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#dates
Oh, the tunnel of love, Bestowed from above; A fragile turtle dove, It'll shut soon enough. I remember that last summer night, When, at midnight, we had a big fight. You said, "This charade isn't love, It's just me waiting desperately till you grow up." I clashed back with a petty attack, Though I can't take it back, I still feel bad. I insulted you over the ex who left you behind, And said, "Maybe love's something you cannot define." So, after a long screaming match, Where nobody won, we just clawed and scratched, I said, "I'm done. Hope you have better luck," Put down my phone and cried till the sun came up. Oh, the tunnel of love, Bestowed from above; A fragile turtle dove, It'll shut soon enough. Now, here I am, searching my phone, For pictures of you, while sulking alone, Feeling envious of the smiles that we shared. How could we break us like we never cared? Replaying clips through my mind, Of more joyous, happier, simple times. I still fondly remember our first date, And how you put sprinkles on my birthday cake. The pain is still there, and it won't go away, Remember when we joked about our wedding day? I guess, in the end, we both made mistakes, And now we must deal with all the heartaches. Oh, the tunnel of love, Bestowed from above; A fragile turtle dove, It'll shut soon enough.
0
Jan 20
Jan 20, 2026 at 11:15 PM UTC
The Tunnel of Love
city coffee apostrophe aroma comma gonna colon walking talking bowling strike exclamation quotation question dancing
0
Nov 23, 2025
Nov 23, 2025 at 6:14 AM UTC
minimalist
I want to be chosen. Finally. It’s only been a month, a couple dates. I feel safe with You. I want to be chosen this time. I want to be someone’s Something. I want to be chosen. By him. I’ll choose you too. I hope I’m chosen, by you.
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Aug 29, 2025
Aug 29, 2025 at 2:08 AM UTC
I want to be chosen.
I wander down the boardwalk as I used to, many years ago. Metering my steps to feel some semblance of control. The yellow streetlights set fire to my pupils over and over again as I pass under. There's an old, soft breeze from the lakeshore coming in. Although you can't necessarily see the lake from here. "This is the nice part of town" I tell myself, as my soul rests into the cityscape and prepares itself. I'm meeting her tonight. In many ways its the same night as many years ago. Warm, but not enough to be without a sweater or some layer on top. Although those who are young enough will likely wear less. Perhaps she'll even choose to wear that black jacket again. Walking up the concrete, I look down and feel my feet underneath the weight of my bones. Every fiber and hair is on guard, and I'm shaking. "I'm going to give myself away" I think to myself.  I arrive at a dimly lit restaurant, and take my seat on the outside patio. My weight sinks into my cotton shirt, and it in turn pushes into the cloth of the seat. I order some waters and try to breathe into the end of summer. It's been a decade since I last saw her. Our last exchange was a cup of bittersweetness. I cycle through thoughts of fate and destiny, wondering about where it is leading me, or I am leading myself, now in my 30's. I settle on the fact that its all too grand to decide right now. My phone rumbles against the glass of the table. And just as quickly I pounce to check. She's arriving. I look around frantically but there are no familiar faces. I feel colder and my heart races. Am I ready? Her dress comes from around the corner. A firm, confident walk, the same as she had many years ago. I used to observe it carefully when she came my way. She carries her bag cautiously, mindful of her surroundings, but still, seemingly at ease. Her skin glows ever so sadly amidst the evening sun, a warm caramel reflection back into the sky. We exchange glances briefly. An acknowledgement of a time long ago, and the people we once were together. It is time.
0
Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 6:16 PM UTC
The Sidewalk
I wander down the boardwalk as I used to, many years ago. Metering my steps to feel some semblance of control. The yellow streetlights set fire to my pupils over and over again as I pass under. There's an old, soft breeze from the lakeshore coming in. Although you can't necessarily see the lake from here. "This is the nice part of town" I tell myself, as my soul rests into the cityscape and prepares itself. I'm meeting her tonight. In many ways its the same night as many years ago. Warm, but not enough to be without a sweater or some layer on top. Although those who are young enough will likely wear less. Perhaps she'll even choose to wear that black jacket again. Walking up the concrete, I look down and feel my feet underneath the weight of my bones. Every fiber and hair is on guard, and I'm shaking. "I'm going to give myself away" I think to myself.  I arrive at a dimly lit restaurant, and take my seat on the outside patio. My weight sinks into my cotton shirt, and it in turn pushes into the cloth of the seat. I order some waters and try to breathe into the end of summer. It's been a decade since I last saw her. Our last exchange was a cup of bittersweetness. I cycle through thoughts of fate and destiny, wondering about where it is leading me, or I am leading myself, now in my 30's. I settle on the fact that its all too grand to decide right now. My phone rumbles against the glass of the table. And just as quickly I pounce to check. She's arriving. I look around frantically but there are no familiar faces. I feel colder and my heart races. Am I ready? Her dress comes from around the corner. A firm, confident walk, the same as she had many years ago. I used to observe it carefully when she came my way. She carries her bag cautiously, mindful of her surroundings, but still, seemingly at ease. Her skin glows ever so sadly amidst the evening sun, a warm caramel reflection back into the sky. We exchange glances briefly. An acknowledgement of a time long ago, and the people we once were together. It is time.
Continue reading...
35
Can we be together, On July 14th? At the perfect palace park, In some kingdom far away. Six years from now, We'll be in Boston, Strolling down the shores. Hand in hand, I'll trace my finger over the ring, I placed on yours. Together forever, Separated never, The same word, Written in different fonts.
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Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 12:08 PM UTC
July 14th
I write music in the record store, I'll use their piano to pen the tune. They won't find me, I'm good at hiding, So someday my record will be sold there. We kiss in the record store, To the sound of men making music. They won't find us, We're good at quiet love, So someday we'll kiss to the men playing my record.
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Feb 20, 2025
Feb 20, 2025 at 10:22 PM UTC
Record Store
I heard the door open. It was Leeza (Lisa’s 14-year-old sister), she’d been out on a date. I was the only one in the living room as she came in and sagged, dejectedly onto the huge, white sectional couch, right next to me. She looked positively deflated. Which is unusual because up until now, she’s been all freckles and smiles Ok, here’s where we get poetic and rhyme, with innuendo and allusion: Me: “Did you have a good time?” Leeza: “No but I was trying.” Me: “Did he get handsy—the swine?” Leeza: “Argh! No—but his kisses are a crime.” I gasped: “You didn’t give him a climb!?” Leeza “NO!” she said, somewhat horrified. Me (trying to be neutral): “No judging, it would have been.. fine (I lied).” Leeza: “That’s never going to happen.” “Good,” I declared, “he was just a distraction—and, you know Santa.” “What about Santa?” Whew, that’s enough of THAT (rhyming business). She asked, so, yeah, I sang it.. I had to. *“He knows who you’ve been kissing, what you’re thinking when you’re awake, he knows if you’ve been bad or good— he’s kind of like a cop that way.”* After a moment's silence Leeza asked, “Is there something creepy about that?” “Only if you think about it.” I admitted, as she put her head on my shoulder. . . A song for this: Fairytale of New York (feat. Kirsty MacColl) by The Pogues . . A Christmas Playlist! There’s 6 days til Christmas (and Hanukkah) http://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_25.mp3
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Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 12:14 PM UTC
Leeza and Santa
I heard the door open. It was Leeza (Lisa’s 14-year-old sister), she’d been out on a date. I was the only one in the living room as she came in and sagged, dejectedly onto the huge, white sectional couch, right next to me. She looked positively deflated. Which is unusual because up until now, she’s been all freckles and smiles Ok, here’s where we get poetic and rhyme, with innuendo and allusion: Me: “Did you have a good time?” Leeza: “No but I was trying.” Me: “Did he get handsy—the swine?” Leeza: “Argh! No—but his kisses are a crime.” I gasped: “You didn’t give him a climb!?” Leeza “NO!” she said, somewhat horrified. Me (trying to be neutral): “No judging, it would have been.. fine (I lied).” Leeza: “That’s never going to happen.” “Good,” I declared, “he was just a distraction—and, you know Santa.” “What about Santa?” Whew, that’s enough of THAT (rhyming business). She asked, so, yeah, I sang it.. I had to. *“He knows who you’ve been kissing, what you’re thinking when you’re awake, he knows if you’ve been bad or good— he’s kind of like a cop that way.”* After a moment's silence Leeza asked, “Is there something creepy about that?” “Only if you think about it.” I admitted, as she put her head on my shoulder. . . A song for this: Fairytale of New York (feat. Kirsty MacColl) by The Pogues . . A Christmas Playlist! There’s 6 days til Christmas (and Hanukkah) http://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_25.mp3
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35
Healthy bran cereal on discount for 2 dollars!? I was really happy. it had the daily fibre it went well with honey it just tasted nice After my victory snack, I gently went to sleep... I expired in the morning.
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Jun 7, 2023
Jun 7, 2023 at 6:27 PM UTC
Welcome to Costco, I love you
i swear we're rarely at ease with the way we push doors to new experiences kissing on public property isn't illegal but the nerve of the act thrills me just as much parking lots are often not the site for love birds deprived of merry lip locking but we paint them red better than an arsonist with a burning passion can shade his buildings black i wish i could watch that night play itself once more on a lofty screen just for us while we do it perhaps again-- the way i took your form and made it rest against a certain sedan... the way i kissed you then while my body leaned on yours... the way we held that kiss despite the bustling of the city night... the way you looked at me when we paused for a moment's sake... i could tell you were so ******* high (and im sure you could tell i was too)
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Jan 13, 2023
Jan 13, 2023 at 12:48 PM UTC
I SWEAR
We sat beneath a night sky of graduated charcoals, blacks and interstellar blues. Fall’s begun its indispensable work, banishing the harsh sun, the creepy lanternflies and hot summer nights. The stars seemed hesitant tonight, like they feared the sun might change its mind, reverse its course and run them back off - except one, which Peter says is Jupiter (and therefore not a star at all). We were (Peter, Sunny, Anna and I), studying, in our fold-up lounge chairs and reading by little kindle lights clipped on our books. Leong’s there too - supposedly studying - but in reality, she was waiting for her date. Leong and Sile have been flirting since last year and tonight’s their first, official date. Leong’s never been on a western date before or ever been alone with a boy in a car. She’s only seen romance in movies or from afar, like an astronomer viewing a distant moon through a telescope. Her outfit, though casual, was coalesced from six wardrobes and no king or questing knight has ever been dressed more carefully or with greater ceremony. She even positioned her chair at a carefully chosen angle, to show her, initially, in her best light - “Zhù ni hao yùn!” She insisted (It’s good luck). She’s a gorgeous, brilliant, amazing woman with a razor-thin veneer of amorous confidence. I know my nerves playup when I’m uncertain about things, but Leong’s playing it off, acting casual.. ish. Finally, with an almost physical jolt, she saw him enter the quad. As he approached, his every aspect was scrutinized by vigilant, overprotective roommates. The air was filled with the whispered buzz of shared analysis. Soon they were walking off together and chuckling at something we couldn’t hear. It’s funny, I’ve never felt so much like a parent.
0
Sep 16, 2022
Sep 16, 2022 at 4:27 PM UTC
the first of many
We sat beneath a night sky of graduated charcoals, blacks and interstellar blues. Fall’s begun its indispensable work, banishing the harsh sun, the creepy lanternflies and hot summer nights. The stars seemed hesitant tonight, like they feared the sun might change its mind, reverse its course and run them back off - except one, which Peter says is Jupiter (and therefore not a star at all). We were (Peter, Sunny, Anna and I), studying, in our fold-up lounge chairs and reading by little kindle lights clipped on our books. Leong’s there too - supposedly studying - but in reality, she was waiting for her date. Leong and Sile have been flirting since last year and tonight’s their first, official date. Leong’s never been on a western date before or ever been alone with a boy in a car. She’s only seen romance in movies or from afar, like an astronomer viewing a distant moon through a telescope. Her outfit, though casual, was coalesced from six wardrobes and no king or questing knight has ever been dressed more carefully or with greater ceremony. She even positioned her chair at a carefully chosen angle, to show her, initially, in her best light - “Zhù ni hao yùn!” She insisted (It’s good luck). She’s a gorgeous, brilliant, amazing woman with a razor-thin veneer of amorous confidence. I know my nerves playup when I’m uncertain about things, but Leong’s playing it off, acting casual.. ish. Finally, with an almost physical jolt, she saw him enter the quad. As he approached, his every aspect was scrutinized by vigilant, overprotective roommates. The air was filled with the whispered buzz of shared analysis. Soon they were walking off together and chuckling at something we couldn’t hear. It’s funny, I’ve never felt so much like a parent.
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8
I’m amazed by your intuition knowing everything else, but doesn’t know a single thing when I ask -“So tell me about yourself?”
0
Apr 13, 2022
Apr 13, 2022 at 10:08 PM UTC
Dating like🙄...
they say what you see is what you get but what if the walls were built too high, what would you do to see what's inside?
0
Feb 2, 2022
Feb 2, 2022 at 9:32 AM UTC
palindrome
I’m in the library, at school, trying to write an article for the school paper (and I'm not even ON the school paper). I’m on a forty-five minute deadline to complete a story someone else did poorly - on the edge of my vision I see someone step up to my table - a boy, I can tell, without looking up, from his school uniform. I’m hoping whoever it is will go away.. 44 minutes. “Uhh-umm,” I hear. My eyes flicker up and I ID “Everett Priestly” - one of God’s less ambitious efforts. After a moment. “Uhh-umm,” he does again. “Parsley,” I say, without looking up. “Priestly,” he answers with a sigh, "wanna play HOUSE?" he says conspiratorially, with a smirk. "We were 7," I say, liberally applying syrupy boredom. I’ve kind of known Everett Priestly forever - he lives two doors away from us - then my family became ex-patriots until three years ago. His family is rich, he’s handsome and I believe someone once told him he was charming. He fancies himself a lady killer but I’m willing to bet that he kills them with a combination of daddy’s money and poor driving. “I’m awfully busy - on deadline Mr. Priestly - please send me a text,” I say, again, without looking up. “I don’t have your number,” he says, patiently. “Would you like to go to Sandra’s party with a group of us Friday night?” “OOOO! Let’s keep it that way,” I smile - this is too easy - 42 minutes. “It’ll be FUN,” he says, with a smile in his voice - Oh, God, he’s trying charm. “Everett,” I stop writing, look up and lean back. “You ask me out every two months. If you’ve made a bet with someone - like we’re living a teen movie - I’ll payoff the bet for ya if you just give it a rest, OK?” He really IS good looking - but kissing him would be the apoco-LIPS. “Why do you always say no??,” he asks, with a helpless 1/6th shrug and his GIGAWATT smile. 41 minutes. “See you in January,” I say, as I slide my laptop closer in, give it my obvious, full attention and hopefully, start back to writing. “Come to Thanksgiving!,” he says, as inspiration strikes. “January would be MLK day,” I remind him. “Everett, PLEASE - deadline,” I plead (not looking up). Everett, makes a snarky sound, turns around and slowly moves away - like a man headed for jail - he really SHOULD try out for the drama department, I decide. 40 minutes. When Everett turned 16, his daddy gave him some kind of expensive foreign sports car - a really, really, really expensive sports car. Six hours later Everett guns this formula-one race-car out of a gas station, loses control, and totals it. The girl with him had to get stitches over her right eye. His friends call him “EV” - they say it with a kind of a southern accent - that I can’t decide is fake or not, which gives it a hint of - “Elvis” - had a replacement car within 48 hours. He wrecked THAT one in less than six weeks - and his date got a concussion in the roll-over. If he wants me to get in a car with him, he’s gonna to have to taser me.
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Jun 18, 2021
Jun 18, 2021 at 1:22 PM UTC
apoco-LIPS
I’m in the library, at school, trying to write an article for the school paper (and I'm not even ON the school paper). I’m on a forty-five minute deadline to complete a story someone else did poorly - on the edge of my vision I see someone step up to my table - a boy, I can tell, without looking up, from his school uniform. I’m hoping whoever it is will go away.. 44 minutes. “Uhh-umm,” I hear. My eyes flicker up and I ID “Everett Priestly” - one of God’s less ambitious efforts. After a moment. “Uhh-umm,” he does again. “Parsley,” I say, without looking up. “Priestly,” he answers with a sigh, "wanna play HOUSE?" he says conspiratorially, with a smirk. "We were 7," I say, liberally applying syrupy boredom. I’ve kind of known Everett Priestly forever - he lives two doors away from us - then my family became ex-patriots until three years ago. His family is rich, he’s handsome and I believe someone once told him he was charming. He fancies himself a lady killer but I’m willing to bet that he kills them with a combination of daddy’s money and poor driving. “I’m awfully busy - on deadline Mr. Priestly - please send me a text,” I say, again, without looking up. “I don’t have your number,” he says, patiently. “Would you like to go to Sandra’s party with a group of us Friday night?” “OOOO! Let’s keep it that way,” I smile - this is too easy - 42 minutes. “It’ll be FUN,” he says, with a smile in his voice - Oh, God, he’s trying charm. “Everett,” I stop writing, look up and lean back. “You ask me out every two months. If you’ve made a bet with someone - like we’re living a teen movie - I’ll payoff the bet for ya if you just give it a rest, OK?” He really IS good looking - but kissing him would be the apoco-LIPS. “Why do you always say no??,” he asks, with a helpless 1/6th shrug and his GIGAWATT smile. 41 minutes. “See you in January,” I say, as I slide my laptop closer in, give it my obvious, full attention and hopefully, start back to writing. “Come to Thanksgiving!,” he says, as inspiration strikes. “January would be MLK day,” I remind him. “Everett, PLEASE - deadline,” I plead (not looking up). Everett, makes a snarky sound, turns around and slowly moves away - like a man headed for jail - he really SHOULD try out for the drama department, I decide. 40 minutes. When Everett turned 16, his daddy gave him some kind of expensive foreign sports car - a really, really, really expensive sports car. Six hours later Everett guns this formula-one race-car out of a gas station, loses control, and totals it. The girl with him had to get stitches over her right eye. His friends call him “EV” - they say it with a kind of a southern accent - that I can’t decide is fake or not, which gives it a hint of - “Elvis” - had a replacement car within 48 hours. He wrecked THAT one in less than six weeks - and his date got a concussion in the roll-over. If he wants me to get in a car with him, he’s gonna to have to taser me.
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24
last night, I dreamt of you; in the dream, we were holding hands while walking down the park we frequented, we were laughing, and your presence felt stronger than the times we were once together and even in the dream, I was well awake and aware; that this is nothing more than a dream
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Nov 18, 2020
Nov 18, 2020 at 10:36 PM UTC
dreamt a little dream
when Wednesdays are here, my love slowly disappear; loneliness became what I fear, when I no longer call you my dear perhaps after a year, my mind will be in the clear, my emotions, more sincere; even if some days, my feelings for you reappear, I will be brave and not shed a single tear
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Oct 16, 2020
Oct 16, 2020 at 1:50 AM UTC
Wednesdays are here
Kindest boy with a library that reached the ceiling and the same personality as my best friend, they would talk about movies in the middle of the street at three a.m. Everyone wanted us to end up together but it would never work out in the end. Moody boy with dark circles that rimmed his eyes, always wanted to talk about romance. He looked at me with the softest eyes but couldn't hold a conversation to saves his life. I don't know why but I always think about him when I'm feeling bright and blue. - dates at seventeen.
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Jul 29, 2020
Jul 29, 2020 at 5:14 PM UTC
dates at seventeen.
‪You’ll take us to the same places‬ ‪You’ll sing us the same songs‬ ‪To you they’re just disposable, ‬ ‪To me it‘s something more‬
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Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 11:24 PM UTC
Dates
In the moments before she leaves When her hands sweat bullets With full anticipation of the future to be She looks in the mirror, worried. She looks out the window, he isn't there yet. She looks back to the mirror, Her hair is a mess, she fixes her bangs to one side, She looks again outside, he isn't there yet. She's pacing, wasting time in anxious She notices her make-up smudged While he's driving down the road Looking in his side mirror to judge Why she agreed to an evening Leaving him self-conscious of his soul His eyes meet his eyes and in his own gaze He feels he could swallow himself whole. Pulling into the driveway, He inhales deep and says "Don't let this one get away" He walks to the door feeling his pulse She walks to the door trying to breath slow He thinks she's going to look perfect She thinks he's going to look perfect She turns the **** and pulls The ending, time will only show.
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Jan 2, 2020
Jan 2, 2020 at 5:03 PM UTC
How it looks
The bird struggled to its feet The day had finally come In fear the bird gave a small tweet The first flight is frightening to some Fly or fall, two options nothing more nothing less To me this is comparable to my own stress I asked her out, she said yes. I thought my trial had ended I flew from the tree and didn’t fall But now is the greatest test of them all Will I survive the world of prey? Or will I fall victim and dark be my days? No one knows til the end is come Not even the bird itself until it has lived a full life and bourn it’s young. Or one with the earth the bird has become
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Nov 27, 2019
Nov 27, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
First Flight
Did I chicken out or was it not the time? The moment was so fine but not right The fight within me ceased It was a feast of joy and of song Nothing could go wrong Maybe next time i'll see if with her I belong.
0
Nov 25, 2019
Nov 25, 2019 at 10:35 PM UTC
When the moment's right
September 25th 2018 You decided it was finally time, Time to see if we worked. We sat and watched baseball for hours And then went on a walk. That was the day you let me in, The day I knew you were different. November 13th 2018 Our first official date. We met each other at the school dance, It was late and chilly. Red on black, A first kiss. The world stopped for just a second. February 14th 2019 Valentines day, You surprised me at school. You were concussed, but still came across the city for me. Hot chocolate, heart shaped home made cookies, and a rose. I trusted you. March 16th 2019 The day after your birthday, It was a party and I came late. The basement was freezing, but you stayed awake to make sure I wasn't shivering. I stole all your body heat that night. You said you'd never let me go. March 25th 2019 You decided I wasn't enough. Out in the courtyard, We were drifting a part. I cried twice that day. I loved you April 15th 2019 My birthday. You said you missed me, but it wasn't worth it. I cried myself sleep. I knew I lost you. You left several times, But, You came back each time. Are you worth it? No. Will I still give you a chance? Always. A photo cube of memories. Me & you.
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Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 1:09 AM UTC
Me & You