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s v e n Jan 17
My feelings still linger
Towards you.
Still attached
To this idea of a what if-
That will never come true.
I know I confessed a thousand times
I know that
These scars on my heart will stay the same.
I also know that
How you view me will stay the same.

I can't help but hold on to a what if.
//Why can't I write more happy poems.
Arianna Dec 2018
Hoppin' trains like bars,
'Cross the country 'neath the stars
Wandering, wond'ring...
Sometimes the thought crosses my mind that
"All I have to do is walk out the front door."
PoetryHeals Dec 2018
Maybe all that is worth mentioning,
can't be mentioned.
Maybe all that comes around,
can't be seen.
Maybe all that we hear,
is inaudible.
Maybe all that is meant to be,
never was.
Maybe all that's left,
is what's felt.
aury Nov 2018
You take a gentle breath, deep and calming. Peeking down at me, you're smiling, fully content. I turn to look at you and take in your beautiful puppy dog eyes hovering over me. Those eyes I fell so deeply in love with so long ago. Tendrils of your hair fall over your forehead and your eyes crinkle. You giggle, shaking your head back and forth in a silly attempt to move your invading locks away.
At the front of the room a movie neither of us is paying attention to plays quietly. Something about a monster and a mad scientist. The couch is warmer than usual, my favorite Christmas blanket enveloping us comfortably. Not that I'm complaining, I tend to be cold as ever no matter the weather. Our legs are tangled in a lazy mess, and my arms hug tightly around your body, head happily buried in your chest.
Outside the sun is setting, and shadows dance across your face as the diminishing light beams through the curtains. As I lay sprawled across your small frame on the soft cotton couch in your living room that I've come to know so well, I find one thing is true. Discomfort here is unheard of, and there is little to disturb our peace.
Written: 11:10am 10/30/18
SeaChel Oct 2018

Quite often, I ponder
“What’s worse?”
a love that once was
or a love that could have been
and the ”what if” that follows it?
rebecca Oct 2018
It's a ball of tangled yarn that I just can't figure out
I need to untangle it before my time runs out.
What if my "what-if's" come true?
I can't sleep because the threads twist and constrict
I just don't know what to do.
Danielle L Cook Sep 2018
shh and allow me
to find the words

there aren't any;
just know I would
live through it all
to be here with you, I suppose it was worth it in the end
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