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James LR Mar 2018
A little battered, a little worn
A little stained, a little torn.
Bits of sweat and blood and tears
Stretched from sleep throughout the years.

It isn't much, but it's like me
Filled with care and memories
The white no longer holds it's glow
But it's still warm and soft and so
If you need my sweater,
I'll give it happily.
I know you'll wear it better
And with you I will be.
Skaidrum Jun 2015
You told me the sky was your favorite poem.
"What do you see?"

Silver switchblade eyes cut the horizon into dozens of little clouds.

"I see a crib and a graveyard."

Why?

"Because if you'd think a little harder my love, you'd understand the true meaning of 'this place is both my home and my coffin.'"
.
I'm depressed again.
How fitting.

© Copywrited.
September Roses Mar 2018
Little house
Timeless street
Childhood garden

The scent of your preschool playground after a storm on a Wednesday in may

The distinguishable noise of your parents' doorbell

The weepy feeling looking at childhood photos and knowing you'll never get those moments back

The melancholy moment you realize the book you're reading was your favorite bedtime story

The second the atmosphere shifts and you're suddenly thrown back to memories of your mothers embrace on a stormy night

The suffocating feeling of revisiting tales thinning at the ends as your recollection slowly fades

The slipping grip of what once was that will never be again, slowly turning faded and acid washed until its nothing but a feeling you cant put a name to

Nostalgia
Iz Dec 2018
You don’t like to pick favorites
You dont like to narrow your interests down to one
That should have been my warning
I coundnt be your only love
Lydia Sep 2018
mornings like this remind me of us
when we first started out
cold air and cigarettes
your hand in mine, warm and loving
soaking up every second just to have one more minute with each other before reality sets in and we have to be just you and just me
instead of we
cold nights wrapped up in blankets and each other
unable to stop kissing and laughing and talking
all the "I miss you's" and the "wish you were here" over the phone while we stayed up to talk way past when we should have been in bed
the nights out having a drink and then singing on the way back to your house to cuddle in bed and watch TV until we can't keep our eyes open anymore
the cold makes me feel warm
filling me up with good memories I get to keep
I love you so much Benjamin. My constant muse and inspiration and truest friend and lover I could ever ask for ♡
Bella Nov 2018
The map of our country is stained in cranberry juice
the streets are red with blood
and in the south red flags hang like ignorance
or like all those sentenced the death penalty

isn't red such an American color
raven arcane Jun 2017
Of all my what ifs,
My might have beens,
It's clear that,
You are my favorite.

But, as I wander around,

Of all your what ifs,
Your might have beens,
I ask myself:
Am I your favorite?

              —a.c
Robin Lemmen Aug 2018
Our entire relationship I felt
like all I was doing
was waiting for you and I to break
like goodbye was only one kiss away

And when I finally started feeling
like maybe, just maybe
we would prove ourselves wrong
you left me in shambles on the floor
shards of our favorite memories
cutting deep and letting me bleed
flowers painted red

I can't seem to escape
everything feels laced
with your winter remnants
blooming a stark white contrast
to my deep dark wounds
leaving broken roses everywhere
bekka walker May 2014
I could just **** as I masochistically type your name into the search bar at the top of the page.  
I want to erase you from my memory,
but my browser catches your cookies.
I don't even know what those cookies are.
the cookies from the jar?
the cookies from my mind?
the cookies from my computer...
the cookies you ate that one time.
Oreos.
Those were your favorite.
Who the **** brought up cookies?
I could just **** as I masochistically type your name into the search bar at the top of the page.
please excuse me while i go ****
September Roses Feb 2018
Imagine a Person
just like you
living parallel to you
their life a parallel line to yours
a Person who finds the same thrills as you
loves nothing more than your favorite artist
your passions exactly the same
living your life
singing your songs
painting your paintings
a Person so uncannily made for you
someone that you would instantly click with
someone that would watch sunsets with you
someone you would never let go of till the day you die.
someone impossible
because you just never quite meet
someone you just miss by some cruel circumstance
and you'll always miss them
because you see the thing about parallel lines
they never meet
WordsHelp Jan 12
You are a complex rhythm
I want to dance to endlessly.
My favorite song,
permanently on repeat.
Hooked first by how catchy the tune was,
But now completely captivated
by every lyric I memorize
And how my fingers tap along to every melody.
I fell in love with your song
And now, I never want to hear anyone else's.
Knit Personality Dec 2015
The Christmas Pig is red and big,
      And creeps around his stall
While playing out his favorite gig
      As Santa at the mall.

* .
Phiness Guzman Sep 2014
i took one deep breath,
and exhaled you out.
for you are my favorite,
but you are toxic.


p.g.
you, my dear, are my cigarette. i love you, but you are slowly destroying me.
Rachel Sep 2018
I mean,
he always said
on me,
he liked the color green.

He said purple and blue
'those colors were made for you.'

He says
he can't decide between yellow and black,
On me,
they made him crazy,
a maniac.

When I was a teen,
I also liked purple and green.
I liked them too!
...black and blue

I just wish, so badly
they weren't put there by you.
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