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Dark Fjord Oct 28
i'm glad and sad
don't know if you can understand
a cross i asked to be lifted off me
new foreign language escapes
and so afraid
cry into my pillow
cannot have a love
look for pretty things
around my aimless drive
tingly yellow leaves in my mouth

a train whistles blows me to sleep
rumbles the bed we live in
my young tightly held to me
KM Hanslik Jul 2
Keep your eyes soft and your dreams
up on the highest shelf so you won't take them down too early;
keep everything that you spill in the dark locked
behind your teeth during the day, don't bring it out before dusk;
like secrets we drip over sidewalk cracks
from cotton-candy sticky fingers and leave our names
dissolved under each other's tongues, the warmth of you is keeping me company
as I try to crawl out of my blood again, they told you to leave
a bread-crumb trail in case your heart becomes too watered down by just visiting
to even remember the vacation at all; you carry
kisses on the knuckles of amputated arms,
driving through parking lots with your seatbelts on,
collections of constellations growing
in the bruises on the insides of your thighs, reminders
of salt & the whites of your eyes;

I'll always carry you around
like scuffed knees and the last time I told you "I'm okay",
I wanna press my fingers into you until your skin is melded
with fire and scraps of things that I could never be,
I hope steel rods grow out of your bones and I hope you gather
bruises before you gather dust,
we are all a little lost and lonely but that never stopped
the accumulation of well-spent nights
coughing up new ways to spell my name
(it sounded foreign before you)
leave this on repeat,
we're going in again.
PS Rowland Dec 2013
Wandering life's path,
windy as it is.
Twirling through the journey before us,
in hopes of passing the quiz.

Hearts and mind collide,
speaking foreign talk.
They rarely understand each other
the words don’t match the  walk.

Decisions become harder,
then what to wear to school.
Many of our choices,
leave us looking like a fool.

On this road of life,
a fork is now in front.
Where to go from here,
is the answer you must hunt.
© All rights reserved P.S. Rowland
ThePoet Sep 2015
I pass each crowded street
Foreign, vague, and alone
My unfamiliarity is left discreet
Distant, concealed, and unknown

My eyes recollect the places
But the places remain anew
My heart will connect to the faces
But the faces remain untrue

The strangers will pass me by 
Ordinary, humble, or proud 
Their voices will laugh and sigh 
Composed, quiet, or loud 

I walked once through this door
But the door remains never open
I felt belonging here once before
But the before remains now broken

© Sarah Ahmed  (ThePoet)
Wade Cook Jul 22
I found you here, asleep
Listened to you breathe
Air reeled in, caught in the chest
Blackening our shapes
Two figures quiet in the water
Could that have been love?
We found here in the forest,
Curled around my neck
I've inched forward to see
To hear your breathing
A foreign touch folded on the cover,
Feeling the same thing
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