#nostalgic - Hello Poetry

Vows still warm on your tongue, maybe you didn´t mean for it to sting. Asking if my side of the bed stays cold, like you still wanted to watch me fold. Gold ring catching the light, as you stood there in crisp white, your poor bride out of sight.

0

5d ago

May 30, 2026 at 3:21 PM UTC

nostalgic-feeling

Bride Out Of Sight

Vows still warm on your tongue, maybe you didn´t mean for it to sting. Asking if my side of the bed stays cold, like you still wanted to watch me fold. Gold ring catching the light, as you stood there in crisp white, your poor bride out of sight.

7

Between five and six the tree in the front yard casts its reflection on my wall. The blue hour and absolute silence, solitude, absent crowds waiting to drift back into the flow. I fade with the smoke. My eyes stay fixed on that white house stuck in time; red flowers surrounding it, wilting against the fence in exhaustion. The morning dew and the first rays of light are the only living things; strange, senseless doors barely opening to continue the ritual of the day. I face them and see only floating heads, without faces, without colour, moving from one side to another, losing their direction. No one sees me, and I remain, walking along a parallel plane, without the spiral touching me, without my face fading away, without the dying light making me disappear.

0

6d ago

May 29, 2026 at 10:13 AM UTC

MariaFernandaLuna

Nycta

Between five and six the tree in the front yard casts its reflection on my wall. The blue hour and absolute silence, solitude, absent crowds waiting to drift back into the flow. I fade with the smoke. My eyes stay fixed on that white house stuck in time; red flowers surrounding it, wilting against the fence in exhaustion. The morning dew and the first rays of light are the only living things; strange, senseless doors barely opening to continue the ritual of the day. I face them and see only floating heads, without faces, without colour, moving from one side to another, losing their direction. No one sees me, and I remain, walking along a parallel plane, without the spiral touching me, without my face fading away, without the dying light making me disappear.

31

The only honest thing in the room is the color blue not Mr blue, the blue is deep and it’s also true, It bends and shifts , through every hue, Mr blue twists, He turns , so sudden and without a cue, Just like the heart inside of you, You ache, You break, And falls apart, It crumbles with your heavy heart, To die with you, to share your pain? A storm inside, like endless rain.. Do you drown in waves you made? An ocean built from scars that stayed. Blue’s not just a gentle shade, It’s the truth you can't evade. Because deep down you know, You are Mr Blue

0

May 23

May 23, 2026 at 12:08 PM UTC

Loserinthebackseat

Mr blue

The only honest thing in the room is the color blue not Mr blue, the blue is deep and it’s also true, It bends and shifts , through every hue, Mr blue twists, He turns , so sudden and without a cue, Just like the heart inside of you, You ache, You break, And falls apart, It crumbles with your heavy heart, To die with you, to share your pain? A storm inside, like endless rain.. Do you drown in waves you made? An ocean built from scars that stayed. Blue’s not just a gentle shade, It’s the truth you can't evade. Because deep down you know, You are Mr Blue

20

Some times you wonder How the rain ran through your sweat soaked hands Pressing into the ground Fingernails scraping the surface of some Vision And you see the mirror This puddle You see your hair Cut short and cropped Sitting in a monotone reality And you go home And eat Quinoa Splash You fall back You fall forwards And you see the mirror Rain running through your sweat soaked hands

0

May 19

May 19, 2026 at 7:16 PM UTC

rosebuds11

Muddied

Some times you wonder How the rain ran through your sweat soaked hands Pressing into the ground Fingernails scraping the surface of some Vision And you see the mirror This puddle You see your hair Cut short and cropped Sitting in a monotone reality And you go home And eat Quinoa Splash You fall back You fall forwards And you see the mirror Rain running through your sweat soaked hands

18

Oh, sometimes I dream... Dream with my eyes open Of a time when I drifted along the ballroom floor In the hands of a stranger I dream of secret meetups at night under oak trees Where laughter serves as a warm embrace in the chilly night And the night sky is clear, The moon and stars lighting up my path I dream of masquerade ***** Where secret, curious glances are exchanged Where the welcoming scent of sweets floats, Dancing with the soft scents of perfume and new clothes I dream of luscious gowns, suffocating corsets and ridiculous, beautiful hats Of carriages pulled along by majestic horses And the bumpy ride that follows as I head out, as I listen to the comforting rhythm of hooves pounding the ground I dream, and yearn, knowing it's of a life I've never lived

0

Apr 20

Apr 20, 2026 at 2:10 AM UTC

sxci_is

An Ongoing Dream

Oh, sometimes I dream... Dream with my eyes open Of a time when I drifted along the ballroom floor In the hands of a stranger I dream of secret meetups at night under oak trees Where laughter serves as a warm embrace in the chilly night And the night sky is clear, The moon and stars lighting up my path I dream of masquerade ***** Where secret, curious glances are exchanged Where the welcoming scent of sweets floats, Dancing with the soft scents of perfume and new clothes I dream of luscious gowns, suffocating corsets and ridiculous, beautiful hats Of carriages pulled along by majestic horses And the bumpy ride that follows as I head out, as I listen to the comforting rhythm of hooves pounding the ground I dream, and yearn, knowing it's of a life I've never lived

16

find me when the smoke clears from my ribcage where my heart was ablaze find my soul amongst the rubble of forgotten memories and dreamless nights take my bones as your own grind me down once again free me to the sky on a windy day as i always do ill find my way back to you

0

Apr 17

Apr 17, 2026 at 12:30 PM UTC

teni

bones.

find me when the smoke clears from my ribcage where my heart was ablaze find my soul amongst the rubble of forgotten memories and dreamless nights take my bones as your own grind me down once again free me to the sky on a windy day as i always do ill find my way back to you

13

I’m a collage of everyone that’s left, everything that's gone. I still tell the joke my best friend told me in highschool, I still hum my grandmothers favorite song, I order the same thing my boyfriend used to order, I still write my name like they did, I still hear their laugh in everyone’s voice, I’m a mosaic of everything I’ve ever loved, and everyone I’ve ever known

0

Apr 1

Apr 1, 2026 at 12:35 PM UTC

AbruisedBrokenThing

Mosaic

I’m a collage of everyone that’s left, everything that's gone. I still tell the joke my best friend told me in highschool, I still hum my grandmothers favorite song, I order the same thing my boyfriend used to order, I still write my name like they did, I still hear their laugh in everyone’s voice, I’m a mosaic of everything I’ve ever loved, and everyone I’ve ever known

9

Houston we have a problem though I leave with a heavy heart, these last few weeks have taught me how quietly a city can grow inside you. I will miss the Mahatma District— its restless streets breathing after sunset, falooda drinks cold in my hands, the sweet weight of red bean pastries in Chinatown. I will miss riding down Bissonnet with dembow spilling into the night air, windows down, sunroof open, the city rushing past like a long song. Somehow, I made a home here. in a place that once made me feel like a stranger standing in the wrong doorway. Now i know the skyline by heart— its towers stretching toward the sky, their glass catching the last light of evening, always just out of reach. I could name the corners I loved, the streets that held my footsteps, the small places where life paused for a moment— but that is not all you are. Here I learned how a heart can open. Here I learned how it can break. I have loved. I have lost. and slowly, without noticing, I became someone new. You hold more than 145 languages, voices crossing one another like rivers— a thousand distant homes gathered in one place. Nineteen year-old me from a rural, country town could never have imagined such a beautiful thing. Not long ago I felt your strength and your wrath. you made me feel small like a grain of sand beneath your storms, like someone the city might forget. You can be relentless— too fast, too wide, too loud. and yet now, leaving, I find myself wishing only for a little more time to wander your streets. A few more nights with the windows down and the music moving through the dark. Houston, we have a problem— because somewhere along the way you became part of me. and I already miss you.

0

Mar 12

Mar 12, 2026 at 8:54 PM UTC

NoHayPila

Ode to Houston

Houston we have a problem though I leave with a heavy heart, these last few weeks have taught me how quietly a city can grow inside you. I will miss the Mahatma District— its restless streets breathing after sunset, falooda drinks cold in my hands, the sweet weight of red bean pastries in Chinatown. I will miss riding down Bissonnet with dembow spilling into the night air, windows down, sunroof open, the city rushing past like a long song. Somehow, I made a home here. in a place that once made me feel like a stranger standing in the wrong doorway. Now i know the skyline by heart— its towers stretching toward the sky, their glass catching the last light of evening, always just out of reach. I could name the corners I loved, the streets that held my footsteps, the small places where life paused for a moment— but that is not all you are. Here I learned how a heart can open. Here I learned how it can break. I have loved. I have lost. and slowly, without noticing, I became someone new. You hold more than 145 languages, voices crossing one another like rivers— a thousand distant homes gathered in one place. Nineteen year-old me from a rural, country town could never have imagined such a beautiful thing. Not long ago I felt your strength and your wrath. you made me feel small like a grain of sand beneath your storms, like someone the city might forget. You can be relentless— too fast, too wide, too loud. and yet now, leaving, I find myself wishing only for a little more time to wander your streets. A few more nights with the windows down and the music moving through the dark. Houston, we have a problem— because somewhere along the way you became part of me. and I already miss you.

56

I saw you looking my way Across the smoky room With your cigarette Your half smile, piercing eyes Drew me in Through mist of evaporating sweat You took me away Stumbling into euphoric nights Lost in your world Wrapped in the rapturous Seduction of a beautifully Strange girl Held ransom by an Unfiltered, unpretentious Warmth of affection We quickly became Disoriented and mystified By our new obsession

0

Feb 14

Feb 14, 2026 at 9:32 AM UTC

kaden-malis

New obsession

I saw you looking my way Across the smoky room With your cigarette Your half smile, piercing eyes Drew me in Through mist of evaporating sweat You took me away Stumbling into euphoric nights Lost in your world Wrapped in the rapturous Seduction of a beautifully Strange girl Held ransom by an Unfiltered, unpretentious Warmth of affection We quickly became Disoriented and mystified By our new obsession

18

if the walls and my phone could talk they'd say some unspeakable things, but that's okay because the walls are supposed to hold many secrets and all my memories

0

Feb 12

Feb 12, 2026 at 8:22 PM UTC

TheVoidest

Nostalgia

if the walls and my phone could talk they'd say some unspeakable things, but that's okay because the walls are supposed to hold many secrets and all my memories

1

Upon my shelf Out of context And braced Presented without signs Capture, contained, on the inside Amusing in my past life Now embalmed, docile and lasting Inanimate but fitting A presence beside me as a sit in I decided to trade My reach for being saved Joining my den The lover of near bent Together now I stay without breaking Forever on the ledge

0

Feb 7

Feb 7, 2026 at 5:09 PM UTC

kevin-8

Upon My Shelf

Upon my shelf Out of context And braced Presented without signs Capture, contained, on the inside Amusing in my past life Now embalmed, docile and lasting Inanimate but fitting A presence beside me as a sit in I decided to trade My reach for being saved Joining my den The lover of near bent Together now I stay without breaking Forever on the ledge

16

As my mother read the obituaries, I heard a name I hadn't heard in years. He was invited to one of my oldest birthdays, And like my father, he hunted deer. Now he's gone... A phantom in the wind, His name bouncing in my head, I swear that we were friends, At least before kindergarten. I'd always wonder how he had been, Now I have my answer, One of my first friends, Now dead...

0

Dec 30, 2025

Dec 30, 2025 at 8:39 PM UTC

ReeceAE

A Phantom in the Wind

As my mother read the obituaries, I heard a name I hadn't heard in years. He was invited to one of my oldest birthdays, And like my father, he hunted deer. Now he's gone... A phantom in the wind, His name bouncing in my head, I swear that we were friends, At least before kindergarten. I'd always wonder how he had been, Now I have my answer, One of my first friends, Now dead...

13

She flew into my dreams like a sparrow, And turned my life into joy from the sorrow. I remember the past with her like yesterday, yet her beautiful face has faded away from my memory. I may have forgotten her face, But not the way I felt her grace. The way she walked, the way she talked, The way she made my life full of happiness. Her voice still comes into dream, Clearing away the nightmares like a gleam. I may not recall her beauty clearly, But I'll never forget how it felt being with her eagerly. She may have became a memory of yesterday, But my heart will always remember her like a lover of yesterday.

0

Nov 23, 2025

Nov 23, 2025 at 11:59 PM UTC

aadip

A Lover of Yesterday

She flew into my dreams like a sparrow, And turned my life into joy from the sorrow. I remember the past with her like yesterday, yet her beautiful face has faded away from my memory. I may have forgotten her face, But not the way I felt her grace. The way she walked, the way she talked, The way she made my life full of happiness. Her voice still comes into dream, Clearing away the nightmares like a gleam. I may not recall her beauty clearly, But I'll never forget how it felt being with her eagerly. She may have became a memory of yesterday, But my heart will always remember her like a lover of yesterday.

13

I took my son to the lumberyard last Tuesday afternoon. The day itself, though toasty, was the best in quite some time. And when we’d finished shopping - after loading what I’d bought he glanced across the highway at the Woolworth’s Five and Dime. “Dad,” he said, “you promised me, on more than one occasion you’d take me into Woolworth’s for a shake… and, man… it’s hot!” Truth is - he was right, and being 98 degrees, I smiled to prove I didn’t mind he’d put me on the spot. Fact is, twenty years ago, I’d worked there as a youngster, just the way my dad had… and his father, Zachery, too! Glancing down at Gavin, his expectant little grin tipped the scales reminding me - his turn was overdue. “Great idea,” I countered, as we hopped back in the pickup - then headed ‘cross the road to browse a store we'd often shop. The huge, two-story building -- there since 1896 -- was where, as kids, we’d often gone for licorice sticks and pop. Mom and Gran were Woolworth's girls. It’s where they bought material you only see today in pictures taken long ago! Amazing how the fashions change. Just check your oldest albums. Once you’ve turned a page or two, I promise you… you’ll know. What they wore, and how they wore their hair, is quite amusing. Gavin held the door for me, then followed me on in. I watched him as he scanned the place, his face transfixed in awe as his mind absorbed the quaintness of - the way it was back then. Dangling from the ceiling were a bunch of iron kettles, lined up by their sizes, maybe six or seven rows. Panning ‘round the massive room, like all first-timers do… I smiled to watch my youngest being baffled by his nose. Unfamiliar smells he’d never known were all around him. The slightest trace of Black Jack - Clove - and Beeman’s filled the air. Jars with sticks of peppermint and horehound lined the counter, and ads for things extinct for years were posted everywhere. The mesmerizing ambiance would captivate his thinking. The wonderment that filled his mind was glowing on his face. “Golly, Dad,” he fin’ly quipped, “you’re right about the feeling... it’s just like stepping back in time. I really like this place!” “So do I,” I countered. “Don’t forget… I used to work here! And so’d my dad, and even his old man -- Great Grandpa Zach!” We wandered through the whole **** store and though their goods were current, the unmolested store displays abruptly took us back. By seeing things that older people always found in stores, like: pants and jackets hung behind an aisle of sliding doors… Several waist high counters lined with pencil-labeled drawers... and escalators - (found in only those with second floors), And watching, as it carried shoppers slowly up and down - (those shiny, long, hypnotic stairways always turned my head) - Gavin - now immersed in all the way-back-when nostalgia - didn’t even notice it when - “It's time to go,” I said. I placed my hand below his neck and steered him toward the counter. The gorgeous marble, veined with greens and grays, was glowing bright. A flower-blossom-figured shade with pink and olive panels proudly crowned the soda fountain’s alabaster light. I watched him read the labels on the row of syrup dispensers - most providing flavors from a very distant time. A few examples: Sarsaparilla -- Ginger Ale -- Banana -- Grape and Cherry Julep -- Dr. Pepper ---- even lime! “Man, if I could get a job here,” Gavin softly said... “they wouldn't have to worry about me showing up for work!” That was when I spotted - near their tarnished old brass register, a tiny notice advertising --- “Wanted – Soda **** Gavin hadn’t seen it yet so I said, “Here’s a twenty... order me a Ginger-Ale, and get yourself that shake. And don’t forget, son - what you wind up doing for a living - often proves - in 'Life' to mean much more than what you make! “Hey, how about that register,” I added... “ain’t it classy?” hoping, when he ordered, that he’d spot the little sign. It worked. He fin’ly saw it. And as no surprise to me - he spun around and found my face… locked his eyes on mine… And beaming like he does when he’s excited, he announced - “They’re lookin' for a soda **** Can you believe it, Dad?" I felt a little nervous when I paused to contemplate - this would be the first and only job he'd ever had! Glad he’d asked, despite the fact I had some reservations -- (he’d had his sixteenth birthday only seven days before) -- There he stood imploring me to offer him my blessing, all fired up, anticipating working in that store. “Tell her - when she brings our drinks, you’d like an application. Working in a place like this ‘d really do ya' good. I talked to Mom the other day and left it up to her if you could get a job or not, and she agreed you could.” He filled the application out while snarfing down his milkshake, took it to the office, then we headed toward the door. “Golly, Dad,” he told me, as we headed off for home, “I can’t think of anything I’ve ever wanted more!” “I really hope you get it, son,” I told him as I drove, “‘cause not too many stores like that have stood the test of time, And I’d be tickled pink if generation number 4 would hold the job of - 'Soda Jerk' - in that old 'Five an' Dime'!

0

Nov 15, 2025

Nov 15, 2025 at 1:04 PM UTC

stink1950

4th Generation Soda ****

I took my son to the lumberyard last Tuesday afternoon. The day itself, though toasty, was the best in quite some time. And when we’d finished shopping - after loading what I’d bought he glanced across the highway at the Woolworth’s Five and Dime. “Dad,” he said, “you promised me, on more than one occasion you’d take me into Woolworth’s for a shake… and, man… it’s hot!” Truth is - he was right, and being 98 degrees, I smiled to prove I didn’t mind he’d put me on the spot. Fact is, twenty years ago, I’d worked there as a youngster, just the way my dad had… and his father, Zachery, too! Glancing down at Gavin, his expectant little grin tipped the scales reminding me - his turn was overdue. “Great idea,” I countered, as we hopped back in the pickup - then headed ‘cross the road to browse a store we'd often shop. The huge, two-story building -- there since 1896 -- was where, as kids, we’d often gone for licorice sticks and pop. Mom and Gran were Woolworth's girls. It’s where they bought material you only see today in pictures taken long ago! Amazing how the fashions change. Just check your oldest albums. Once you’ve turned a page or two, I promise you… you’ll know. What they wore, and how they wore their hair, is quite amusing. Gavin held the door for me, then followed me on in. I watched him as he scanned the place, his face transfixed in awe as his mind absorbed the quaintness of - the way it was back then. Dangling from the ceiling were a bunch of iron kettles, lined up by their sizes, maybe six or seven rows. Panning ‘round the massive room, like all first-timers do… I smiled to watch my youngest being baffled by his nose. Unfamiliar smells he’d never known were all around him. The slightest trace of Black Jack - Clove - and Beeman’s filled the air. Jars with sticks of peppermint and horehound lined the counter, and ads for things extinct for years were posted everywhere. The mesmerizing ambiance would captivate his thinking. The wonderment that filled his mind was glowing on his face. “Golly, Dad,” he fin’ly quipped, “you’re right about the feeling... it’s just like stepping back in time. I really like this place!” “So do I,” I countered. “Don’t forget… I used to work here! And so’d my dad, and even his old man -- Great Grandpa Zach!” We wandered through the whole **** store and though their goods were current, the unmolested store displays abruptly took us back. By seeing things that older people always found in stores, like: pants and jackets hung behind an aisle of sliding doors… Several waist high counters lined with pencil-labeled drawers... and escalators - (found in only those with second floors), And watching, as it carried shoppers slowly up and down - (those shiny, long, hypnotic stairways always turned my head) - Gavin - now immersed in all the way-back-when nostalgia - didn’t even notice it when - “It's time to go,” I said. I placed my hand below his neck and steered him toward the counter. The gorgeous marble, veined with greens and grays, was glowing bright. A flower-blossom-figured shade with pink and olive panels proudly crowned the soda fountain’s alabaster light. I watched him read the labels on the row of syrup dispensers - most providing flavors from a very distant time. A few examples: Sarsaparilla -- Ginger Ale -- Banana -- Grape and Cherry Julep -- Dr. Pepper ---- even lime! “Man, if I could get a job here,” Gavin softly said... “they wouldn't have to worry about me showing up for work!” That was when I spotted - near their tarnished old brass register, a tiny notice advertising --- “Wanted – Soda **** Gavin hadn’t seen it yet so I said, “Here’s a twenty... order me a Ginger-Ale, and get yourself that shake. And don’t forget, son - what you wind up doing for a living - often proves - in 'Life' to mean much more than what you make! “Hey, how about that register,” I added... “ain’t it classy?” hoping, when he ordered, that he’d spot the little sign. It worked. He fin’ly saw it. And as no surprise to me - he spun around and found my face… locked his eyes on mine… And beaming like he does when he’s excited, he announced - “They’re lookin' for a soda **** Can you believe it, Dad?" I felt a little nervous when I paused to contemplate - this would be the first and only job he'd ever had! Glad he’d asked, despite the fact I had some reservations -- (he’d had his sixteenth birthday only seven days before) -- There he stood imploring me to offer him my blessing, all fired up, anticipating working in that store. “Tell her - when she brings our drinks, you’d like an application. Working in a place like this ‘d really do ya' good. I talked to Mom the other day and left it up to her if you could get a job or not, and she agreed you could.” He filled the application out while snarfing down his milkshake, took it to the office, then we headed toward the door. “Golly, Dad,” he told me, as we headed off for home, “I can’t think of anything I’ve ever wanted more!” “I really hope you get it, son,” I told him as I drove, “‘cause not too many stores like that have stood the test of time, And I’d be tickled pink if generation number 4 would hold the job of - 'Soda Jerk' - in that old 'Five an' Dime'!

86

His warm body melted my cold heart There it was - all along He was my key solution during my tribunals sweetness and substance that nourished my bitter heart back to life Why must I see this now standing in your shadow

0

Nov 13, 2025

Nov 13, 2025 at 9:33 AM UTC

danny-

Nostalgia

His warm body melted my cold heart There it was - all along He was my key solution during my tribunals sweetness and substance that nourished my bitter heart back to life Why must I see this now standing in your shadow

10

As the evening turns to dusk, and the night creatures no longer lusk, The earth now covered in a blanket of rain, all hearing its slow refrain. Many wrapped up in their bed, unlike the night creatures ahead. Children runny in it's tears gaily. enjoying the change from their daily. Engrossed in a book and coffee. connecting life to the book's philosophy The sweet patter of rain and laughter Something I'd hear everyday hereafter. I replay every moment of my life, smiling at all the memories till my death. The sky turning from dusk to night, the sun's farewell and the stars bright. The dark abyss covered in diamonds, revisiting all the sweet moments. Now the night creatures no longer lusk, As the evening has turned to dusk.

0

Nov 8, 2025

Nov 8, 2025 at 8:44 AM UTC

Megha

The Rain

As the evening turns to dusk, and the night creatures no longer lusk, The earth now covered in a blanket of rain, all hearing its slow refrain. Many wrapped up in their bed, unlike the night creatures ahead. Children runny in it's tears gaily. enjoying the change from their daily. Engrossed in a book and coffee. connecting life to the book's philosophy The sweet patter of rain and laughter Something I'd hear everyday hereafter. I replay every moment of my life, smiling at all the memories till my death. The sky turning from dusk to night, the sun's farewell and the stars bright. The dark abyss covered in diamonds, revisiting all the sweet moments. Now the night creatures no longer lusk, As the evening has turned to dusk.

20

Tell me again Your favorite memory of us Because all of them Were my favorite

0

Nov 7, 2025

Nov 7, 2025 at 8:56 AM UTC

LanceRemir

My Favorite

Tell me again Your favorite memory of us Because all of them Were my favorite

4

Do you remember those summer nights we spent together? Long summer nights driving around our quiet hometown streets. You'd pick me up in your Dodge Charger, and we'd park out front of Easton High and listen to our favorite music from our sophomore year while looking out at the empty football field in the distance. We'd share a bottle of Jack Daniel's and talk about how fake our friends were, and how your girlfriend was the fakest of them all. And when there was nothing left to say, your hands would find me in the dark, pull me closer, and we'd slip into the backseat, where you'd make me yours, whispering in my ear, telling me how I was your girl and that you loved me, and I believed you because there was no other boy who ever came close to you, not then and not now. We haven't spoken since the start of senior year. Will we be intimate again, or are you still not ready to tell anyone about us? The fires of love have grown and if we don't burn together, I will burn alone.

0

Nov 3, 2025

Nov 3, 2025 at 7:14 AM UTC

notacoppola

Nathan Caulfield I Will Always Love You (Summer Nights)

Do you remember those summer nights we spent together? Long summer nights driving around our quiet hometown streets. You'd pick me up in your Dodge Charger, and we'd park out front of Easton High and listen to our favorite music from our sophomore year while looking out at the empty football field in the distance. We'd share a bottle of Jack Daniel's and talk about how fake our friends were, and how your girlfriend was the fakest of them all. And when there was nothing left to say, your hands would find me in the dark, pull me closer, and we'd slip into the backseat, where you'd make me yours, whispering in my ear, telling me how I was your girl and that you loved me, and I believed you because there was no other boy who ever came close to you, not then and not now. We haven't spoken since the start of senior year. Will we be intimate again, or are you still not ready to tell anyone about us? The fires of love have grown and if we don't burn together, I will burn alone.

1

There is a red covered bridge not too far from here with a wooden plank floor where all time disappears A creek runs underneath rippling and running deep currents filled with colored leaves pushing through steadily Enclosed by shade filled trees I can feel it calling out to me Sometimes in my mind I imagine back in time who may have wandered through did they have the same point of view? Was it just as beautiful to them a small slice of heaven?

0

Sep 27, 2025

Sep 27, 2025 at 1:19 PM UTC

sherri-woodman

The Red Covered Bridge

There is a red covered bridge not too far from here with a wooden plank floor where all time disappears A creek runs underneath rippling and running deep currents filled with colored leaves pushing through steadily Enclosed by shade filled trees I can feel it calling out to me Sometimes in my mind I imagine back in time who may have wandered through did they have the same point of view? Was it just as beautiful to them a small slice of heaven?

1

The twigs remind me of ancient a memory, muted by time and our efforts to forget. You remember how You’d snap a twig into two, then we’d sword them off, like two chivalrous knights, queer knights that feared a shared sunset together more than Battle. What happened next? the next memory seems to slip away from me too, imitating you.

0

Sep 10, 2025

Sep 10, 2025 at 8:45 AM UTC

imadafdam7

nostalgia

The twigs remind me of ancient a memory, muted by time and our efforts to forget. You remember how You’d snap a twig into two, then we’d sword them off, like two chivalrous knights, queer knights that feared a shared sunset together more than Battle. What happened next? the next memory seems to slip away from me too, imitating you.

15

On that day - the day thou wert born, flashed 'cross: A seed had been sowed in the garden - a seed from Above, Months ago been sowed to grow with HIS Grace, Growing by HIS Grace to reach the Will of Heaven, Their world shook with expectations-emotionally struggled, He was on his way towards the newly- knit cradle, The mother on the couch of pain wriggled, The good Samaritan stood beside the cradle, The clock, striking seven seconds to four, raised its silent alarm, The babe, released from the womb, gave a mumbled cry, And it was a cry like the nightingale's song, Yea, she was born by HIS Grace. These memories flash 'cross now to be painted in my verse 21 years after, Yea, she's now entering 22. The Lord is always beside her And she is God's Gift.

0

Sep 8, 2025

Sep 8, 2025 at 6:39 AM UTC

mbj-pancras

Memories traversed across the mind....

On that day - the day thou wert born, flashed 'cross: A seed had been sowed in the garden - a seed from Above, Months ago been sowed to grow with HIS Grace, Growing by HIS Grace to reach the Will of Heaven, Their world shook with expectations-emotionally struggled, He was on his way towards the newly- knit cradle, The mother on the couch of pain wriggled, The good Samaritan stood beside the cradle, The clock, striking seven seconds to four, raised its silent alarm, The babe, released from the womb, gave a mumbled cry, And it was a cry like the nightingale's song, Yea, she was born by HIS Grace. These memories flash 'cross now to be painted in my verse 21 years after, Yea, she's now entering 22. The Lord is always beside her And she is God's Gift.

16

Happiness hurts. Because though I'm laughing I can't help remembering another time I laughed just like this. It kills me that I wish to go back. And when months or maybe years pass. I'll look back at today for the very same reason I looked back at yesterday.

0

Jul 23, 2025

Jul 23, 2025 at 10:33 PM UTC

xi_a

tomorrow

Happiness hurts. Because though I'm laughing I can't help remembering another time I laughed just like this. It kills me that I wish to go back. And when months or maybe years pass. I'll look back at today for the very same reason I looked back at yesterday.

13