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There’s I place I go to
When you cross my mind
It’s almost as if your still there
By my side
Whispering in my ear
Caressing my palm

We called it the bridge to nowhere

I remember meeting you there
Sitting near the end
Staring out towards the water
You approaching me

I remember looking up
At your perfect tanned face
Your messy dark hair
Your mesmerizing gold eyes
Casually wearing your football jersey.

I remember your simple hello
Your nervous chuckle
Your silly smile.

I remember smiling back
And inviting you to sit.

Our first meeting on the bridge to nowhere

I remember sneaking out after dark
To meet you there
Just to lay on the bare wooden boards
Staring at the moon

I remember the smell of flowers that spring
branches blooming nearby
The smell of smoke and spices
Forever embedded in your clothes.

I remember your singing
Sweet nothings
in Spanish
Softly in my ear

Entwined together on the bridge to nowhere

I remember your high school graduation
Your mother so proud
Your sister excited
Your father crying

I remember your first game in college
Your running onto the field
Pride and joy in your eyes
Though you didn’t play
Because of that sprained wrist

I remember your sweaty embrace
And your ramblings
of the game
Reviewing every play
Your eyes shimmering with excitement

Racing to the bridge to nowhere

I remember that call
Which changed my life
My heart stopped
I couldn’t think

I remember rushing
to the hospital
Crying with your little sister
Collapsed on the floor

I remember your bloodied face
Wrapped in linen
Tubes bursting from your chest

I wanted to race to the bridge to nowhere

I remember spending my nights
Curled by your side
Willing you to stay
Strong

I remember that endless tone
That said you were gone

I cried at the bridge to nowhere

I remember curling up in your hoodie
Smelling you
Pretending it was you
Your arms surrounding me

I remember lying by the stone
That recalled your name
Talking to you
Burning letters by the small candle

I remember cleaning out your room
With your mother and sister
Finding that little box by your bed
Your final gift to me

I opened it at the bridge to nowhere

I still go there sometimes
With a letter filled
With promises to you
And a flame by which to send it.
Nico Julleza Oct 2017
It seems simple, like all used to be
It might be normal, like everyone's daydream
We would run in endless circles—
In fields of autumn cling, wading ogles—
When this used to about you and me

The sky was glowing like your cotton cheeks
Marks passionately from kisses of your lips
We would scratch out scars Avast
From every unpainted fence that pass
In moments it was me hoping— will it ever last

As we drift up to that very hill— I envisioned
The grass was as different— different,
Different and effervescent than I ever known
And we'd lay blind feelings, forever in making
But it was you who decided to let it go

We only saw one tree, maybe one dotted line
Not knowing all is going to be— a doleful red
One horizon, everything used to be fine
When time stops you to be—
And someone took you from this arm of mine

Never it was the same or even has it been?
It would even stench fake perfumes
I was pushing to believe on what to be unseen
And where I stood, Died— of barren thirst
My sense, which was all left but never heard

And as I broke from your crimson goodbyes
I thought of every promise— A perfection,
And every commitment— An exaltation
But a solitary torment, only to know I'm trap
Oblivion, still my feeling keeps pulling you back
#Crimson #Goodbyes #Broken #Love #Nature #Tragedy

How Love can Hurt in a Million Stab's and how you tend to visualize the Good memories before the Goodbyes

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
Paras Bajaj Dec 2018
In January,
I had fun.

In February,
I ****** up.

In March,
I was in a dream.

In April,
I woke up.

In May,
I wanted to die.

In June,
I even tried.

In July,
I also scored.

In August,
again got bored.

In September,
I missed her.

In October,
I wished her.

In November,
I felt alone.

In December,
I moved on.

-Paras Bajaj #PoetrybyParas
Instagram : @mr.parasbajaj
Juhlhaus Aug 9
Some impossible goodbyes,
Like a farewell embrace
For a wisp of tobacco smoke
Or a parting kiss
From the vapors dancing at the rim
Of that favorite chipped teacup,
You carry with you wherever you go.
Lou Dec 2017
If there were better words
I would sing 'em.

For now,
Silence is a crowd
And I'm making it as their leader.

Or only true believer,
In words.
Or lack of them,
regardless,

It's a mute commute to what you want.

Was it my bad, behavior?
that was feeling you-
before you were feeling me
around my neck

I get it.
Out of respect
and for heart murmurs

Its true,
I can feel it;
Me, mute is a commute that you want

This train had to keep moving.
The conductors wife is at bay.
Many people are apologetic.
But many more have destinations to make.

Like crying baby.
And a grin,
from a lonely man in his gazing,
fading lying chair.

For you
And me-
In this booth.

Mute is our commute to what we want.
Mute is our commute to what we want.
Wrote this when someone was slowly fading out of my life
JillsPoetry Sep 2018
In the silence do I hear better,
All your sweet little lies,
In the distance do I hold,
All the difficult goodbyes,

I'm a young girl who's trying,
To find her place in this world,
I'm so Lost on my way,
I hope it all will be okay,

I find dreams close next Reality,
All I ever can see,
Is the distance that's killing me,
But my dreams can set me free.
A poem about how hard goodbyes can be...
Joanna Charis Oct 2018
I may be in the other side of the world,
Under the same sky as you are;
But know that I thought of you,
Despite being so **** far.

It has been 7 long years,
Will time allow for us to meet again?
It feels like we’re strangers now,
not close to call it even “just friends”.

How long shall I wait?
Time is ticking all the time;
Hope you are feeling the same——
Wanting to have you or be called, “mine”.

What would have happened
If you have just stayed?
Would our relationship grow more?
Would you still look in my way?

I’m sorry for back then,
when I tried to ignore you;
I was in a state of denial,
because I have grown fond of you.

I love you.
There’s this boy I used to like back then in the 6th grade. We were more of enemies but later have grown to be friends. He left the country when I was in the 8th grade and at that time, I already had feelings for him. I thought it was just a one-sided crush but a few years later, I heard from a friend that he also liked me back then; our feelings were mutual. And somehow hearing that got me thinking like, “what if he just stayed here? what would have happened between us?”. So I was inspired to write this poem. Hopefully someday our paths will cross in the future.
Astra Jul 2018
I wish I believe it when people say they'll never leave,
But I still taste the salty tears of the goodbye note you wrote,
The lullabies of heartfelt cries,
An those times I was to good at say goodbye,

Behind my pain-filled eyes,
I see a girl I use to recognize,
A healing heart,
On a open battlefield,

A little girl trying to believe the bedtime story she told,
But being told by her soul the real world,

One where princess have to wait for there Prince Charming,
One where the frog kisses the wrong princess,
One where the fairy godmother is to late,
And one where she broke her shoe,
her carriage has become a cage,
When her hair as faded from every page turn,

The war that has been raged inside her,
Because she afraid to believe in one day,
She afraid to believe the nevers and the forevers,
Because she seen everyday turn to parades of the same fake forces daze,

To never forget that life to short to trust salt,
That was confused for sugar,
That being nice with only take you so far,
And that one day,
You wake up feeling the same,

You'll flap our wings one more time,
And sing your fairytale song,
And your true love will sing along,
You’ll remember what it like to dream,
And believe it could be a happily ever after,

And wake up in a world,
Of your own,
And those goodbyes,
Will turn to mournful cries from forgotten peoples eyes,
Because just than they will realize,
There boring lives,

As she thrives,
She survives,
And now truly now,
She good at goodbyes,
And hardly recognized,
For the rest of her life
March, 20th, 2018, All rights reserved
Amela Kovacevic Jun 2018
We played musical chairs in forests,
learned of limbo and of wine,
discovered the appeal of cigarette upon cigarette,
sang songs of melancholic rhyme,
crept through night’s entirety
simply to linger through sun’s rise,
and realizing that our lives
purportedly go on,

 

parted.
maria Aug 26
Salty eyes when I look in the sky for your absence

The clouds are not in the mood to reply

I'm not in the mood to keep trying

It's raining outside

I take my clouds and leave the town

Goodbye
To the sad days that I'm getting used to
Written on August 27, 2019
Ezzah Saleem Jul 2018
Some are too good at goodbyes,
A couple of letters,
A couple of confessions,
Some words like " I'll miss you"
Some like "we'll meet soon"
Some photos with moments stuck in them,
Some times that have gone so far
You don't hope you'll be able to see a thing like that,
But you still hold your head up,
You pretend you are brave,
Brave enough to say a seven letter word 'goodbye'.

It doesn't seem so big,
Yet means something you know you won't be able to bear,
But you keep a heavy stone on your heart and you say it,
You feel it but don't exactly realize,
That your paths have been separated
And the time is gone,
Even though you'll see sun everyday
You will still feel cold
Like that cool wind and blues that winter bring and blows,
Or those cold winds that follows rain,
Or that touch that autumn brings,
With that de trop sadness,
After all, all we need is something to hope for,
To put our hearts into,
Our blood to run though them,
But dont forget the most deserving gets the most undeserved,
They will have to live with or without hopes,
In this hollow, cold, dark world.
CK Baker Jan 2017
Thank you ~
for a life not to trade
blessings, in spades
tight spaces
behind laundry doors
packed closets
and open drawers
gator tails, tarnished brass
cracks in kitchen sliding glass
wet towels, withering plants
foundation filled
with carpenter ants
buckets piled with
shoes and tags
village clothes
and saddlebags
peeling paint
and broken walls
****** seats
in bathroom stalls
clogged pantry
frigid rooms
table scribe
and carbon fumes
comfort capsules
empty tanks
broken limbs
from children’s pranks
**** finger
double tongue
long goodbyes
and sidewalk dung
cluster flies
chavie’ clique
accompanying
the hypocrite
cracked back
and hidden smiles
chalk on board
with mr miles
atomic wedgies
closing doors
wrotten eggs
and open sores
jaw jack
nasty folk
dinner calls
for pig in poke
penny pinchers
double dip
yellow mouth
and silver tip
brown nosers
thick red tape
paper cuts
and pimple nape
gallivants
so out of norm
the joy of life
in basic form
Jo Barber Jan 10
Write of lost people,
Of times gone by,
So that you might know,
So that you may remember
The hellos in my goodbyes.
And the goodbyes
In every hello.
Fleetingly and forever,
We stand apart together.
Paras Bajaj Jun 6
now that we are not friends anymore,
I hope you would keep my secrets secure.
now that we won't ever meet again,
I hope it would only keep us sane.

all the new places we won't ever explore,
I wish to walk away wasn't my only cure.
all the best food we won't ever eat together,
but I am sure you would find someone better.

I am sorry for all the times
I've asked you to love me back
and I don't blame you at all
because compassion is all we lack.

and if you are worried about
me going behind your back.
rest assured my friend
I won't ever dare to do that.

-P.B.
@mr.parasbajaj
elle Sep 2018
Turn your need up!

plastic bags slide cross the floor of this ***** bus
pavement swimming down below
as we ride through new snow
(churning now to gray)

“Turn the heat up!
my feet are frozen"

and my dreams too.
into pictures that frame the world outside this bus
hypnotizing,
colored-dread.

A fevered sleep
so far away and weeping-

cold woke us today and from now on

(but for now I’m on this bus)
starved for more,
more waiting in your hot car

icicle clinging to your siding, wood in your fire burning,
a fixture of the season

since the innocent incentive to stick around has died
I’m sorry,
I keep waking you up all night.

..start a journey in my head
to find myself plastered to your skin in bed
and these ******* squeaky floors..

I can’t let go of you
How do you say goodbye so softly?
How do you say goodbye with half-closed eyes?

Turn your need up!
Cling to me!
James May 2018
I remember being in love with you
I remember the fluttering in my chest
The turning of my stomach when you'd flirt
How excitement pounded in my chest when you would say my name
The way I craved your touch and worked to make the time just to see how you were
Gentle smiles and peaceful silence
The addiction that came with your attention
You were beautiful and our love was so sweet it hurt

I remember falling out of love with you
I remember how your first offence cracked my hopeful heart
The turning of my stomach when I learned that you were not who I had built you up to be
How hurt coursed through my veins, leaving me dizzy with pain and anger
The way I thirsted for you attention and became desperate to throw my agony in your face
Tense shoulders and crushing silence
The withdrawal that came with your rejection
You were appalling and we destroyed each others lives

I remember trying to love you again
I remember working to allow you back into my life
The turning in my stomach when I realised you were no different from three years ago
How pity ebbed at my conscious when you'd call me in varying degrees of never sober
The way I stopped answering your texts and I realised that I had moved on in ways you hadn't
Concerned eyes and grievous silence
The recovery that came with rehabilitation
You are still falling apart and I can't risk relapse for the sake of sympathy
this is kinda whiny and woe is me, i also wrote one about a boy who held a similar role in my life, you'll probably be subjected to that too. sorry! these will probably both just be a single name as the title so its easy to distinguish it from other things i write
Marisol Quiroz Nov 2018
i thought it would be easier this time
but it wasn’t,
it never is.
those last goodbyes,
that last kiss,
it never is,
it never is.

— saying goodbye never gets easier
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