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 Nov 2015 blanc
Alvira Perdita
i've never felt
more alone
than when
you leave
without
warning
Short.
 Nov 2015 blanc
Erin Williams
how can I stay sane
when you are beauty
and I am vapid
how can I understand you
when you are free
and I am boxed in
how can I keep you
if you are barely near
and I am always in the same place
how can we remain
when you float freely
and I merely glide around
how can I stay sane
if you are beauty
and I am vapid
 Nov 2015 blanc
Erin Williams
Maybe
 Nov 2015 blanc
Erin Williams
maybe you could make it more obvious,
that you don’t want me.
that it would be easier,
if I was gone.
maybe you could help me feel like I wasn’t alone.
maybe you’re just waiting for the day
that I tell myself the horrible things you’ve always wanted to say to me.


maybe one day you’ll realize
I tell myself every one of those things
everytime I close my eyes
 Nov 2015 blanc
Erin Williams
Although I am capable it is still not the same,

while I can still fall, feeling will never again sustain,

the aftermath of such a complex question,

leaves nothing behind but lost affection,

present’s dream is future’s longing,

only the ocean’s waves are reliably calming,

though these eyes of mine have all but closed,
this small hidden ***** remains posed,

rhythmic pulses of shattered feelings, 

bring ashore nothing but my soul’s peelings,

and as the sun calms the waves,
 my unexplored path continuously paves.
 Jul 2015 blanc
Jasmin
Melancholia
 Jul 2015 blanc
Jasmin
The sky knows
how much I wanted to reach you.
The stars heard
the never ending wishes I had
to hold you through.
The rain saw
the tears I poured
synchronous to its droplets
when I was thinking of us two.
Old photographs have tracked
every gaze I made
before I let go and start anew.
This is the poem I made that I also posted on Tumblr.
 Jul 2015 blanc
Jasmin
; (20 words)
 Jul 2015 blanc
Jasmin
I don't know what is worse:
Happy moments that can't be experienced again, or
The tragic memories we can't forget.
 Jul 2015 blanc
Jasmin
Her existence
 Jul 2015 blanc
Jasmin
She wanders,
guided by her lost soul.
She spills arts,
coming from her pure heart;
She writes words no one can understand,
yet she speaks it like it was kept in her mind
for so long, just waiting for someone to find it.
She is a masterpiece of her own,
but she has a heart of stone.

— The End —