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#oldlove
Flurries of city noise between the two armchairs -- On the dumping ground.
0
Apr 10
Apr 10, 2026 at 4:11 AM UTC
Flurries of city
To say he loved her would be an understatement. He adored her like a gardener adored the art of gardening. I can imagine them as newlyweds— her serving hot tea for both of them, and him doing the dishes alongside her. She was not just his deceased wife, or someone he loved back in time: she is the only soul he would love for the rest of his life which is close to death, like a leaf that is close to falling off from a tree. People use grand gestures to speak of love, to prove their love. But for her, his warmth was enough, and his smile was valuable. For him, only her luminous, ethereal presence brought the will to live. Two souls bound together by marriage, living through different seasons in life, and ultimately falling in love. To find your soulmate in a complete stranger is a rare blessing. Like the swift current of a river, years floated by. "In health and sickness," people recite during their wedding vows. He didn't know that she meant it— He didn't know that she would move him around while he had to use his wheelchair, that she would feed him every one of his meals patiently. She never made him feel like a burden. On the contrary— he was the one person she never wanted to lose. Perhaps that's why she had to go first. And when he found her, devoid of life, he searched for her soul everywhere. Under the bed, in the cupboards, among the walls... Where did his beloved go? Why was she hiding from him? When realization dawned upon him, he wept, raged— "Do not touch anything in her room! Let it be, let things stay where they are. Let the room stay the way it did when she felt. Let it be untouched." He guarded the dozens of sarees she owned, kept in the shelves. Her scent was still living between the folds, carrying a fragment of her self. After the funeral, he picked up the newspaper and found her photo in the death column. She was gone— she really was gone. After carefully cutting out the photo, he kept it on his bedside table, and when sleeplessness tormented him, he would stare into those eyes he fell in love with, a lone tear rolling down his cheek. La tragedia del amor es que pasará.
0
Apr 3
Apr 3, 2026 at 2:33 PM UTC
The Way of Grief
To say he loved her would be an understatement. He adored her like a gardener adored the art of gardening. I can imagine them as newlyweds— her serving hot tea for both of them, and him doing the dishes alongside her. She was not just his deceased wife, or someone he loved back in time: she is the only soul he would love for the rest of his life which is close to death, like a leaf that is close to falling off from a tree. People use grand gestures to speak of love, to prove their love. But for her, his warmth was enough, and his smile was valuable. For him, only her luminous, ethereal presence brought the will to live. Two souls bound together by marriage, living through different seasons in life, and ultimately falling in love. To find your soulmate in a complete stranger is a rare blessing. Like the swift current of a river, years floated by. "In health and sickness," people recite during their wedding vows. He didn't know that she meant it— He didn't know that she would move him around while he had to use his wheelchair, that she would feed him every one of his meals patiently. She never made him feel like a burden. On the contrary— he was the one person she never wanted to lose. Perhaps that's why she had to go first. And when he found her, devoid of life, he searched for her soul everywhere. Under the bed, in the cupboards, among the walls... Where did his beloved go? Why was she hiding from him? When realization dawned upon him, he wept, raged— "Do not touch anything in her room! Let it be, let things stay where they are. Let the room stay the way it did when she felt. Let it be untouched." He guarded the dozens of sarees she owned, kept in the shelves. Her scent was still living between the folds, carrying a fragment of her self. After the funeral, he picked up the newspaper and found her photo in the death column. She was gone— she really was gone. After carefully cutting out the photo, he kept it on his bedside table, and when sleeplessness tormented him, he would stare into those eyes he fell in love with, a lone tear rolling down his cheek. La tragedia del amor es que pasará.
Continue reading...
15
You went away, I went on loving you and out of the blue there you are at my door with a sleeping mat I look at you You drop anchor and want to show all kinds of things, explaining them with your hands and I have no idea how this suddenly happened I'm just glad I was home, am home I make soup There is rye bread We are hungry Old hunger
0
Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 3:12 AM UTC
Old hunger
Three years ago to this very day, I signed something of my soul away; But that is love that doesn't last, And present lives the longing past, Though nothing of your face remains In aught I look at, and the pains Are well-healed scars, and I did best To put all mementos to rest, I even ceased to sing your songs, Then made them my own, for these wrongs; And still something of your prosody Remains in my voice's melody.
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Apr 25, 2024
Apr 25, 2024 at 1:32 PM UTC
24th April, 2021: Where is this?
Somedays I wish I were your mirror For days you doubt yourself and your lips start to quiver The days you second guess your outfit To me, just to see you would be more than enough profit From your encapsulating gaze and river-like hair Would keep me staring at you for hours Wondering are you faring well Every remark causing me to dispel To every outfit too tight, bright, just right To every single compliment, gorgeous, Insatiable, a delight I'd rarely be blind Justice, you'd look good in everything Wishing moments like these were everlasting On your off days, to your worst Whenever you feel cursed The reflection may be blurred, but never lies Your tears only bring out the beauty of those portals to your soul, gateways to the brain Not being able to touch you would be insane If I were ever punished to become any object I'd choose to be your mirror and never object
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Oct 9, 2023
Oct 9, 2023 at 10:22 AM UTC
If I were your mirror
Your lips whispered a curse and brushed against mine. Soft, like sparrows' wings, inebriating as wine. I know I am lost now, wandering so many city streets wondering if you'd find me here and take me off bare feet. I am calloused, I've become raw. How can you, so far away remember me at all? The street lights are turning on now it will soon be dark. Tell me how to live without a heart.
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Nov 19, 2023
Nov 19, 2023 at 12:12 AM UTC
Do you think of me, like I think of You?
It is not just the firsts It is everytime, every interaction Never growing used to you Makes for everything to be special But it's a first for me To be captivated by someone To know enough that shouldn't leave me surprised but does eveytime When you leave it's nothing new A ping of pain anchored to my heart But I deny familiarity I will see you again and all will be okay
0
May 31, 2023
May 31, 2023 at 7:14 PM UTC
Familiarity
I once looked into your eyes, and felt time stop. I once looked into your eyes, and saw nothing but black. I’ve seen you soft, glowing and free; I’ve also seen things you never wished for me You turn as though caught in the phases of the moon; full of light, half dark – a black hole in the sky And somehow, every time I looked up, you just never failed to catch my eye And whether love is long lost, and our futures set in stone, I keep your memory tucked tightly away, so that neither of us can truly be alone.
0
Dec 11, 2022
Dec 11, 2022 at 7:33 PM UTC
New Moon
And I could just send him that poem Because I know it's up his alley I could, but it's a love poem And we remember well what happened last time I sent a love poem to his alley: I lost it, until it returned, smeared in grime, Torn up, upon the wind that carries the tumbleweed And all my hopeless songs that I carried at the top Of my then hoarse voice, now silken, sleek, with the greed Of the alley-cat who knows how to survive the outcrop Of shallow inconveniences like love, papercuts. And we all know papercuts only hurt kids.
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Jun 10, 2022
Jun 10, 2022 at 3:53 PM UTC
I could, but I think I'm older than that
I love the smell of that oil the one I rub in your hair the one that clings to my hands and to my skin slowly seeping in I can almost hear it..... nestle in my molecules becoming becoming you. I love the sound of that door the one that scrapes on the hardwood floor the one that announces me and lets me in slow..ly I can almost see it lodging in my brain. becoming, becoming you. I love the taste of that lavender the one that we killed... the one that clung to your breath and to your fingertips delicate I can almost smell it settle in my bones... becoming, becoming you.
0
Jul 4, 2021
Jul 4, 2021 at 3:41 PM UTC
Old Love
all the time. The night I let myself love you entirely. The way my brain broke down from resistance to the time left. I've never FELT that out of body.
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Apr 29, 2021
Apr 29, 2021 at 9:53 PM UTC
I still think about it
i’m glad that i met you but i'm not sad that you left.
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Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 3:23 PM UTC
no regrets
officially it has been two years, unofficially one. I am happier elsewhere, and I can imagine you are too still you remain my inspiration for poetry, art, and my thoughts. when I see her there with you, I am not sad, and I am not not happy mostly, I wonder — do you think about me still? do you compare her to me? I did, I compared him with you even though I promised to him and myself that I wouldn’t but the mind does what it wants do you fight like we used to, loud and aggressive? or does that require years of confidence built up by baby love do you love like we used to, admittedly & comparatively selfish and shy? or was that our teenage bodies remaining in us past our 20th mostly I try to remember how being freshly loved by you was so much intense frustration, in all ways, endless giggles, but often nights with dawn sorrow. of course, I need to remind myself that there was bad my mind tries to only highlight the good with you mostly I wonder how such intense fighters could turn to such formal friends and mostly, I am disappointed that you haven’t told me about her yet.
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Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 10:55 AM UTC
tell me about her
You’re down an acceptable amount of pleasure I close my eyes I’m in the moment I drift I’m not here It’s not you Now I feel The one that was before I feel him I smell him I see the light I hear the street I miss your taste Your thoughts Your words I miss the moments after I’m back Did you notice I’ve been on autopilot?
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Sep 14, 2020
Sep 14, 2020 at 9:31 AM UTC
Away
There lies the abandoned park bench We sat there a year ago Now stained with infinite dust, rain Pouring torrents of strange anger and Pulsing sorrow- a heaving chest Rising and falling , tide like crest Certain gravity to the fall, to the fallen (pun unintended) Unceasing in releasing; Dusk, dawn Fall , rise Black, white Just universal polarity like The one between you and me. A hand to hold, a smile to crave, A heart to feel, a love to cherish; All now lies washed down Dust in the rain Solitary drops now remain.
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May 12, 2020
May 12, 2020 at 1:06 PM UTC
Drops and dust
Brown hair I miss when you cared
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Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 11:27 AM UTC
Brown Hair
In another universe we would have been soul mates, and in another we would have been best friends. Now we are neither. Just fading memories and that's okay. But sometimes I need you not to love or make love to but simply to talk to. You knew me more than anyone else. Even on the days you didn't quite love me. Maybe you could tell me what my heart wanted right now because my love life feels like a disaster. It's painful and exciting all at once and for all the wrong reasons. And I wish you were sitting next to me telling me exactly what I want. So I could disagree only to discover you were always right. That's how we worked. Or maybe that's how we fell apart. All I know now is that I don't love you anymore and that's the most liberating feeling I have ever truly known. I was trapped in this vortex of you. The one where I was determined to have you. And the problem is, the man who pulled me out of the vortex is no longer the same man making me happy. He's no longer the one making my heart twinge the way it use to for you all those years ago. But I'm wearing a ring I made engraved with forever. I'm trying to fall in love again. Because I loved him so much I swear. And I wonder if this is how you felt when we ended. When I would come over and crawl into your bed. I wonder if you tried to fall in love with me again the way I hope I fall in love with him again. And I want it known I do love him but I want to be in love. He makes me smile. But sometimes he makes me cry. Sometimes he makes me really hate myself. And I know I can be a sensitive person but I don't think he quite sees how his words break me sometimes. I want to choose him. I do. I want to say that one day too; I do. But here I am with this twinge in my heart that I'm trying to bury or force away. I tried that with you. I did. But I still ended up loving you nine long years. Tell me first love of mine. How do I say goodbye before I've said hello? How can I choose him? Because the love in his eyes remind me so much of the love I had in mine for you once upon a time.
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Feb 27, 2020
Feb 27, 2020 at 5:56 AM UTC
Dear First Love,
In another universe we would have been soul mates, and in another we would have been best friends. Now we are neither. Just fading memories and that's okay. But sometimes I need you not to love or make love to but simply to talk to. You knew me more than anyone else. Even on the days you didn't quite love me. Maybe you could tell me what my heart wanted right now because my love life feels like a disaster. It's painful and exciting all at once and for all the wrong reasons. And I wish you were sitting next to me telling me exactly what I want. So I could disagree only to discover you were always right. That's how we worked. Or maybe that's how we fell apart. All I know now is that I don't love you anymore and that's the most liberating feeling I have ever truly known. I was trapped in this vortex of you. The one where I was determined to have you. And the problem is, the man who pulled me out of the vortex is no longer the same man making me happy. He's no longer the one making my heart twinge the way it use to for you all those years ago. But I'm wearing a ring I made engraved with forever. I'm trying to fall in love again. Because I loved him so much I swear. And I wonder if this is how you felt when we ended. When I would come over and crawl into your bed. I wonder if you tried to fall in love with me again the way I hope I fall in love with him again. And I want it known I do love him but I want to be in love. He makes me smile. But sometimes he makes me cry. Sometimes he makes me really hate myself. And I know I can be a sensitive person but I don't think he quite sees how his words break me sometimes. I want to choose him. I do. I want to say that one day too; I do. But here I am with this twinge in my heart that I'm trying to bury or force away. I tried that with you. I did. But I still ended up loving you nine long years. Tell me first love of mine. How do I say goodbye before I've said hello? How can I choose him? Because the love in his eyes remind me so much of the love I had in mine for you once upon a time.
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1
How does one fall out of love with someone who was once their entire world? There was once a time I saw my future with you, Traveling the world, having kids, eventually having grandkids running around our house. Now I look at you and all I see is someone I do not know. You used to be so sweet, But this world has made you cruel. I used to think I could never spend the rest of my life without you, But now I see I cannot go on living like this. All we are is strangers now.
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Jan 28, 2020
Jan 28, 2020 at 9:16 AM UTC
Strangers
Every time I look at you I see the future Your hair a light shade of grey, Crows feet beside your bright blue orbs I could not imagine ever spending the rest of my life without you, Nor would I want to You are my first true love, And my last ~sdr
0
Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 4:38 PM UTC
My Love
You interest me. If only I could have come to my senses sooner. If only I choose quality over distance. If only I would have looked In front of me. If only i had gotten sober sooner, or never became an addict at all. You simply fascinate me with every part of your soul. It makes me sad to know that you and I will never work out now. It makes me sad to know that ******* you, is the only way I can get close to you again. It makes me sad that I think sometimes and almost believe, that you just are using me. You make me want to learn about your life. I want to hear about your job. I want to hear about your day. I want to hear about the struggles and the ups and downs. What happened with your car. Why did you stop wearing your cross? I want to hear it all. You always made me happy, and always took care of me. Even though I was just a friend. Even though I lead you on. Even though I never told you how I feel. Even though I didn't deserve your support, or help. You make me want to love you, but you will never love me. For my mistakes. For my imperfections. For myself. I am unsure how to feel. I feel like I need to explain myself, but don't know where to start or what to say. I am to scared to push you away again. I'm scared of ******* up. I'm scared of it all. But you also make me feel at peace, while I'm also now anxious, wanting to know what you think. But you also never tell me how you feel or anyone really. I want to know you. All of you. I want you to know who I really am. Not the idea you have of me currently.
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Dec 25, 2019
Dec 25, 2019 at 1:49 AM UTC
Brandon
You interest me. If only I could have come to my senses sooner. If only I choose quality over distance. If only I would have looked In front of me. If only i had gotten sober sooner, or never became an addict at all. You simply fascinate me with every part of your soul. It makes me sad to know that you and I will never work out now. It makes me sad to know that ******* you, is the only way I can get close to you again. It makes me sad that I think sometimes and almost believe, that you just are using me. You make me want to learn about your life. I want to hear about your job. I want to hear about your day. I want to hear about the struggles and the ups and downs. What happened with your car. Why did you stop wearing your cross? I want to hear it all. You always made me happy, and always took care of me. Even though I was just a friend. Even though I lead you on. Even though I never told you how I feel. Even though I didn't deserve your support, or help. You make me want to love you, but you will never love me. For my mistakes. For my imperfections. For myself. I am unsure how to feel. I feel like I need to explain myself, but don't know where to start or what to say. I am to scared to push you away again. I'm scared of ******* up. I'm scared of it all. But you also make me feel at peace, while I'm also now anxious, wanting to know what you think. But you also never tell me how you feel or anyone really. I want to know you. All of you. I want you to know who I really am. Not the idea you have of me currently.
Continue reading...
44
it's been a while your cuts, they don't bleed anymore but, as thick as my skin now is looking at you wearing someone else's smile still ***** me up
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Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 1:46 AM UTC
to tell you the truth
It has been well over a year and I had this sudden surge of curiosity What happened to the person whom I called my dear? Was she happy and living in prosperity? Or did her life fall into hardship? You have your dream job and dream boss Your graduation must have put the cherry on top Our friendship could have stood the test of time But it was turned on its' head like the flip of a dime I still remember our last words like yesterday and it still fills me with great dismay The person who drove us apart is nowhere to be seen Is that how long it has been I also see you found new love I hope he makes you happy, my dear Dove
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Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 9:42 AM UTC
Old "Friend"
Dear diary.  May 12 . Friday. "Gettin' up was the first mistake I made today Maybe if I'd stayed in bed I wouldn't hurt this way For now I'll have to face the world admit that we're all through And begin my first day without you." I wake up today with dry tears and punch of eyebags. Scrolling my phone.  And here again,  i received a text from him saying "im tired" i cant help but burst tears again.  So i decided to off my social media's. And to be brave to blocked him to avoid bursting my tears again.  Cause i know,  you will never come back again and i cant do anything but to see you walking away.   Diary,  now,  i have to fixed my things. Cause ill be leaving far away today with a heavy heart.
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May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 1:24 AM UTC
Old letter
if i had known that the pain i'd have to endure by you would eventually earn me him i would cut my own wrists and watch them bleed i'd let you wound me with your vocal weapon i'd beg you wrap your hands around me around my swollen neck bruise my heart until you're satisfied and leave me in pieces spread them far and wide enough so that he will find me somewhere find me everywhere leave me empty enough so that he can fill me up and mend the cracks of my battered surface let him be the soil that sows my seed the core to my being then we shall grow together and bloom in unison forevermore in sunlight
0
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 5:42 PM UTC
Matchmaker