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Austin Mizelle Mar 2021
Old eyes gaze upon
Young faces. So in love they
Were, so young and dumb.
birdy Feb 2021
Your scent is best forgotten.
Yet I remember your cinnamon hair,
Everytime the breeze carried the warm smell to my nose I smiled.
Because it meant you were still there with me.
We weren't in love,
Because we are and were,
too young to be having such big emotions.
But I know that whenever I catch the scent of cinnamon on an afternoon autumn breeze.

I will remember you.
Will you remember me?
Jorge Feb 2021
Awake! Awake! Please awake!
The only words she knew as the breath leaves my being
As she sobs, I gained strength
When she stops, my life drifts away.
She's connected with me.

Live! Live! Please live!
Without you I am nothing, I was touched
So deep within my wounds, I felt love sinking through
I was so infatuated.
Even love can heal and I got to experience that.

Breathe! Breathe! Please breathe!
I need you here with me for I am nothing without thee
She vented with her tears, she screamed in anger
I was the hope for her living, the reason at that
She was in love with me.

Don't go! Don't go! Please don't go!
I was at the edge of life,
It was my time to leave scorched earth.
She wept and in her arms is where I died.
She killed herself and I think that was love.
Inspired by past relationships and the relationships that some of my closest friends have been in.
sophie Jan 2021
my heart walks the fine, grey line
that hovers between platonic and romantic
feelings for her
or him
probably her

you are so so very incredible
and i continue to trip and fall as i attempt
to balance myself on the fine, grey line

i am so so very confused
as you are my everything
and i feel like nothing when i am not with you

what line is there?
Francie Lynch Dec 2020
These are images that once were
The tan lines stretching across your shoulders;
Like starlight from some supernova;
Your photos in my albums;
Our shadows beneath bright suns;
Those ghosts have come and gone.

Then love became a memory;
And memory is the ghost
That frightens me the most.
If our sun died, we'd still see it's image for eight minutes. Ghosts. They are everywhere.
Joe Workman Jan 2014
i visited you on a Saturday
and i didn't know
       what to expect.
you wore a blue sundress
that afternoon,
and we stepped into the shade
of a weeping willow.

we laid and talked,
                    only talked and held hands.
after a while we walked back to
  where you sleep
                    and  talked again.
we talked and then
my love for you grew
  as a young man's love will naturally grow
when he is in the arms of his love,
  when he is in the arms of love.
                   we kissed
and such a sweetness i found!

a sweetness as only young ones know when
  tasting love for the first time came from
                     your mouth!
my God! your mouth...

and then we fell,
                     both of us this time,
  fell into something we did not understand,

                     but knew just the same!
we had been waiting,
                     one for the other...
to be complete
  we gave in to what we could only feel.

nothing we could see or had heard of could have

                     helped us learn this bravery
  against youth.

and so we fell,      
                     blindly, expectantly,
knowing only that
  my shadow, my highest,
                     my heartbeat

would always be yours:
  my first, my all-time, my yellow;
                     walk with me again...
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