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Harsh Nov 2014
Within my body is a bird's perch
and you've gone and fluttered your way into my heart,
making your nest of love and memories.
Your song's sweet notes float their way into my soul
and make me hum a song of longing.
You've made a home in my heart, dear,
and I've grown so accustomed to you
that you've become a part of me now.
My ribs exist to protect you, not my fragile heart.
My veins carry your melody like oxygen,
my lungs and heart have moved
to integrate you into the synergy of my chest.
The effects of your presence are permanent,
there is no undoing your being.

There is no going back.
My love has gone out to you,
irretrievably, irreplaceably, unconditionally.
And even now, my body is already sore,
anticipating and dreading the day you fly away.
It aches in fear of you wrenching your home from my ribs,
shattering the protection I've maintained for you.
The shards of my bones and the splinters of your nest
will forever remain embedded within
my flesh and my mind for all of eternity.
You may decide one day that you want to return home,
and I will split open these bones of mine once again,
just to welcome you back.

But you might not want to come back, however.
And in that case just know that you live on;
in my mind forever loved and remembered.
This pierced heart will always beat to your rhythm,
your song will always flow through my veins.
My flesh will always remember the touch of yours.
Know that within your own ability to fly, you gave me wings.
As you've grown over time, I've grown as well.
Just know that I will always hum your song
to comfort and heal myself, even as you flutter away
and I clutch at my chest and my sheets
while a note of hope rises in my throat.

"I have this breath and I hold it tight,

to keep it in my chest with all my might,

I pray to god

this breath will last,

even as it pushes

past my lips

as I...

gasp."
This poem was influenced by the songs Birdsong and Between Two Lungs  by Florence + The Machine. Great songs, if you haven't heard them before.
emmaline Feb 2017
Death has a name and He plays a game with me every day
Tick tock the time on the clock is just a minute closer for the clock to stop ticking
Death, my old friend you're just mocking me
Running His finger around the clock and He
Just
Keeps
Ticking
Spilling precious seconds of bliss instantaneously like they weren't irreplaceably valuable
Dragging out months of misery full of tragedies that aren't in any way malleable
Death my old friend why don't you just give me a hand
So your time-keeping can end and I can just be as I am
Kite Oct 2014
Dear friend
As tacked on plastic stars lazily glow on my ceiling
and I listen to your mixtape
I'm reminded once again of how irreplaceably broken I am,
but his time, I am truly alone
and no amount of fermented fruit or ***** fumes is going to let me forget.

Dear friend
Out of everyone on this corrupt earth
I never thought it'd be you
We held our tongues in the back of class
Now I hold my tongue when I see your face
They've done this to me before, so that does not surprise me
But this time it's so much worse, because I've clearly lost you

Dear friend
I don't know why you changed, or what I did wrong
and when I asked you didn't seem to know either
But I've heard that you don't really care any more
but your drawing smiles at me from my witnessing walls
I don't know whether I should take it away or leave it.

Dear friend
My eyes ran until it hurt to shed more tears
and my cheeks became salty streams
drops, like splatters of blood, littered my dark dress
It seemed that I cried
Until the whole of me was drenched
The sorrow soaking through my soul
Absorbed by my skin
Dripping from every single hair.

Dear friend
The fact that you have left me hurts more than any of my wounds
Even when the boys put me back on the shelf, broken, I'd half expected it
But you? Never. I'm glad I didn't see this coming though, because then I probably would've given in a long time ago.

Dear friend
Each time I see your photos, my skin forms new bruises, purple and swirled like your painting of the galaxy.
And when you avert your gaze, I feel pinches in my skin
The idea of no longer holding your respect physically pains me, sickens me.
I didn't get out of bed. I was going to end it all, but I promised myself that whatever was happening wasn't
But it is

Dear friend
I sound like I've come out of a bad break up- a ****** ex or clingy soul
But the truth is, I valued your friendship more than anything, and it is the loss of it that continues to be the broken glass beneath my bare, swollen feet.
If you read this and laugh, or show it to the others
If you say I'm overreacting, or attention seeking
If you don't believe a word I've written
Then let me give up on this friendship without further torment.
Rajib Ahmed Mar 2019
Heads, Heads,
I want Heads,
Smiling Heads, handshaking Heads,
Heads full of dung,
Heads hiding tons
Heads that are scheming
Always overseeing
Heads that love licking
Otherwise it's aching
Heads making deals
After the kills
Heads who think sharp
Their sycophants clap
Heads making tails
Heads growing nails
Heads, Heads,
I want...

often you see them
Making headlines
'working' for people
and killing at night
they are all smiling
but covertly thriving
apt in hard-quashing
any dissenting voices!

they speak of rights,
they talk of justice
they air confidence
they paint rosy future
you think 'His excellence,
is irreplaceably nice.'
that's exactly the thing
they'd like to spread
while they conspire and devise

Heads, Heads...
Smiling Heads,
Heads with headgears
Heads with less hair
Heads with a cap
Heads full of crap
they come in varieties
in suits or saris
all of them are honey-tongued
with daggers under their arms
they are the looters
they fear no other
except the roars
of united men.

when the men assemble
their thorns tremble
and finally they pay
with heads that were gay
I want those Heads
it's time for Heads
enough of waiting
it's so frustrating
it's time for Heads

We need to chop
        those
                heads
                         off

chopped Heads
Head chops
chopped heads
Head chops

I want heads
warring Heads
plotting Heads
lying Heads
looting Heads
corrupting Heads

Heads, Heads,
those rotten Heads
I want them chopped
I want them Heads.
Hira malik Mar 2018
Its too late to comprehend the state of feelings
That were once part of the Art
Those led my pen scribble something great
Gave my heart strength of steel
Made me one of a kind!!
Its too late now my love
To write about that well defined love
Exists in histories
Where once i belonged to,
Being a great devotee
Making my soul encircling the whole aroma
As a sole new born breather!!!
Its too late even to say i am finding ways,
Or my heart trembling to feel the touch of time,
Its too silent now
Like a dead land,
Where if a dark lead fall, it starves to death!!
My whole idelogy being broken
And scrumbled to one lifeless feel,
Lif changes you, but this much transition!!; u see such in dead, when a body is irreplaceably decayed,
U seee such not in ordinary,
For those paths were never meant for me!!!

A place to soar!
(Friendly
Regal
Adventurous
Natured
Klepto
Irreplaceably,
Eternal­.)

In my hands,
From the beginning,
To the end,
Through the thick,
And thin,
You will always be my best friend,
Till we meet again,
My little man,
My little guy.

Nonpareil
Strut
Tank
Excitable
Inquisitive
Noodle-****
Frankie (Frankenstein) Passed away June 13h, 2024.
I will miss you,
Always.

— The End —