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Cathyy Mar 2016
There's a letter that I'll never
Deliver to you girl you left a mess in my world,
And now things in my bedroom
Remind me of you..

See there are old cd's I burned
And paper planes crashed by the door
And song lyrics spilled on the floor
I should probably clean it all up but
A part of me just won't forget us
You must have been pretty special
Cause these days, I try not to be so sentimental..
Did you get the memo?
I've been recording demos
And someday in December,
I'll record a single'
Just you wait.
I'm not going anywhere but up,
Though things in my bedroom remind me of you, I actually don't give a ****
I'm just bringing all of this up
Because, I thought it'd be nice
To spare you a thought, and a poem
Every now and then...
Oh **** we used to be the best of friends
And in my journals there's evidence
Man its been a while and you're still relevant..
So for the hell of it
Let's raise a glass....
Oh in my room theres a few birthday cards
But as the years go on, i get less and less of those
And theres a lava lamp, thats pretty small.. But thats okay
Cause its next to my cd player thats still playing my first mixtape..
So oh yeah, let's raise a glass..
To the person I am today,
Darling you said we all have to change
Well if i did, it came from a place of pain..
Thanks for the positive response on the last two poems! But this is typical Cathy now! A new little freestyle :)
loriann capra Jul 24
i watched the sunset from my room,
and mused at the thought of you;
it’s not the same —
colors melt just beyond my curtains,
they’re drawn shut because i miss you;
i wonder if i’m on your mind —
if i lit up your night sky,

i’m sorry i never liked the beach;
i only liked it when it was you and me,
and the moon and the stars,
and all the night our hungry eyes,
could see.

i am wracked,
with a profound sense of loneliness,
that can only be solved,
by the caress of the boy,
that i adore;
tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

i must stutter most when i’m in love.

clever Sep 4
you say that you could replace me,
and i would believe you if,
when you said it,
you could look me in the eyes.
Äŧül Jul 13
We are getting married one day,
The next night we shall make love,
You will be my dear peahen darling,
And oh! Only I shall be your peacock,
We shall ****** each other lovingly,
Your dam will be breached when,
Steamy love is made standing...

We would take a bath together,
My hands will be on your peaks,
Your hands'll be on my shoulder,
Getting closer we'll just get bolder,
The lovehole'll swallow lovepole,
Our rhythm'll get much harder,
'Oh yes baby!' So we both cry!!!

In the end, both of us attain *******.
I promise to help you to ****** each time we have *** in future.

Related to a largely ignored aspect of equality.

My HP Poem #1751
©Atul Kaushal
Megan Jones Jul 10
Walking up the stairs, it was quiet
Feeling that old **** carpet, like pillows beneath my toes
The house smelled the same, of dust and wood, sometimes
a hint of clean laundry and vanilla candles
Approaching the room - hit like a stroke - or a baseball
to the left eye in 1998

A museum of furniture, clothing, trophies, memories-
Notes whose meanings no longer could be immediately recalled,
And some we wouldn't want to remember
A slip of paper, under my mattress, it read "Please
just let me say I'm sorry one more time, I can't lose you"
Signed, The First Girl I Thought I Loved
She now has three children and goes on vacations to Lake Tahoe
To see the sunset, to breathe again and again

I searched everywhere for the box, the one where we
keep sentimental **** because it feels wrong to throw it away
Then I remembered the day she threw it in the street, saying
"You think they care about you? You think any of these people know what you really are? Nobody will ever love you like your mother loves you"
The screen door cracked that day and my memories
Oh, they flew away like paper airplanes, flying so high

I sighed to release myself, to be free of it
Grabbed the bright red canister and began
Drowning the time capsule, the mausoleum, familiarity dissipating
I lit the match, paused for a brief moment of silence
Then watched as it was devoured, chemically altered

You both preserved this room, just the way it was
Locked me in that room, throwing away the key
Safeguarding these memories, only the ones easier to swallow
Maybe if it never changed, then I would not have
Maybe if it all stayed in place, it would be ready for my return
Let this serve as a reminder
That room killed me, and now it dies with you.
I'm writing a series about control. The ways in which people manipulate time, memories, feelings etc. as a means of determining and predicting what free-thinking individuals do/feel/say... All, supposedly, in the name of love or as a means to preemptively protect themselves from being subjected to the uncontrollable.
Jordan Rowan Jan 2016
The night sounds of fallen angels
Building stairways back to home
And the radio plays softly
Like a crooner left alone
As the night falls into the velvet shades
And beats down the bedroom door
Of all the visions that come to me
It's of one I'm hoping for

The postman closes up the station
And the buses get cleaned with rain
The asylum rests and barely breathes
As the countryside goes insane
Prophets speak of peace
On the dim hue of TV screens
Of all the moments that seem real
I still wait to watch my dreams

Imposed upon the westward wall
Are the silhouettes of weeping oaks
Swaying in the wind that talks
But they only tell me jokes
Swept beneath the silver stars
Sleeping on blanket clouds
Of all the space above me
I feel as if I can't get out

Headlights and passing trains
Sound like time passing by
Gone are the hearts inside
Like the years beyond my eyes
Sounds from the suburb city
Blow like sirens in my mind
Of all the thoughts within me
Only one freezes time
Jordan Rowan Dec 2015
It's like a diamond stake pushed through the silence of my brain
It's like a thunder of voices coming down like a hurricane
It's like a forest of gunfire blowing past my bedroom door
It's like the force of a god pushing down on my floor

Whip smart, by all accounts, but lost beneath the sheets
Forced out of a comfort zone and pushed out to the streets
Spastic changing voices like a record out of line
Just speak like you always do and don't **** with my mind

I'm like a tidal wave that only gets halfway there
No shore to erode with no Taiwan to even care
I'm like a promise left on the kitchen table after dawn
Someone will find it but it will be thrown out on the lawn

Born without a spoon but there is silver in my teeth
I'm made out of as much spirit as a plastic, clearance wreath
Dust beneath the stars cancels out the dawning sun
Shine on the bums, the prophets, everyone
Clear sun on the bedroom wall,
Doves cooing secrets outside.

Here in the kitchen,
bright scent of orange oil
as it’s skin gives way.

I'll open just one today.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
Tim Kearns Aug 15
outside the bedroom window
speckles of white clouds
upon the ending sky
the vanity of my blue eyes
along her dark naked flesh
the sounds of late summer echoing
through our candled rooms
the curtains parted
the air heavy with moisture
our clothes strewn about
the hardwood floor again
a sheen of sweat
traced upon our entwined bodies
our souls abraded with
the delirium of love
King Panda Dec 2016
You are bold
the inspiring queen
of Fs and
and I
a crafty lizard
this christmas mug
from which you drink
these scissors with
which I shred
our stories all
come together
on top
of a golden rose
24 carat
sampled with
my teeth
in my bedroom
all of it
is yours
the last coin
my luck
from yesterday--you got your grades in on time, twin...with style and 20 extra minutes.
gracie Jul 2017
Perhaps we never truly met
until I heard your voice of flowers
spill hydrangeas across the carpet
of my bedroom at 3 am.

Those whispers of nothingness
that smell oh so sweetly in the night
begin to wither away as sunrise creeps in
through the window I forgot to close tight.
Patricia Feb 2018
//the door to your bedroom was a portal to a world unseen

your bed, the ocean
& your sheets, the sand
with the crevices caused by the tide
it flowed so sweetly over the soft sand
beyond the door, serenity was foreign to you

you were only there when you needed to be

you, who had knit the thickest wool to pull over my eyes
thicker than the blindfold we used
the frenzy I remember
frenzy further cured with discipline
and you know what?
"I like that ***** ****."

how will you discipline me today, daddy?

it was what you taught me after all
to be a brat for no one but you
to be no one else's little girl
if not I'd be a bad girl
bad girls get punished
bad girls get no love

so I saved you the trouble and left my collar at the door//

This coup
A new nation
Loyal dedication
Its classification

‘Species procreation’
Prevents us from facing
A human cessation
selective mutation

It may help explaining
The reasons
But not the foundation
Or actions
We’re basing

A simplification
is “continuation”
A checkbox
left vacant
We’re chasing

We sweat
Eyes are gazing
A slight
In need of hydration
Complete excitation
Intense stimulation
Deep urges
Heart racing

By sensations

Unbounded fixation
Time no longer wasting

This capitulation
a Sanctification
****** gyrations
Hint of *******

The bedroom
Safe haven
For what
we are craving
Once out
and displaying

It all had been taken
Feeling vacant
Freed imagination
A resuscitation
Indulged depravation

A rhythm
we’re setting
The giving and getting
the bedding

All else I’m forgetting
with each other
Like entangled netting
on the same trip
In a unified heading

Now comes
the summation
A true
Smash all expectations

That lasts the duration
Loud gasp
We unlock

Filled with gratification
Written: July 8, 2018

All rights reserved.
I L U like my ***** clothes
Love being forgotten
On my bedroom floor

I L U like chores love the
music that helps them
forget they're chores

I L U like ***** dishes
Love hot showers and
the other side of the sink

I L U like I love spilling
Salt, and warding off the evil
By tossing over my shoulder

I L U like I love
Breaking rules about
my own supposed
Bulletproof non-Superstition

I L U like black cats love
Bad luck, cause to them,
It's just Friday, you know?

I L U like the hot dog bun
Loves staring at the beef patty,
Wishing "if only, if only"

I L U like bread loves
Being forgotten till we're really hungry
And then we're all ungrateful, like
"Hey bread, you remember us?"
And bread is high above us, like
Not even a hint of scorn

I L U like the first time I saw
Jurassic Park, The dinosaurs
Were real enough for me,
Even sans chicken feathers, and
Who needs modern science anyways
when love has no fossil records?

I L U like the weather loves
Surprise parties.
I L U like painful
surprise party memories love
being forgotten on my bedroom floor

I love you like Mayflies love living,
oh so briefly, once a day, every single day,
Chapter one to chapter none

I love you like mayflies love themselves,
brevity and all, stirred by nothing but
the glow of Dawn's light,
Dead by dusk, the Mayfly never fully
completes metamorphosis, so it dies
in complete incompletion,
but that's okay.

It drank the salt ocean,
it breathed the living air,
And that's how I want to L U
Mayflies are cool little buggers.
Carter Ginter Sep 2014
White, my hands of ice
Warmed by the chilled blade upon my palm.
A touch of red
Blurs pink.
No light,
Just white, and fade
The frozen air begins to warm
as the water drips from my soul
onto the bedroom floor.
kevin hamilton Dec 2017
captive audience listening
to the hornets pouring out of me
i was running fingers
listlessly down your face
and dreaming of acid rain
—a picture in my head
that refused to die

ever mindful
of the bedroom door
hinging on your aches
and unborn eyes
the reanimated heart
and i saw distorted visions
of what awaits us all

a rising overture
from behind the veil
warm, wet handed
in a bath of blood
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