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rebecca Sep 4
Do you ever wake up, wistful
for a dream?
Knowing you left an entire world-
a better world-
behind, moments before,
as you woke?
What that world was, exactly, escapes your mind.
But it was yours.
And you want it back-
....
it was just a dream
nadine Aug 27
would it be selfish of me
to ask for more
than sneaky glances here and there?

mouths desperate
to form sentences
to confabulate with you
but i rebel against my own body,
incorrigible mutters
bolting its way out of my lips.

would it be selfish of me
to ask for more
than an hour to spend with you?

eyebrows knitting together
in confusion
as you laugh
about matters of the heart,
looking through me
with perceptive eyes
and i try not to look away.

but fate
has a terrible affinity
for separating the two of us,

so i wish
we werent back to square one
but that would be wistful thinking.
dont leave me hanging again. how cruel of  you.
M C Jul 27
Wistfully,
I wish I was watching the world from above
on a white flying fortress floating far away from the fauna
and the fickle fools who fight for nothing. Their efforts are fruitless.
Up on my cloud, my cleverness creates cloud-constructs.
These constructs convey to me knowledge both cerebral and celestial.
This sends me higher; to the cosmos.
There, I get caught up in catechisms which force convulsions.
The spinning Sun stares into my silly soul, saying “Such stupidity!”
Scowling, I scorn the stars. Further still I ascend, astounding the astral plane.
I acquire it all.
And now I know it is
nothing.
Never have my nerves been so wracked.
I weep wildly wishing for when I was waging war
with a woman’s warmth.
Waking up with wet eyes and wounded heart, I stand and walk.
I no longer wonder why.
My oldest poem
LC Jul 20
a dull ache, 
a crashing pain.
wistfulness from afar,
love from within.
a smile with watery eyes
disguising the heartache. 
tales pass through lips,
minds strengthening memories.
imagining him at your side,
knowing he won't be there,
but wondering anyway.
wanting to see the past
and stay in the present 
and experience the future.
thinking about whether 
you're meant to be
or if the finality will reign.
weather, cities, 
conversations, the world,
bringing you back 
to memories with him. 
his special touch 
stayed with you - 
and it will always stay.
Owen Cafe Jun 30
What if I told you, young man.

What if I told you, you will be an adventurer. Not just land but mind body and soul.
What if I told you, you would be wild and un-tamed like a cloud before a storm.
What if I told you, You would be loved heard, respected, and admired in the places of absent thought.
What if I told you, your deepest dream would wrap you in perfect euphoria just to be with you.

What if I told you....that you would be hated.
What if I told you, you would get lost in the sea's of the mind and heart.
What if I told you, bridges burn faster when fueled by neglect.
What if I told you, you would hold the hearts of love in your hands and throw them to the wind.

What if I told you....you'll be okay.
What if I told you....dont worry young man. These are not but the tears of time settling in the letters of mind.
Saudia R May 26
You ever just look at an old photograph

One where you were bright eyed

Toothy grin from ear to ear

And you just stare at it

Really stare at it

and can't help but think

God




How the hell

Were you ever that young
Couldn't believe the way I used to think. The things I would say to myself. I really wish I could go back in time, not even to change anything, but to give younger me a glimpse of why she has to go through all her hardships and why it was the best thing to ever happen. #strongerforit #thankfulformysupport
TD May 22
Her sullen lips are
poised for obscurity.
A delicious pout
to rage against
Father Time.

Oh vanity
you fair bewitching
maiden.
How you ruin
any chances
for contented sighs.

When you wail at
the ravages of delinquency
as if they were willing lines
to pillage your face.

You are only chasing after jealousy
and dying before Snow White
utters her coquettish blessing.

And to think
all this time wasted
when you could’ve grasped at sublime
with shattered glass in your hands.
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