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Hannah Aug 2019
As a writer
You are assumed to be
Good with words
Yet I spend a vast portion of time
Saying exactly the wrong thing
Or biting my tongue altogether
I hope to tell you one day
What you mean to me
Instead of just writing it out
In the pages in my mind
riley minteer Aug 2019
You can find me in the fields,
catching water bugs,
and small red beetles.
You will find me in the grass,
sifting through all of the things I have left.

sifting through dollops of honey
and gin
sifting through well-rusted lockets and tins
o’er high hills comes sweet-smelling winds
carrying over pollens from yore,
drifting from to city to city once more...

twenty years later i sit in my yard
with my cats and my children in the heart of new york,
new york
a faint, yet audible buzzing awakes me from my nap,
and as i wake i see a flow‘r on my lap.
how could this be?
how could this happen?
i’m surrounded by non-ornamental hedge plants!

i look to the sky and see a faint glisten,
for i've seen it now as i’ve seen it before
i breathe in the sweet smell of my youth from yore,
drifting from city to city once more.
-riley minteer
“commenbees, pollen-sifters”
(from “standing in two gardens”)
Monday, August 26, 2019
riley minteer Aug 2019
...seemingly routine,
the circumstance at hand
the fire burning books made by my fellow man
burn away his knowledge with the ham-ring of keys,
“burn away his ashes-
do with the riches as we please”
such things are the enticing lies of the world
the same men who lust are the same men who burn
“do unto others as your fellow man”
we’ll do what we want and we’ll wilt at the end…

looking above,
the light changes the tune
and all that was bleak
is bleaker once more,
but truly, vibrancy occurs; downpours

how colors as if drawn by invisible force,
recede, concur, conceit, remorse
valleys plunge into whites, into blacks
“is this the epiphany to break down my back?”
i scream into jars
without reading their state
i know what will come
but it’s only to late
they’ve captured my heart,
away with my fate!

its true, down i fall
but more truer so,
thick vines from the ravine catch me into-
though i come breaking lose
with the weight of the weathering i bear…

i believe in the power of chiefly healing
with nothing but passion within true pain
eyes gleaming astounded as they slowly degrade
like collections of quarters left out in the rain.
-riley minteer
intrinsic oxidation, total condemnation”
(from “standing in two gardens”)
Sunday, August 25, 2019
Aurora RW Aug 2019
Her
She was a kind that loved longer,
than stars shined in the night.
Stronger,
than the surface of the moon.
She dreamt only of him,
since her creation.
He was a man like no other
He loved her more passionately
More violently than she had ever known
Her heart was his, only his for the rest of her existence.
She gave him everything all that she is, all that she was.
She never stops, for him, not even a moment.
Everything she is, everything she was,
His and his alone.
His touch bound her to him
His kiss infected her.
His eyed seduced her
His heart chained their love together, forever.
He gave her all that he was, all that he is,
her love showed him the light.
---AuroraRW
Aurora RW Aug 2019
Him
He is like a flame that burns, brighter than any star in the sky.
A flame lit by the soul to survive a thousand winters.
A flame so delicate and so bold is cause for my restlessness.
None shall sway this flame of mine, its light too great,
Too powerful.
It can be spat on, blown on, poured on from endless monsoons.
And yet his flame burns bright.
My flame, his heart, all suffering,
All enduring.
Cannot be Shaken,
Fears nothing,
Believes and loves all.
His Flame so bold and beautiful,
Slowly causing my demise.
His flame I love with greater passion,
Stronger than Hercules,
My flame exists on hope,
believes all,
feels all,
knows all.
His flame, my flame,
Will never give up.
---AuroraRW
Aurora RW Aug 2019
She can do no wrong; she can do no right.
Her heart hidden in shadows so dark and angered,
Her spirit frozen, in a time of love beyond her reach.
Her thoughts wail for attention, clawing at her every move.
“He’s real, he must be” her mind would hiss.
Of his beautiful face, tis but a made-up dream.
But her body weeps and spasms for one, for whom?
She knows not.
Her body begs and pleads to be released from such a burning torment,
But to her demise, the pleads are in vain.
For every fiber of her core believes in his touch,
his words,
his spirit,
his head,
and most of all his heart too.
What more is truth,
than the pain of lies?
She sits alone with a heart so weary,
She has become consumed by her own madness.
A madness of a made-up falsehood.
---AuroraRW
winter child Aug 2019
In case no one gets it,
i collect my excerpts
better
than i spell my prayer.
Spills my personal feelings
and trouble,
longer than i bow
on my knees.

i memorize every shame
and quote it
in a piece of paper,
the same stroke
they did to break
my bones.
Marks down
every of their tone
when i got yelled at,
being degraded.

In case no one gets it,
i use my fingertips to fight.
Being sure of my words,
but never myself.

They can take off my guts,
break down my sanity
into pieces of insecurity.
Yet i’m here to remain bold
until the last spill of ink,
and my pen
can no longer stand.
the battle is in my head

(w.c)
Vic Aug 2019
It's not pubished yet,
It's still being written.
It'll be published anonymous,
By me.
And it's about you.
And me.
Yup. I know.
It's really messed up.
I've written an entire book about you.
And all the ******* things I feel.
The worst part is,
That you don't even know.
No one knows it's about you,
Or that I'm writing it,
And that maybe It'll be published someday.
But until then,
I'll keep writing my book.
And let the poetry fill the once blank pages,
With you, and all my in-love words.
So I've kinda written a book. A poetry book. It's gonna be called: "All the things I wanted to tell you but never did." And it's exactly what the title is. Maybe I'll post a part of it later. I've written a lot of thoughts, poems and stuff. for every "thing" that I've written, there will be a new page. It's just a collection of "poety," all directed to the same person. The idea is to publish it anonimously, and not get any money for it. I'll put the links to my *anonymous* social meda and stuff. My Hellopoetry, Tumblr etc. It'll be hella emotional and personal. It'll be full of love confessions and depressed things I think daily. Idk how to explain, but hopefully it makes sense. If you have an idea, opinion or anything else, just comment or message me. ily all m=so much <3
Aurora RW Aug 2019
As love flows free beneath the trees,
Thy heart unbound eternally by love
Poisoning self with the disease,
True love knows no shame, nor bounds
Thyself is ruined in love, forever to be
Stuck among the stars,
The heart is open, never to close
In the center of this destruction
Heart is unbound, unstrung,
All hope of salvation
Lost to this consumption
She feared a most dreadful act
His lips parted and love reached his lips onto hers
Her face pale,
His eyes grew with passionate sincerity.
---AuroraRW
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