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kain Dec 2019
It's raining outside
Somewhere in the depths
I feel the vibrations
Of raindrops
The plip plop
Of nature's tears

And with them
Come ghost hands
Fingers trailing
Up my sides
Scaling my skin
And then they're gone

Oh, to be alone
Somewhere beneath the surface, my heart must not be so cold.
Nyx Nov 2019
I can't love you, Not yet
How can I when your words are so hard to forget?
They aren't malicious, or cruel
they aren't filled with bad intent
But her name keeps ringing in my head

You've fallen in love with me you say

You wouldn't tell me such lies
Though I can't bring myself to believe
Even with that heartfelt look in your eyes
You warm my heart, make me smile
You've shone a new light into my life
You are kind to me, good to me


Though your words conjure strife

I know in your heart you still love her dearly
I would have to be blind in order not to see it so clearly
There is no future in me, as you hurt from the one of her
And perhaps in the years to come you say

Who knows what will happen with her

I don't expect or want plans for a wedding or a family
I just wish that while with me now
You'd think of the us of now
, not a future of her
So how can I love someone who's heart can't choose?
She's like a haunting ghost that's long overdue

And you know it hurts me, it tears me apart
That you're still longing for her not so deep down in your heart
So forgive me for being hesitant and unable to return those words
But I'm only trying to protect myself from the hurt
Because I care about you so dearly it drives me insane
But I can't allow myself to fall in love with you
Not yet



-
I'm sorry that I'm trying so hard to protect myself, but I know if I allow myself to fall in love I will just be more torn apart in the future. There is no security blanket or safety for being with him forever, I know that and I don't expect that of him, I just want him to believe in us of now, but his longing for her and that future hope of getting back together is what kills me. He cares for me and loves me, but he still loves her as well, So how can I allow myself to be so vulnerable and to give my all to a boy who see's me only as tempory.
I'll never match up to her, so again I'm sorry but I can't allow myself to fall in love with you. Not yet.
so many pleasures, yet this,
the chiefest!

it is the cellular sensation, a momentary
swiping the real stroking of gentle grazing,
the finger-tracing painting of another’s
softest places

this is what I will ever miss
this is what I will   eye  mist

when the eyes, arms and all the rest
age beyond, functioning justa at the “barely” test,
as long my forefinger, tho crooked and bent,
can draw lines upon the cheeks of my beloveds,
the lover sleeping beside, so relaxed, eyes closed,
the children, whose skins elasticity is living electricity,
even the warped, veined, roughened dying skin
of those yet glowing-gasping for the tactile worship,



I will desire to live
my first poem.
Josiah Bates Oct 2019
I do not approve of what they do,
Yet I love them         just the same.

I cannot accept what they think and say,
But I accept them          for who they are.

They hurt the people that I love the most,
And I hurt                to forgive them again

If they were you, they'd be easier to love.
Yet I am the source                of the blame.
Àŧùl Aug 2019
1.
The easterly breeze softly whispers
Only your sweet name in my ears...

2.
I whisper back your name in the air
Hoping my message to reach you...

3.
One day by your side you will find me
Yes, we're so much happier together...

4.
Oh dear, you are of course my heart
And definitely the heartbeat within...

5.
Come, hold my right hand in your left
Rest your right hand on my shoulder...

6.
I shall hold your left hand in my right
And I shall grip your waist by my left...

7.
Let's meet at a place beyond any light
There you can find your name glowing red on my chest...
My HP Poem #1763
©Atul Kaushal
keneth Jul 2019
step. one, two
one foot away from you
blink. three, four
just what you got in store?
stop. five, six
there's nothing i can't fix
breathe. seven, eight
but surely, you can wait?

































think. nine, ten
you'll wait until when?
delaying chances is worse than not choosing at all
Alec Astaire Jul 2019
I should have learned by now that there aren’t any “signs”-
Any sort of supernatural clues that hint I should make
      someone mine
And I should have guarded myself the first night we met
We saw so many shooting stars I almost lost count of them

I quadrupled the amount of shooting stars I’ve ever seen
And we laid so peaceful next to each other while you lost your
      falling star virginity
Not a single time that night did I think to make a wish
Because feeling loved beside you brought back the feeling I have
      missed

But that feeling and I soon went our separate ways
As I slowly noticed you weren’t eager to hang out most days
That I was that call when you were drunk or lonely,
An afterthought, and I was supposed to respect that completely.

Shame on me, you said, for saying the same way you treat me is
      how I am going to treat you-
That we can continue to be “back pocket” friends, tried and true
I never wanted being true to who I am to interfere with what we
      had,
But I couldn’t stay quiet while inside I felt so sad

You made me feel stupid and clingy for asking for your time
I felt like I was the idiot for trying to make you mine-
To be more than that guy you sleep with when you want someone
      to hold you
If I wanted this all to be casual, I just would have told you

And now at times I wish I wouldn’t have told you
How begging for your time made me feel so ugly and blue
I wish I would have gritted my teeth and stayed quiet
So that maybe in your own time you would treat me with respect

And maybe that’s what I should have wished for upon those
      shooting stars
That God would’ve kept you and I together or that he would
      prepare our hearts
To understand each other and love each other and work through
      our problems-
Act like adults instead of fighting and crying when you made us
      be done

I know what I’ll wish on my next falling star
That you would miss me or call me- not change who you are-
But that you being you and me doing me would work out in the
      end
That we could be together without either of us having to pretend

I hope that’s not too much to ask for- not suppressing my feelings
Or being able to speak my mind without having you hate me
Was it really necessary that you block me after you were offended
If you ever loved me the same, it never would have ended

But I refuse to compromise who I am or what I want
I’ll never accept less from a friend whether I love them or not
I guess what I learned is to never love someone until I really know
      em
And that’s why I write yet another sad poem
Amalinna Zainal Jul 2019
Maybe

I know you well,
Enough to realized that
you not telling me the truth.

However, I know.
I don't understand you
Deep enough to know the reason
Why you're sad.

Yet,
It's kind of irritating but true
The feeling.

To be honest...

Knowing you,

I shouldn't ask
when I know the answer.

- Y
ENTRY #10
- I thought, i know everything about that person by naturally looking at that person. but actually, i just trying so hard to figure out.
Susana Jul 2019
So grand yet so small
So important yet so irrelevant
So beautiful yet so shallow
must thee live in an illusion
Or does real life leave too much of a confusion?
When night comes
All seems quiet
Yet
doesn’t the dirt seem to like the dark?
tremulous and tender, the crook'd finger
neither timid or tentative,*
yet trembles,
though it be from
care, not fear, consideration, not trepidation

the renegade finger strokes her sleeping cheek,
tender the tip to each cell beloved, as if sealing a bond
there is no more to say

when awakening comes, one will be gone,
with no note, thus this last soft stoking, outline stroking
tremulous and tender, his finger, U shaped-crook'd,
but he is no longer is her
you


he leaves, departing, yet lightly shaking,
no longer can he be her prized and proud claiming show-horse,
gone, that man she loved, for he cannot abide his being
called a former, dark glory, a bent cane spirit,
his body, its entirety,  
crooked by weight of an improvident provision,
not just his finger, this, his, 
a greater intolerable,
his pain of failure unacceptable
and shame searing,
his woe bends his love acrooked
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