Dhia Awanis Dec 2016
Nostalgia is a beautiful phenomenon
It's when life seemingly happier,
more adventurous, and less chaotic

People frequently romanticize and misplaced it
As a neverland, wonderland, you name it
More often than not, they think it's all they have left

As I grow older, I can see those fragment of memories
Vividly, so crystal clear that it almost feels real
But baby, nostalgia is a psychological illusion

So, come to your senses now
Recall this as a mantra
Breathe in, breathe out

He's not a history—he's a tragedy
EJR Jul 22
I hear your name everywhere
Your whispers in the buzzing of the bees
Your exasperated sighs in the beeping of the cars
Your ecstatic storytelling in the humdrum of random noises

I see you in every hue
Your calm demeanor in shades of blue
Your road rage in shades of red
Your cheeky laugh in shades of yellow

I taste you in every way
Your kiss in this smooth black chocolate
The warmth of your hand in this bowl of soup
Your icy stare in gulping this cold water

I smell you in every scent
Your warm hug in this cup of coffee
Your compassion in this bouquet of Stargazers
Your glistening eyes in this cigarette

Doctors, please help me
I have the rarest case of synesthesia

When it comes to you,
My brain malfunctions
My senses, once numb, feel everything
All at once
In the most passionate and
In the most heightened sense

To feel you in everything.
To experience you in every way.

My eyes only see you
My nose only smells you
My tongue only craves you
My ears only hear you

My brain only perceives you

My synesthesia
Is only in the form of you.
I heard Pablo Neruda has synesthesia.

So i wondered,
What is it like to feel everything in all kinds of way?

Original title: Syn[an]astasia
A May 2017
i started ordering it decaf
when i realized that i'd
be keeping myself up at night
thinking of you

don't want the bittersweet,
the recollection;
i just needed your affection

never thought this drink would show
what we've been through
[f.]
grace snoddy Feb 25
i stand in a graveyard.
i see, though i am blinded by the past.
i see millions of tombstones surrounding me,
each one has words i dare not read.
i am scared,
and i am alone.
though i am not alone, there are ghosts who hold faces that are familiar around me.
they tell me that the light shall come soon.
they promise me this.
i do not believe them,
i have been fooled too many times.
and as i walk throughout this graveyard i come to a realization;
no matter how many ghosts stand by my side,
i am the only one who is of real flesh and bone.
who stands above the ground and not beneath it.
i cannot come to terms if this is good or not.
Jazmine Jul 2015
Maybe I can breathe without  you
Maybe the pain won't go away but it can dull

I see now that I can live
Not how I once was
But I will try to get damned near close

I can't stop my life
Because we stopped or love
Let it be grey.
It has never rained like this before,
I like it this way.

I don't care if it is night or day.
For all the times I have felt sore,
Let it be grey.

They will not come today.
No one will knock the door,
I like it this way.

There is nothing for me to say.
I want to listen to the clouds roar,
Let it be grey.

The wind whistles my stress away.
And I have nothing to cry for,
I like it this way.

My mind wanders away.
My eyes marvel at the downpour,
Let it be grey.
I like it this way.



Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018. All Rights Reserved.
I leave this poem to your perception. Feel free to interpret it the way you want to. Happy reading!
Özcan Sh Jul 22
If I had 88 keys in my life
I could show you my world
Full of rain and sunshine

Let you feel my feelings
Flow with you through the river
And be together like black and white keys

But i can´t

My 55 keys wasnt enogh
To reach my song
Through your ear
To your heart

But I still love
To play with my keys.
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