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pri Sep 2018
what would i be if not for you?
i’d be alone, wandering, lovely,
but c’mon i heard your voice,
and suddenly how could i not love you?
we laugh about our stories, we laugh about their stories.
and suddenly i want to make our own.

that night, it got late, and i didn’t want to go home.
the music we were playing, i imagine you singing my words,
and staying lost in this beautiful place with you.

everything, i pretend it’s all about someone else, you think it’s all about someone else,
but everything you say falls into my next poem.
that night we watched stars. the time i told you we should do something together.
and it’s true, i’m afraid of falling for you,
but i’m even more afraid i’m not.

and when i hear your voice, it’s nostalgic, because today i have these memories
-when we didn’t know anything, when all we had was stories,
when we believe in epics and magic and hated real life,
when we were a fantasy, and now we’re a reality,
and i’m nostalgic about our old nostalgia.

i’m also afraid we’ll be just like them,
and i’ll hear another voice, and i’ll be happy, because for a second, i think it’s you,
and then i’ll remember. see?
i’m good at making this about them, because it is about them,
but really i’m hoping you’ll ask me one day, and i’ll say yes to you.
and that night, the night will grow late and we’ll lay down together and just stare upwards.

hey moon -you know that lyrics, don’t you sweetheart, oh god,
what if i said too much?
i’m so afraid you’ll never talk to me again,
but if i love you, this will all be worth it sometime soon.
and pay attention -there’s a line for you and here it is:
everything i’ve written has started to sound like you, and i’m dangerously close to falling off the knife’s edge of my feelings.
and pay attention -because there are lines for you in every poem.
inspired by c'mon, northern downpour and ryden.
Rose Aug 2018
i’m paving way on a path i can’t see
making my way through rose bushes
pretending i don’t feel the ****** of fear
i’m fighting through waves while i sink
pretending i don’t feel the burn in my chest
i’m walking through this murky fog
pretending not to feel the heaviness it brings
pretending to feel iridescent in the face of this
as if i’m not seeping through the floor boards
as life shows me the truth of my choices
life has a funny way of making everything feel weighted even when it's a picture of happiness. there must always be goodbyes.
camps Aug 2018
lightning may never strike twice in the same place
but i hope you do

right where you make me feel alive
Mahnoor Kamran Aug 2018
Prithee, tell me
do your words express joy,
Or are just a lid
to the repressed sad within?

If so,
then where do you hide your demons?
Where does in your gentle, sweet mind
such horror lives?

Do you wish
that with each drop of ink that falls from your pen,
that with each word written that has its own tale,
your darkness drips away.

Tell me, tell me
that you dream, that you hope
that the Odyssey ends
and you come home
to peace.

Just tell me
You wont lost hope
Dont lose hope. Dont die from inside. They are some things worth living for. Hoping for.
April Jul 2018
A labyrinth expands before me,
Its only prize, the truth; reality
Awaits the shrewd of mind.
At every turn lie misdirections,
One wrong choice and I am
Lost, for perils lie ahead;
Webs of lies lie waiting for their prey.
I pray for wisdom that I may not fall,
Misguided by a ghost I thought I saw;
My own illusions turn me from the light.
The path ahead is cobbled from the shadows,
Bits of truth among them shining gold,
The only light to guide my weary feet
As Darkness beckons me with gentle hands.
Temptation offers respite from my search:
“Sit down and rest, poor ragged
traveler, you search in vain
For worthless lies. I tell the truth;
One as beautiful as I is honest, sure.”
I pay no heed. The truth is rarely beautiful or pure.
Jack Torrance Jul 2018
The colors are back,
so crisp and clear.
The loneliness is better,
as well as the fear.

I was wandering,
just floating along.
I was going through the motions,
acting like nothing was wrong.

I had given up,
and I can see that now.
I knew I could get better,
I just didn’t know how.

So I wandered, and I walked,
down paths to nowhere,
looking for something,
that wasn’t quite clear.

You were the light,
when the world became dark,
when I wanted to give up,
I would see your spark.

So I kept on going,
searching for you,
wondering if you were real,
but I hadn’t a clue.

Your light became brighter,
the closer I got,
and soon I was running,
towards that tiny dot.

The colors came back,
so crisp and clear.
The loneliness got better,
as well as the fear.

Suddenly you were there,
and that’s when I knew.
You were my beacon,
but I was yours too.

We were wandering lost,
trying to find some hope,
seeing each other,
at the ends of our ropes.

So let’s light up the world,
that we create.
We can do it together,
before it’s too late.
Aa Harvey Jun 2018
The Wanderer


What land is this stretched out before me?
I am forever lost inside a world of hatred, hunted by their vengeance.
Trusting in no one but myself inside this Hell;
I find myself wandering in search of a saviour to offer me guidance.
I beg, I plead; I foretell a future with an unbroken promise,
If I am to be blessed with sight, when I am blind to all witness.


I confess I am lonely in such a barren place;
I fall detached from any form of comely shaped temptress, blaming all.
I am unworthy of your anger, for I am invisible to any kindness;
I seek some meaning inside this world,
But I see no way of becoming disenthralled.


A dark ranger stalks my footsteps;
I shall be captured and added to the prisoners of hopelessness.
Pain reigned, so I sought shelter within a drug.
Now all I am is lost in the wilderness and all I can do is wander on.


Could I have foreseen this foretold future?
Was it written down for me to read?
Is there any way I can fix my existence with a simple suture?
I need a loophole in my downfall, in which I can believe in,
So that I can put my faith in the hope that one day I shall be set free.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
soph May 2018
My thoughts are racing
They will not stop
Storms are brewing
Waves are rolling
Too much
Too much
I keep it in
It’s bound to burst
Frenzied thoughts
The headache sets in
Dark clouds
No sleep
Just thoughts
More and more and more and more
Keep it in
Keep your cool
Three
Two
One
A scream erupts from inside
Thunder crashes
Lightning strikes
The storm has began
A piece of paper
A ballpoint pen
The thoughts spill out
The paper fills
The storm is calm
Time for sleep
hi I’m sophie and overthinking is one of my greatest talents and skills
Lee May 2018
It's not possible to give what you have,
It's not possible to say what you want,
It's not possible to feel and to be felt completely,
It's not possible to love someone the way you wish,
It's not possible to touch someone the way you imagine,
It's not possible to write what you truly felt,
It's not possible sometimes to be who you really are,
We are ever changing, ever exposing, ever defining, wandering souls.
It's all about possibilities sometimes.
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