Feathers Scott May 2016
sometimes when i'm asleep i hear whispers.

ghosts of all the men i let decimate my sanctuary

thinking they came to worship.

the men who came with flowers,

fragrances and exquisite offerings

who left with my sobriety.

many pieces of me are

somewhere in the world

being given as bounty to other women

expecting to be loved as i did.
K Balachandran Jan 2016
From the green hill, blows downwards
a wind, gently titillating the languid trees
of this dense forest,the rustling of the leaves create,
an impromptu tune, proving they are taut strings,
yielding willingly to the sensual fingers of the wind.

Super moon,while raising, listens keenly awhile
as if she had never heard one like this before.
The wise silver owl, sitting on the high branch
keeping account  of every stroke of night,with an imaginary wand,
as the conductor, catches the emerging mood that seethes
within the million pieces of orchestra that gently merge,
get exhilarated, finds a pause to punctuate it with a timely hoot,
the moment freezes, falls in to the repository of time for keeps.
Bijan Nowain Feb 2015
Longing to abscond with time
Run away to breathe and live
Looking for truth beyond the horizon
Restless soul breaking free

This heart wants to settle
For it’s run an emotional gamut
Tattered, worn out like old shoes
Quietly ticking, limping along

Then, like electrical therapy
You ignited a spark deep inside
Blood flows with purpose
Deliberate beating with resilience

It keeps on running
For you
1748

The reticent volcano keeps
His never slumbering plan—
Confided are his projects pink
To no precarious man.

If nature will not tell the tale
Jehovah told to her
Can human nature not survive
Without a listener?

Admonished by her buckled lips
Let every babbler be
The only secret people keep
Is Immortality.
Bridget Allyson May 2015
Pain keeps me
From losing myself.
It reminds my heart,
that it likes to beat.
It reminds my lungs,
To never stop breathing.
Pain keeps me here.
Grounded.
Sane.
Happy.
Sydney Ranson Jul 2013
We can close the three-hundred and some odd mile gap
and stand silent for a second with our
                brainwashed gazes, glassy and glazed.
I’ll drive five hours to find the boy with the tired eyes—
the boy who made me promise.
                It’s for keeps.
We can spread a blanket and I’ll show you
the big and little dippers in the soil sky
                (they’re all I know how to find).
We can touch and whisper in a composition of exhales
and our two tongues that hide behind our four lips—
                yours that mask the gap I don’t mind,
                mine that I bite until purple and bleeding—
will drip with nectar, syrupy and saccharine,
which we will cup in half moon hands.
Ignatius Hosiana Jun 2015
I don't just want a taste of your lips
I don't only want a one time date
I don't just want a quickie
I don't just want a dance
A single evening stroll
One night stand
I want someone to always hold my hand
A beauty that makes me lose control
I want it for my lifetime, the dance
I know It's kinda hard and tricky
A promise of forever,a debt
I want someone for keeps
sinderella Oct 2013
heavy pressure on my chest
nothing makes me love you less

no amount of tears or blood
could make me stop
loving you as hard

my feelings for you
they continue to drip
like a waterfall
light but strong

baby, i see
all your flaws
but nothing
i repeat

nothing
could make
me love
you less.
© sinderella.
Danielle Rose Oct 2012
I look into your eyes
soulfully
my mind at times falters
to insecurity
I just knew that if someone
eles could see what I see
They'd try like hell
to steal heaven from me
Just Melz Jul 2015
Whether it be secrets or lies
She keeps them hidden inside
Miseries and agonies too
She's beside herself
Without the silence,
Too much noise breaks through
Not knowing what else to do
She runs to that place
Where she keeps her silence
Hidden away
It's dark there
And filled with so much pain
But she can never let the silence escape
Too many losses and nothing to gain
Let the tears rain, she can't explain
So, she hides herself in her dreams
With the silence she keeps
JWolfeB Aug 2014
It reminded me of the way you talk

Repetitive.

A perfection of revolutions.

Telling me of things already known.

I tasted the ignorance on your lips.

Fill me up with your everything.

Your breath. The wind.

Stale air.

I don’t feel cool.

You’re pushing air in circles.

Chopping up all the times I asked for forgiveness.

Forgive me.

Until this moment.

Please give me a breeze of all the moments you have watched me act ungodly.
Pax Aug 2014
Living in this world, often times I feel - claustrophobic.
Living inside their system, often times I feel - restrained.
Living inside a shell, often times I feel so - distant.

Watching my world slowly collapsing.
Watching my reality in slow motion, pretending.
Watching my fantasy more than what’s real, it keeps me sane.


*© Pax
Sometimes when I feel like my emotions is eating me up and my mind is at constant wonder, I can't write or even concentrate. Sometimes I just lose myself into games and videos - watching, never minding about anything else. Just think about that world I am in the moment – seeing, working my mind to ease some negative emotions. Even though some people may think, I'm just laying around, doing lazy things. Actually I don’t like doing nothing. I want my mind to always work and always think perhaps because I just don’t want to think of reality too much. To avoid the things I don’t want to face, or afraid to face. I always mention in my poems about this door that I fear. Someday I’ll be able to open that, someday… (written last: November 3, 2013)

I still feel this from time to time, but bearable, I can make it, still surviving life...
Isha Natsu Feb 2017
Someone once told me that I was "for keeps". I've never been a fan of any type of label, but I've wondered how he had shelved me in two words.

I've sought out its meaning. Maybe it was the same as how he was always proud of his vintage toy collection. I was there for his quartlery dose of nostalgia. The novelty of us was something that made him grin.

It could be how another liked to treasure letters from lovers past. Only to flood himself in regret. The names and faces garbled in the salt water.

I learned it was not the same as how my neighbour cut the thorns of the rosebushes, and left the buds for him to adore. He always kept the scissors by his bedside.

The only things I have managed to keep are my pinky promises, my drafts from two years ago, and my used bandaids. It's embarassing to recount how unmade, unfinished, and uncertain I've been.

But if I were to love you, I will not tell you you are worth keeping. Holding you would be selfish to the universe. I cannot possess your thoughts and your soul, your charm will pour itself from my grandmother's china. Pictures will not be taken. Maybe just one, to show my friends the uncanny resemblance you share with my favorite poet. I will unknowingly breathe you in, only to heave heavy sighs into your mouth.

We will thrive among white lies and speak about tomorrows with fistfuls of hourglass sand in our pockets. We will borrow light and pay in forms of miles we need to walk.

I have never wanted to be called a keeper, nor have I ever wanted to keep. The world can only afford to lend beautiful pieces of itself.
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