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SE Reimer Oct 2013
When addiction runs deep,
Like the blood in our veins,
Its impossible to kick,
Unlikely to abstain.
For we are what we love,  
And we love what we are;
It’s said that an apple, 
From its tree won't roll far.

Her parents were junkies,
Generations gone by,
So deep in her blood,
It’d be cruel to deny.
I’ve found in resistance,
I beat my head on a brick,
So no longer at odds,
I embrace life as her fix.

“Honey, can you fix this?”
She says, smiling at the sale.
At the lamp I look closely,
It stands tired and frail;
It's brass tarnished dark, 
Its wire is frayed.
In my head I say, “No," then,
“Sure babe,” someone else said.

Believing I’ve dodged one, 
I breathe a sigh of relief;
We return to our Jeep, and
Drive away down the street.
Then I glance in the mirror,
And what do I see,
It’s that LAMP in my back seat,
Staring smugly at me.

“This dresser will be cool,
In robin's-egg-blue;”

Just describing the hue,
I see her almost drool.
“Yeah, natural on top,
It's frame painted, then glazed...
You’re the best at glueing drawers!”

She adds icing with praise.

“Look, here’s a chair I found,
with pretty calico;
If you fix it's broken arm,
You’ll be my hero!
Cuz I am sure it will fetch, 
Ten times what I've paid.”

I’m a wage earner no longer,
She pays me in accolades.

That bowl with mustard yellow,
Picture frames of wood & plaster;
An old tin box, and this small broach,
A barrel chest with leather straps.
A jewelry box, 
(A lover’s locket found inside)
Each purchase she makes,
Adds satisfaction, and pride.

Her addiction runs deep,
She’s my bargain-maker;
Not a corporate girl, 
But she’s a mover and shaker.
Yes, she's my ******,
And I am her fix;
Together we’re a duo,
"Can we peak in your attic?"

In my chair as I write this,
I feel something, turn and see;
And there pinned to the cushion, 
Is a price tag poking me.
Now I’m nervous as a cat,
Wouldn’t want to fall asleep;
For fear I could wake up, 
In the back of someone else's Jeep!
************************************
My wife, born to parents who met at an auction, grew up in her family’s business,; some call in antiquing, some collectibles, some estate sales, but we call it junking.  After years away from the business, she has returned to selling at vintage shows.  We tease and kid each other, but make no mistake about it, she is excellent at what she does, particularly in restoring wood furniture!  I love working with her on those pieces that require four hands.
Jackie Mead Mar 2018
World book day 2018
All the children in fancy dress
Mums and Dads competing to be the best
Imagination running wild some of the themes are they really for the child?
Gruffalos, tortoises, turtles and bears
George's Marvellous Medicine, BFG and Hares
Darth Vader makes a show, Harry Potter, Princesses too
How much paper, material and glue?
How much time for the parent to make?
There's reading homework, maths too, extra curricular clubs, trips to the zoo
Then there's evening meal and bathtime, all of this before 7oclock
Just a few minutes for the parent to take stock
Before cutting, crimping, glueing around the clock
But on the morning all is worthwhile when photos begin to show
Of smiling children in their suits and parents all aglow
Beaming with pride in their eyes as they walk their little Minchpin to the gate not even one second late

Happy World Book Day
World book day today all the parents in work go mad for dressing their children up as characters from a book, it's chaotic fun

Little did i know that the snow would come and this would be cancelled, all schools closed, so this will most probably happen next week now, at least all the preparation is done though :)
Datore Fargo Nov 2021
I saw butterflies,
perch,
on my toes,
last night.
They fluttered down,
from the ceiling,
calling my sole,
their home.
Onyx wings,
somehow sparkle,
in the late,
early hours,
of dawn.
I ponder,
will they,
carry me,
to my end,
this time?
Only wishes,
and the anxiety,
of being lost,
again,
this time.
I dream,
of freedom,
from reality.
It’s mocking my,
illusions,
birthing them into,
hallucinations.
My brain,
broken,
haphazardly,
glueing,
the pieces,
together.
Lost,
I’m drowning,
forgotten,
I should be,
flying.
Recently I’ve been sick, I’ve been having seizures, hallucinations. Unfortunately we haven’t figured out what is wrong with me, it’s neurological. I start medicine today so I may disappear for a while, but this poem is the closest I can get to expressing me again. I hope you enjoy.
Em MacKenzie Feb 2019
I’ve been struck down again,
fully aware it’s my own doing.
Do you have a heart you can lend?
Mine’s drying from the taping and the glueing.
Oh my darling, oh my darling,
oh my sweet Clementine,
are you smiling or are you snarling,
more importantly are you mine?

Outside the window seasons blend,
the temperature holds no meaning.
I notice the change and the trend,
to ignore the withdrawals from weaning.
Oh my darling, oh my darling,
oh my sweet Clementine,
you’ve been avoiding and been barring,
but you can’t severe this line.

The stronger the initial fear
usually means the most is at stake,
and trying to prevent a single tear
can lead to the worst heartbreak.
Those who leave the best memories
usually leave us with the most hurt,
you know we can’t just live life with ease,
there needs to be some blood on a white shirt.

You can try to completely forget someone,
but putting that effort in means you’re actually fixated more,
and after all is said and done,
honestly who do you wish to be behind that door?

Oh my darling, oh my darling,
oh my sweet Clementine,
is it cleansing or more harming,
to live in denial all the time?

Oh my darling, oh my darling,
oh my sweet Clementine,
when it’s finished it’ll be starting,
and I’ll stand under the Montauk sign.
Been thinking of Eternal Sunshine a lot lately, and this came out in two minutes. Not great, but it is what it is. I picture it in the Huckleberry Finn tune also.
Sometimes a poet has to ponder upon:
substitutes
suspense
building
breaking
glueing
grooving
gazzillion
broken pieces
put back together
Love
Heart
Rhythm
pace of words

Rhythm !

Shall words be beautiful ?
Or aggressive ?

For some opponent heavy readers Lovely words just don't suffice!
Love words, cheesy romanticism and odes to beauty
turn out to be:

too easy
too light
not a delight
a psyche's cry is heard:
"Where is some drama!? For God's sake!!!"

We hear annoyed reader's comments...
"Brother, this cheesy woobadaloo, smoochy kind of poetry ain't nothing but pure ****!
An effort compared to one, two three, slight steps in muddy warm water
nothing much to do, a lurking pudding, fibble will... oh, my my
oooooohh"
no harm done
but boring
but! - there's always a - but!
some badass poetic freak
with it's head in
the clouds
tell me about Love
dear!
till
the day's tiles
are done.

"Where's some culmination!!?!!
Crime, anger, passion!!!?!!!
Terriffic twists of turmoil, sweat, deceit... !??!
At least a bit of dark matter puked on a silver platter!! Where is this abruptly amazing, abolishing lust for hedonism!!!?"*

fortune
torture
pain
lust
give me some more!
blood, thorns
screams,
tears
sweet ****!!!!  

Does beauty suffice!?!
Without duality?!
Is there a Real Poetry without
Suffering ?

Tell me poets!!
Is there a Poetry- Divine without ugliness ?!? of words, energy, meanings without a constant fight!?
inner dialogue
characters
opposition

HAIKU!?!
You can comment upon this, dear poet!
Feel free to indulge in a constructive dialogue!
;)
Kaity Nov 2017
When my ****** texted me after 3 years of silence
My body shattered
I've spent all this time picking up the pieces glueing them into place like a puzzle that doesn't quite fit
You swing at me with a hammer
Chipping away at me like the paint I chipped off the deck with my grandpa summers before I met you.
I am the opposite of forgiveness
Sharp teeth, howls of rage, and jagged edges
If our bodies turned red where unwanted fingers like claws, carved into us, I would look like I was bleeding out
I don't know when I became a space to be filled
I have made you as ghost story as possible
Using you only as a joke at my own behalf or cautionary tale.
When you're only a story I can close at night and pull out when I want to, I can pretend you've left no scars on this forsaken body of mine
But when you text me out of no where, I find you've taken my autonomy once again.
I find that I'm once again stuck between your teeth.
Every probing text is gasoline that I swallow with a smile.
You think I turn to ice because I have frozen.
I am ice turned fire
And I'll burn the whole **** world with me if I have to.
My body is constantly in fight or flight, rigid with the possibility of springing into action.
Never quite relaxed enough to forget past sins made against me.
When people ask me, with sneers on their faces, if every adams apple I see reminds me of a fist, I tell them no. Because one of the faces that haunts me has deep brown eyes and soft skin, like my own.
She hid claws under royal blue painted nails and cinnamon scented gum.
Danielle Shorr Aug 2014
She
I wonder
If she asked about me
Or if you told her
If your guilty conscience finally got the best of you
Shook you until my name bled from your mouth
Maybe
You never even mentioned me
At all
Maybe you didn't have to
Maybe it was easy
Maybe you woke up one morning
And decided that what you already had
Was much better than what you were going after
Maybe you finally understood what I meant
When I said I wasn't worth it
I never wanted to come between
But you welcomed my interference with open arms
Promised me oasis in desert future
And I caved
Because I have always been weak
Because I have always had a soft spot for guys with tattoos and turbulence
Our plane crashed long before takeoff
And somehow
I am still awaiting closure
Spend time telling myself you still think of me
Convince myself I'm still in your head
You already did the forgetting
You managed to do so with such ease
So effortlessly
Maybe you erased my number
Swallowed my image
And then trained your mind to delete
Programmed me into your brain as nothing more than homewrecker
Remember it was you
Who invited me in
In the first place
Gave me the hammer
And told me to start breaking
I split myself into two for you
Emptied out parts I kept deep inside
Poured myself in your hands
Painted my skin transparent
Confided about the night I was taken without permission
You promised
To never hurt me
Like he did
But disappointment is a certain kind of ache
It does not go away overnight like you did
You should have told me to begin with that we,
Were just a game you were playing
While your real life recharged
I am sorry
That I ever held my tongue for you
There will be no remorse
I can not grieve over something that never was
Our existence
Ceased before it began
So I,
Am back to placing caution tape around my body
Back to glueing my lips quiet
I wonder
If you sleep easy at night knowing how you left me
Knowing that I am still questioning
I know
She didn't ask about me
She didn't have to.
Honna Root Sep 2015
why did i do this?
all the progress now dismissed,
i miss you, i love you, i can’t live without you.
i knew this was too true.
the wanting the yearning the ever blurring,
lines between us, perhaps even the falling is blessed.
I was your sweet succulent honey that you can’t get enough of. Good for you, good for your soul, the taste capitulates the lips around, glueing them shut so you can’t make a sound.
It’s all you needed, that little sweetness,
but honey is oh so bad for the bittersweetness.
for I am your queen, you’re life revolves around me to get one last taste of that golden empress.
You’ll do anything for that dopamine.
When you’re on that high, nothing seems to matter,
but why?
Can’t you see that intensity made you something, you’re not meant to be.
you’ve pushed your luck.
That honey bee just isn’t coming back. She’s stung you. Bled you, and now deserted you.
Wounded your soul, but little did you know, she’ll die too.
Her stinger forever in you, while you can go on,
a part of her will slowly die
in your bloodflow.
nani Aug 2014
It doesn't make sense,
your name hums in my brain.
My heart is in despair.
My eyes burn from the pain.

Dear God,
I'm sure the stars aligned whilst you were created.
Every freckle on your skin
has a secret beneath it.
Just like the way your arms are carved,
by angels, I fully believe.

You're in my veins,
and I swear, I wish to rip you off.
You're injected in my bloodstream.
But my eyes have no more tears,
to long for you,
and your big bright eyes.

Intuition failed me.
I believed every word your mouth gently spoke,
shy and hidden,
with your cheeks blushed,
and your eyes closed.
God, I thought you were perfect.

And we could speak in a way,
we only understood.
I remember your eyes got watery,
in place of the 'I love you'
you tried to voice,
but it just wasn't true.

And when I talk about you,
I'm verbose.
From every feeling I've bottled up.
From your toxic love.
And God, I wish to hate you.
But I don't.

Then there was lust,
and alcohol,
and a beach full of sand.

And every grain of sand remembers,
how you grabbed my hand.
How you didn't even grasp for air,
when you kissed my mouth.
In complete madness,
hopelessly,
such as if tomorrow
simply wouldn't make the scene.

You knew you'd lost me,
it was our last goodbye.
I hope she was worth the while.

I wish you fall in love,
and get your heart broken,
shattered to pieces.
And that there's no one there,
to help you fix it.

I hope you find yourself,
alone,
glueing the pieces,
cut with every one of them
that once read my name.
And that you feel small,
maybe you'll forget about yourself,
for once,
and feel sorry,
for every single one of your games.

And you destroyed me,
to bits,
and pieces.
But I've picked myself up,
slowly and without help,
erasing your name from my heart.

And now that I'm aware,
and not dozed off,
from your green gleaming eyes,
and the love you promised,
that didn't come by.

How I wish,
oh I wish,
when you offered me the world,
I would've said I had my own.
na

For Emi.
The last verse: 'How I wish,
oh I wish,
when you offered me the world,
I would've said I had my own.'
is inspired by the quote "He offered her the world. She said she had her own." by Monique Duval.
andTilly Oct 2020
curved, curvy in the pose
foot risen
bent in them bones
wet in layers
wet in sweat
drizzled
making the small world
bigger than bed

sitting, sleeping in the chair
a sleepy day
closing like eyelids
creating ripples
making waves
a fiddle
making the small world
little less brittle

close, closer than breath
nothing to see
breathing in dreams
heavy-handed
heavy as the planet
excited
to see the small world
getting tired

silent, silence pouring over
glueing ears shut
swimming in sea
of four-leafed clovers
four lean mes
vanishing
to see the small world
from inside out
©2020 andtilly.com
Nicholas Rew Aug 2012
I grew from the belly
Of a secluded corridor
Surrounded by alone

Crying energy branching outward
Desperate for mothers touch
Hungry for purpose

Soot and saw dust hands
Incepting a concepts conception
To be given yourself

Glueing answers from questions
A palace of paradigms
Parts truer than whole

Looking for loopholes
Searching for stories
Digging for death
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
There are things stuck on my mind.
Incomprehensible glueing, which
befog beleaguered fitting-in.
Becoming a mishmash, realization
bugs me. What to do with the cutouts?

Pictures of life instances that can't
be reconciled, just carried on and on,
blister and bubble within. No smooth
surfaces that cleanly represent
anything wholly identifiable are
depicted on bruised brain cells. Pity
it is. Pity I have become. Pity the
nitty gritty magazine photos slapped
together,  an ugly collage called,
"Mercy Never Saw Fit."
It is an ugly art form, cutting up memories.

****, ******, survival, these themes
are hardly ever pretty. Art therapy
*****. I'd rather paint a canvas black.
Victoria G Nov 2013
you shoved me into the deepest depths of the shark infested ocean
but I took your hand as you pulled me into your boat
and thanked you as you cleaned the bites
you are a sweet poison that you convinced me I should try
and it's killing me but I can't live without it
I feel like you stabbed me in the heart
just to see what it would feel like
and I thanked you for it.

I am shattering
and you are glueing back together the pieces
and telling me
that I’m beautiful
like that’s not supposed to make me feel anything
"Get out of toxic relationships,"
they say
I can’t
because
I will die either way
and I’d rather die with you pulling the trigger
Jolie Savitsky May 2011
she's seeing it perfectly
she's being neglected
watch her walk away
your problems being reflected
here it goes again
why cant you see?
Its not about you, and its not about me

once again
she's picking up the pieces
glueing one to another
hate and love
replenish each other
broken and scattered
she pieces the puzzle again
broken hearts and torn up souls
once again
she's picking up the pieces

here it goes again
what can we do to stop it?
It comes like a wave
getting bigger, getting stronger
words that hurt, and words that destroy
your feelings spin around like a meaningless toy
how much farther can this possibly go?

she's picking up the pieces again.
Megha Balooni Feb 2015
Tell me a tale
Those that you bear from distances
Those that you covered with your feet
Those that you ran with against the wind
Those that you swam with ripples in oceans and seas
Those that you got out from that nomadic women's eyes, deep
Those you wept with in your dark nights
Those that stitched your heart back, glueing it back to its place
Those that take you back to the greener pastures and yellow meadows
Those which are rusty, covered in the dirt of that high trek you took
Those that I might have heard, recite them to me again
Tell me a tale
Help me put together my pieces, pull me out of my salvage.
Flaws Nov 2015
Lying on the grass in the comfort of nights cool starlight sheet pulled over me
I can't feel a live soul for miles

I am electric
Thoughts lost in the static of leaves swaying above me
Gusts of wind offering a crisp shock to my skin
And sounds surrounding the atmosphere just for me
For me!

A moment like this was presented
A terrible joy found in sadness
Like biting the cuts on the inside of your mouth
Or squeezing a bruise to know where it hurts

Where does it hurt?
What physical force will cure this?

This
Which I cannot see
This
Which I cannot control
This
Which I am

How do you fix something
That was never truly complete?
Glueing together fragments of something that never existed
I've got so much more to add to this but writers block ***** and strikes at the oddest times
Emily Jones Feb 2015
I want reach out but words stick
Glueing to the throat so thick i choke
Cough and fail again
What do I say
What do I do
I've tried so hard to forget
But my eyes are not so blinded by love
Not so clouded with desperation
Fighting to hold on
Failing to show you what could be
If you had but let go
Stopped kicking and screaming dragging your nails across the walls
Of sanity
Def to the what I felt
What actions caused

But the truth
I'm not sure you want
To feel as I have felt
The zenith of my accumulation what I learned from the outside in
Would most likely do you no good
Would hurt you and hurt s me to feel again
For I am removed from it but lost to it

I let you into where others do not go
Not my mother
No not even the other
You know as suridly as I know you will read this
Know this
And burn as I have burned at the realization
You were there in the places that none could see
Saw the raw integrity of all that I am
And you ripped them
Tore it from the socket those fragile things of beauty
Sullied them like they were not worth the delicate wonder they had been
Shining a rainbow gossimer of good humanity the raw feirce nature of what love should be
Nieave as they were meant
Forgiving and piercing they had lament



They but flutter a sad representation
A jaded remorse they have become wishing to be the butterfly that it once was.
TigerEyes Dec 2014
I dropped my daughters favorite cup...
James Dean was laying at my door
his face was shattered on the floor
I was trying to glue the handle back on the cup
before it slipped from my hands
I didn't seem to understand
I've been pushed aside, and over a fence

a light bulb moment happened next
and some things began to make some sense

I have been sentenced
for my so called sins
In "once upon" I had a shot
like the legend in Camelot
not perfect - no, not at all you see
but it was when I felt they may have loved me.
When I used to matter
before they dropped me
and, I shattered
I have fallen into a wall of silence
The cup is just a symbol
a sign, or - symptom
of all the blaming, and shaming
that can happen
in a twisted triangulation
a kind of strangulation --
there's always one broken cup in a family
they're the chosen one
to choke out all the darkness that's taken place
a sacrifice for all the wrongs that your ancestors have done.

it's all been passed down from face to face
generation after generation
my soul finding its way to this great nation
I was chosen long ago
by someone I do not know

I am a broken cup
I am glueing myself together...
it doesn't matter what they say
even though I've been castaway
I've decided that I'm okay
I know inside
that I am good
and, what matters most--
is that I know I'm kind.
© Krisselle S. Cosgrove

#Cast away #lonely #sad #betrayal #courage
Nuna Apr 2018
the first time I told you I liked you
was the first time I ever lied to you
I always knew I loved you

liking seemed less dramatic
less problematic
you might have liked me too
at one point

but I loved with all my heart and soul and everything I had
I never wanted to stop
I never knew I could
I used to always be the one
to set myself on fire
for you
to light the way
while I was the one stumbling in the dark

it's safe to say that you were the one
the love that teaches you what love does to you
to your heart and soul
I haven't been the same ever since
I am a completely new person
thank you
for whatever it was between us
you shattered my heart in pieces
but I picked them up, saved them in a jar
now I'm glueing it back together
with someone else
I know you never meant to hurt me
Molly Mar 2015
She's crying to me down the phone
and all I can think is
how ****** it all is. How sick,
twisted and manipulated it all is.
Love is a ******* gift,
but it's a trick.
A menacing, broken, soft-spoken,
seductive *****,
that strikes up against your ribs,
just a match that caught flame.

How dare you ask to see me again
when you knew how much I loved you.

How dare you try and spin me into your web again.
Don't you know that I've become
so much better than you?

Then why does it feel like I'm
glueing together
old bits of rope and string,
tying together bits of old things
that everyone else has left for dead?

Isn't it worth fighting for?
Isn't love worth fighting for?
Why do I have to explain this to everyone I meet?

Every half-finished painting, song or poem—
they don't make masterpieces
if you take them all home, stitch them together and leave them to grow.
Just leave them alone.

I'm cold to the bone. In the twilight
I'm empty,
my heart turns to stone.

I watch all these sunsets turn red to navy
and I numb it with ***** because I can't handle the happiness.
You were my baby but baby you left me.

You were my baby but baby you left me.
Jill Oct 24
Eventide had blushed listless. Its once slick pink lips chapped filmy white until faded darkness claimed the screen. Crouching shelf clouds growl. The distinction between cloud and breath is long lost.

Bedroom-jailed for pre-teen misdeeds, I break out to watch the sky. My slack-jawed shutter yawns wide enough for a grateful, lithe-graceful, exit. I land dully on dust-crusted, dinner roll earth, too dry to crunch. Each damp footfall collects another coating of soft, fine flour, congealing into ghostly pedicure foam. Outside is airless, closer than my detention. There is no freshing comfort here.

As the prescient cumulus towers, the earth and I expect. We are storm-primed, desperate for the great release. We sit torrent-wired, tongues out to taste the fat rain drops. Our tardy Robin Hood will come to steal the pressing moisture from the air and send it groundward. We are alert for his redistribution. His deeds will turn flour puffs to glueing paste, and free wheezing chests in sweet, wet, relief. Low thunder is our drumroll with intermittent cymbal crashes. We wait for the splashes in slick, fuggy, discomfort.

The earth is waiting to breathe, and so am I.
©2024
ATILA Jan 2020
I hope when I walked into that place and bumped into you, my whole body did not react like it had many times before. I’d wait for my ultimate existence to completely abandon me, for my lips to shut down from glueing any smile, and for my legs to freeze up to fall to the ground weeping at your sight. But nothing happened. Nothing. Happened. There was no chemistry bonded inside me when we locked eyes. I couldn’t sense any wavelength between us anymore. I couldn’t feel any spark of electricity in my universe that I dreamed to live with you. You just looked like a regular guy with your regular hairstyle, nothing profound about you. My heart must have cleansed itself of you due to many late-night cry, must have gotten tired of me blaming myself for what had happened, and squeezed the feeling out of me while I was busy engulfing in tears.

Though we were both in the same ship, we were actually stayed in different cabins. Though we dreamed to revolve entirely around us, I was still galaxies away from you.
[Tilla, 29/01/2020, 11:00 p.m.]. Inspired from Rupi Kaur.
Pallavi Sep 2019
It's 2' o'clock, and I am having sleepless night.
Thundering in the sky,and the Moon is sinking in my tears.
Seems my heart is breaking, thrashed into pieces and crushed into powder.
Women in love are more vulnerable than men.They are crazy when in love.
They love like a universe full of stars & galaxies.
Their attachments are like my Amma's old remedy of glueing paper with rice.
Being in love crazily for a decade & suddenly
walking alone in a terrible path is like walking on cold graveyards.
My heart thaw and I couldn't put my foot forward, I freeze there.
I freeze in love, for love , to be in love forever
Andieeson Nov 2017
From the day we met i never knew why it strucked me more as if I've been hit by a bus or stunk by a bee.
I kept sticking on you like a mighty bond glueing a broken sole of a shoe.
I want people to realise how amazing you were but you never had any effort to do so.
You say you're not attractive nor would you think you are even for the slightest bit.
You hide problems more that you could speak words thats far from it
You tend to shut your mouth only because it was better that way.
You fear the presence of people and cry in front of class.
You ask people to buy you things from stores to the point that its all going to sink into your heart that you are useless towards others. You're just a victim waiting to happened but what about us?
I want to be there. I want to listen to you i want people to realise how amazing you are. That you are enough to make them all smile. They did nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong.
I want you to realised that your flaws pushes you back
Your doubts and fears are just nothing because you wouldn't have to face it alone because I'm here. Your friends are just an arm length away
Stop minding what other people say  
Realise that you are capable to find more friends and to love not just at appearances but for who they are as a person. Everyone clearly loves you and i love you, too.
Realise that i love you more.
Ishita Jul 2020
For the world of mine,
That is already torn apart,
That I've been trying to fix
piece by piece, like a broken mirror
Glueing up the pieces together
And just when I place them right,
Out of nowhere do these pieces fall apart
and onto the ground,
Tearing apart my world even more.
max Mar 2022
A lump in my throat
Glueing closed my tear ducts
Don't cry don't cry
You have no valid reason
Oh you're stressed?
**** it up life is stressful
april
Safana Sep 2020
The growth of the
tree, stems and
leaves grew up
together, they
breath and dwell
together, between
space and earth
they sing and danced
together, in the night
they fall asleep
together, in the
morning they awake
together, taking
lunch and dinner
together, they
glueing always
together, the
onset, is an old
ages, forces of
cohesion weakened
and the leaves
jaundiced, the stems
just dried up
Selena WH Mar 2018
I still remember
The first time we met;
Your eyes locking with mine
In a crowded room and
It felt like waves
Crashing against a rock.

At that moment
I knew I was falling for you;
Falling and drowning
In those
Dark, caramel colored eyes.

The first time
Your fingertips grazed my skin;
I still remember that.
It felt like a thousand butterflies
Unfolding their graceful wings
Against my skin.

When you painted my lips
With the truth in yours, I felt
The broken pieces of my heart
Glueing itself;
And my world felt whole again.

The words you whispered
Into my ears;
I hadn't anticipated them. Your
Words mixed with my silences, those
Gentle words were mine
And mine alone.

We are meant to be;
An unwritten and unspoken destiny,
We live in silence. The words
Uttered are for us to hear.
I am yours and you are mine, with
Heads bowed, I submit myself
To your love.

You; to me, there is only you.
My words, my silences,
My deepest desires, my happiness
And my anguish, my flesh
And my passions; they all begin
And end with you.

Our flesh may wither away, and
We may become dust,
But our souls will remain together.
This love of ours is immortal,
And we will drown in one another
For an eternity.
Selena WH Mar 2018
I devoted my time
Trying to fix you but what
I failed to realize is that you were
Actually breaking my heart and
Tearing my soul apart.

While I was glueing your
Broken pieces together, you were
Ripping apart mine.

But by the time I realized it,
It was too late.

— The End —