted poem. Please be kind.

Permission to use with credit
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