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Isabella Apr 2020
Hundreds of wishes, thousands of clovers.
Time becoming so much slower.
Wasted hope, pointless dreams.
Thousands of useless clovers, drifting down the stream.

Wishing you were here right now,
Thousands of clovers drifting down and down.

Further, further,
Until my thousands of clovers are out of sight.
Because, every night...

I'd take a clover, make a wish.
Drop it in the river, watch it swirl like the fish.
Then I'd let it float far away.
I would drop those clovers, day after day.

But it would never be over.
There were thousands of clovers.
Unpolished Ink Mar 2020
Wouldn't you like

To jump on a bike

Ditch all the pain

And the strain

Be ten again

No need to worry

No need to hurry

Fill each day

Full of play

Just like you did

When you were a kid!
Nathan MacKrith Mar 2020
I know that face,
I’m quite sure I do

It looks nearly like
one I daily reflect
upon as I brush
teeth and hair and foster
good proper hygiene
linked to my well being
I sip serial from a bowl
put on shoes whose sole
purpose is to cup feet
walking to complete
different destinations
under the same stars

I know that smile
gone from my life for a great while

It has been called treasure
which many try to bring out
a smile borne on shoulders
similar muscled boulders
yet its teeth stand taller
making me feel smaller
like I have been told to be
I do not see him suffer like me
he has a good job, loving wife
free from all my strife
a vision of what could be
possibly what should be me

I know that face,
I’m quite sure I do
but all the rest
belongs to you
~
NM
08/24/18
lilhadi Mar 2020
It’s spring and it’s starting again,
the longing that begins and begins and begins.
Kim Addonizzio, from “Onset,” featured in “When She Named Fire: an Anthology of Contemporary Poetry by American Women.
Euphrosyne Mar 2020
with my silent ways,
i will love you.

i'll be whispering
your name in
my prayers;

i'll be talking  to
the moon about you;

and i'll be wishing
to every star tonight
for you.
I will always be wishing you the best and praying you will be mine next time. Even though I'm always silent.
Patterson Feb 2020
And I'll run until I can't remember
the weight of your hands on my hips
until I can smell your shampoo
and not wish to run my hands through your hair.

I'll run until I forget
what it was like to stand still and be held
so close to your beating heart.
Until that afternoon
where I was pinned underneath you
fades completely from my memory.

Yes, I'll run and scream and fight
until I can walk beside you
without a heart of lead carving ruts in my wake
without casting glances
and admiring your beauty.
I will rage and burn
until I can see a bougainvillea
without immediately hearing your voice;
your careful singing in my shower,
your laugh, your low, stolen whispers.

And I'll keep weeping and wishing
that there were no kisses to forget,
no notes to burn or keep,
no flowers that crumble in my grasp,
no shirts that smell like you,
no jigsaw hollows where you still fit perfectly.
Wondering how long it will be
before the songs don't make me think of you
before the kitchen is just the kitchen
and my bedroom is just a bedroom.
                               before I fulfill your wish
                               and we are just friends again.

Friends who once snuck off,
held hands,
talked at midnight,
shared a bed (albeit only once)
shared favorite memories,
played guitar in the dark,
laughed at their own shy ways,
almost kissed,
almost became more.

Almost made it.

I will grind myself to dust,
if only it makes it easy to swallow
the bitter break of a first love,
a stolen heart, returned only to shatter
in my grasp. We hugged quickly, spun apart
when all I wanted is to cry and hold you
the way a dying man clings to the lifeboat.
So yeah, that girl I liked and snuck around with for about three weeks kissed me on Thursday and then broke it off on Friday. I walked out of class and went home to cry and process, only to go back to campus and awkwardly walk home with her and her sister.
And I was starting to feel okay when she added new information, so when we greeted each other for the weekend I was already on the verge of tears. And I really wished it hadn't gone that way. I wish I could go back and just not tell her that I liked her. That would've saved us a lot of heartbreak, both of us.
Because we're not talking.
And I have no idea what to do.
No one is talking.
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