It has been years since we have been apart,
But you will always live in me.
I wish we could go back and restart.

A sad smile and a broken heart,
Like the old branches of a tree.
It has been years since we have been apart.

I do not have words to start,
The clock strikes twelve thirty three.
I wish we could go back and restart.

I seek solace in art,
I hope it can set me free.
It has been years since we have been apart.

We are now miles apart,
Your face is what I wish to see.
I wish we could go back and restart.

I sit in my room with our to-do chart,
And you are not next to me.
It has been years since we have been apart.
I wish we could go back and restart.










Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018. All Rights Reserved
I have been trying to learn this style of poetry, Villanelle. Let it be grey was one such attempt and this is another one. I hope you like it.
Iskra Aug 6
Laying in my bed curled up
Acid in my throat because I didn’t eat
Clenching my fists around my blankets because I can’t sleep

Are you thinking of me?
Laying in a tent, uncomfortably,
Snuggling close to your fluffy white dog or your younger brother to stay warm.

Are you missing me?
No. Not the way I’m missing you
You’re not thinking of me the way I’m thinking of you
And though it means the world to me that a beautiful soul like yours is friends with a storm cloud like me, it shatters my heart into thousands of sharp, jagged pieces that you’re ~ just ~ my friend.

“I’m sorry but I need to know, is it mutual? It’s alright if it’s a no, I can handle it, I just want you...to be honest”
A pause...
Then the raindrop falls.
“Right now, it’s a no”

Ripples.
Right now.
Right now.
Right now.
No.
No.
No.
STOP.
I care about you so much, I know I need to let you go, so you would never read this, and I would never show anyone this. It’s all swirling around in my chest, faster and faster until it explodes, word vomit and tears.
I love you.

I didn’t tell you I loved you, only that I had feelings for you.
Why bother? It would’ve made things more painful for me, more bitter for you.

But I can’t show you this. I don’t want you to change. I don’t want you to change the way you speak to me, to change your mind when you’re about to type a heart emoji, to stop yourself after just saying “goodnight” and leave out the “baby”

This is my undoing, not yours, and I want you to keep letting me be your anchor, your shoulder, your shield, my open arms waiting to catch you when you tumble from your flight. I can’t keep loving you, I can’t stop loving you. I want to stop feeling at all.
Janelle Tanguin Oct 2017
The last time I loved
I knew exactly
what I wanted,
I was so sure--
it had to be
you.

It had to be
awkward laughs, soft music,
coffee brown eyes
half-asleep,
a house full of dogs,
vinyls,
chamomile tea.
I just knew,
believed,
it had to be
you and me.

I am always running,
looking for fire exits,
secret passages,
ways to escape,
always wanting
to be somewhere else--
anywhere else

but with you
I stopped running--
started wanting
wooden floorboards,
walls and a person
I could finally call

home.
In a wakeful contradiction, it lays fact between my fiction,
Tangling subatomics, it unravels as its tricks spin
deeper toward the outward...
                         it won’t let up, 'til I give in.

Over matter, lay my mind…
I tell a lie to pass the time...
But there’s no reason nor a rhyme --
                                      Less still, a purpose?
I search for something to remind my mind
                                      that there’s truth that isn’t worthless…

But as always, failure appears;
                                        in a sort-of amnesic continuity.
And my reality lies to my own mind
just as well as it succeeds in its futility.
With destruction as its manifest,
It tells me that I stand my tallest
                                       Upon two buckled knees.

Just as faith will find one’s doubt --
                           a search within has left without.
It seems that an answer, once sought out,
                          will be left lacking its question.

My truth divides itself, as a product of infinite misdirection.

I try to substitute a reason for a rhyme.
But with no lies left to pass the time...
                                                                 I swallow a dose of ignorance.
                                                       It goes down smoother than the truth.

A war that started with a truce,
This world betrayed my faith to show me
                                                            That I'm only tall enough
                                                            Once I’ve been cut down slowly.

Like a pill too large to swallow, I think I’m choking on myself . . .
Or the irony of asking, “How could I be so careless?”
Here I stand, Barely standing,
                   Consumed almost entirely
                              By my own dry-heaving self-awareness...

Left to fight the fears that my nightmares create
I’m still running from my past, yet haunted by my fate.
                      They walk beside me always, shadowing wholeheartedly —
                      Existing as a duality, both apart from, and a part of me.

These ghosts have taught me very little...
                                    Aside from what I hate.
But, I've come to learn not to fear
                                    The forceful hands of fate.
For I shudder not at the thought of destiny,
                                    Or the inevitable in time...
Instead, I fear the eventuality
                                    of the choices that were solely, and entirely, mine.

I fear that my will may be of enough influence, alone...
That fate itself may collapse beneath decisions like my own.
                                                   Or that I, myself, might be constructing
                                                                      What destruction I will find,
                                            Among my shattered spirits and convictions,
                                                                In these depths to which I climb.

ashton May 14
I didn't choose it
I didn't wake up one day and tell myself
let's be anxious
let's be depressed
let's want to die
let's start self harming
I didn't choose to be like this

slowly my problems
my monsters
became visible
they started small
skipping lunch
making a cut or two on my hand
shaking for a while in school
but I fell

I didn't choose to be this person.
We just get handed who we are.
I didn't choose this.
I never wanted to be that

I didn't want to be riddled with anxiety and insecurities,
to wallow in self-pity and sleep for hours everyday
to stay up all night with anxiety
to steal razors
to eat one-hundred calories and then barf it back up
but that's what happened.

I didn't choose this
I didn't choose
I didn't choose to tear apart my life.
it just
happened
I'm really good right now but in a reflective state currently oof
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