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Carter Ginter Apr 2018
It's late April
The weather is more like fall though
Melting snow and dry foliage
Autumn reminds me of you

We celebrated Halloween together
Pumpkin farms and feeding goats
Themed parties that didn't go right
Streaming tears in your basement
And I knew exactly how to help you

Video games on cold nights in our onesies
You singing to me
Echoing across the practice room walls
Our song
It meant so much to you and I felt it too

Something changed when I fell in love
With someone else
I still loved you too though
You thought I had commitment issues
Maybe I do
Maybe I don't
I don't want to go there now

I still remember the good times we had
It hurts to think about them now
But whenever I'm in town
I hold my breathe because I'm scared to see you
I'm scared to look closer at our relationship
I panic when it smells like October
Because it reminds me of you
Of us
And I'm too scared to think about how that makes me feel
Dave Legalisa Jul 2018
your name
is an ice cream
that melts
every afternoon
of summer.
everytime i hear it
i jump in delight
imagining its letters
floating before my eyes.
your name seems sweet
and tender and cool
that my tongue
learned to love.
King Panda Apr 2016
I have this glass in my
I found it under
the park bench
where I lay
drooling on the
this glass reminds me
of you
this glass reminds me
of earth
the shade where
sand melted
I cut so
so correct
is this blood
I spill
Hg Jun 2018
she reminds me
of the pills i take

her tongue leaves my tongue
with an aftertaste

i might just overdose
on that pretty face

after all love’s a drug
even if it’s fake
YoursTruly Aug 2016
The wind blew harmfully, cutting my face like glass.
I hope this feeling doesn't last
Because my gut hurts, desperate for one last breath
Won't you please say hello to the pain that is filling your head right about now?
I think its safe to say that all my hopes and dreams have died away.
Her beauty was beyond the sky
But even beauty tends to die
And yes
I'm crying inside and out
So many words I want to sought
But you cant love like I do
My body quivers and shakes
I hope I'm truly awake
Because only the best dreams are fake
And yes it hurts
So that's the Kudu-Horn used on your Prize:
The Kind which no Mundial will ever blow
To pity their Ears; And Focus revise
But Senior Petrol in Love filled her Glow:
In turn flashed her Grin as a Cool Relief,
Humbled her Lady and recalled you Friend
Indeed, the Word so long etched in Belief
Was the Same Sharp Sound which caused Fans to spend
And did this Spike ever taught you to Boast
Though Genious the Temple Beggar reminds:
That Good Deeds Un-Posted are Noble Toast
But Kisses under the Fender are Fine.
I guess what's left to do this Summer's End
Is Toot that Horn; And Flames burn Flames again.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Mara Nov 2018
sky's so cold
reminds me of her
she always blew me a cold kiss

eating ice cream when it's zero degrees

ice queen
she covers the sky
with an independent gloom

I'm waiting on the snow
she gives the best shows
wearing glittery shoes

eerie feeling
you aren't here with me
I almost felt you beside me

I need to let her go
move on

let the sky fall
Cindra Carr Oct 2010
Blood in my mouth
I touch the wetness on my lips
The taste…
The taste reminds me
‘All is not lost!’ it screams to me.
‘Remember me!’ it sings out.
Blood in my mouth
A clash of metal pulls me
My arms raised above me
‘All is not lost!’ I scream this time.
Blood in my mouth
Lost days flash again.
Blood in my mouth
The world goes red.

Kateasz Apr 12
There was clearly tension between the two of them. It crackled in the air like static electricity and made their hair stand on end. Scarlett’s heart beat so loudly in her ears that she wondered if it had somehow found itself misplaced in her head. Coherent thoughts were but a faraway notion. All that is, was, or ever will be was standing right in front of her. This girl’s lips reminded her of flowers in the summertime breeze. Her eyes took Scarlett’s breath away, the way the skin around them creased and chunks of uneven hair hid them when she smiled. As if her body were acting on its own accord, she brushed those chunks of hair out of the other girl’s eyes. Her fingertips danced over Lia’s cheekbones and a shock jolted through her body. The electricity in the air had found its conductor in the moment when they touched. It coursed through Scarlett’s veins in a way she had never felt before. Her gaze ran up Lia’s face, examining every detail before she finally met her gaze. Then, she knew for sure. She knew that Lia felt the same way; she could see the lightning in her eyes. The moment lasted for an eternity, both of the girls afraid to breathe, afraid that they’d ruin this moment, until Lia finally closed the gap between their lips. If Scarlett hadn’t already been holding her breath, this would have stolen it from her lungs.
Is this a totally out of context paragraph from a story that I never ended up writing? You betcha.
Holly M Jul 2018
empty is not the right word.
what is the word for
not quite empty but not quite full?
there is a glass on the table-
it is not half-empty,
but it is not half-full.
it is just a glass of water.
i am just a glass of water:
not empty, not full;
not happy, not sad-
not anything.
not anything at all.

the clear blue nothingness
reminds me of the fact.
it’s dotted with cotton candy clouds.
i wonder if they are as sweet.
my tongue salivates at the thought.
it is like a land of dreams
without sorrow or pain
yet i am here,
floating lightly
though i feel like a paperweight,
weighed down by the lump in my throat.

it’s hard to remember
what home looks like.
i can’t see in terms of
“where i belong,”
i only see in terms of
“the trees are like broccoli sprouts-” and
“the cars look like hotwheels-” and
“every single one has a person in it, and
they all have their own journeys, and
i am here.”
i don’t think they know how beautiful it is.
i didn’t.

home to me now is a backpack
a couple books
and a trinket from an old friend.
they are the only ones like me:
strangers in a strange land.
i’d like to find my way back someday-
if only i knew the way.
Knit Personality Oct 2016
A gathering of omens ill
   Haunts me inside my head.
Sings eerily a whippoorwill.
A gathering of omens ill
Pollutes the autumn's crispy chill,
   Reminds me that I'm dead.
A gathering of omens ill
   Haunts me inside my head.

Spenser Bennett Apr 2016
Maybe life will be everything I thought it was.
Maybe this ain't the escape I dreamt of once.
I need to slow down, maybe say, "pause".
Take the reins, pull over these lost thoughts.

It gets better. It gets better.
I wear my mood like the weather.
It gets better.
Right now, Fall is my favorite sweater.
Bright orange reminds of the day I first met her.

True colors finally show just before the snow
Shoulders shrug before they get cold
I should've known.
I wore my coat to postpone fresh grown sorrow. I should've known.

And I'm thinking back to Summer's plenty
Forgetting the day she left me
And the way it blessed me
Now I'm drunk with my feet up, breathing in real serenity.
Seth Keplinger Jul 2018
I keep pretending I'm alone.
Even after losing my seat
to her new prince.

it's spellbinding,  
enough to make my dog wince.

I still love the sad songs her puppy dog eyes dispense.
it was never her truth, per usual;
per his glimpse,
into the future of my demise.
I pretend to appreciate the gent in the white coat.
A self diagnosis wouldn't compromise
my vulnerability.  
Don't, she won't, undermine my competency
it lends itself to my daily routine,
I self prescribe with perplexing potency
and abide
an unprecedented golden rule.
This wasn't preconditioned,
not an act of repetition.
Like Pavlov's shepherd
I implore and drool.  

I pretend its a new found happiness.
it's for the birds
and deveivers
I believe it's for the ignorant
the boring
the people with white picket fences
and golden retrievers.
Beware of the conformist
the ones who did well on geometry tests
their smile so luminous  
like diamonds between her *******.

I'm a lose leaf in autumns first frost
hanging on the edge of winters righteous freeze.
the shackled, the .22,
let it be me.  
I'm a warning sign, Cuba 1963;
Why's the gent in the white coat swinging that Triangle hammer at my knees?
I can barely sleep as it is
from this dusty room
I garner for clues inauspiciously
the obtuse path back to the life i once lived,
obstructed by the 4 seasons, the 4 reasons, the 4 walls,
the 4 grains in this whiskey.

Life outside of her box is a bargain.
Before the flies, where my heart lies;
her highfalutin jargon.
Coping with this void gives me nightmares.
joe and daydreams, I
anxiously begin to slur.
I wish he'd stop cutting his pen through the air,
reminds me of my geometry teacher,
lecturing vicariously through a sorcerer
maybe the boring one's preacher?
everyone in this coffee house likes to stare.
Anne Jul 2018
c l e a r
blue skies
the air warm
the familiar smell
of the s a l t y ocean water
the gentle crashing of the w a v e s
young children rushing down to collect shells.

happy faces
old memories
familiar feelings.

I smile at myself
at how  f- a- r
I’ve reached.
leila Jan 5
a dark chocolate ice-cream
and an exhausted mind
takes you to a dream of sadness
and me one look to my present
One look to my future
and the things happening soon
a dark chocolate ice-cream
and the noon
reminds you a bitter waiting
Of a dark corridor..
A series
of short puffs
from a rekindled
cigarette expertly put out
on the half
reminds you of your
fastidiousness now you
feel like **** as you look
at the wreckage site
of a desk that
is your own doing
       That is what you do.

While your ego
floats like the unmelted
coffee you put in cold water
Hardly dissolvable
to anything normal
missing anything temporal
You lash out once more
waging a war
with a nation
of thoughts
You kick the furniture
to send the dust flying
       That is what you do.

You attempt to sheathe
an intricate wound
patterned on your
knuckle, as detailed as the
dystopia of your
own human agenda that
can be trivialized by just
"I haven't been myself lately"
when somebody asks
because you're afraid
they might see
you find it hard to belong
to their society
Slowly, the dust resorts to settle
on the bedroom floor
       And so do you.
King Panda Oct 2016
I’m sorry you have to see me like this
all stinky and bruised
love, these thoughts torture me like this pie
it’s made with red corn syrup
it reminds me of your blood
I see underneath your skin
to your almond eyes shimmering
to your beating heart somewhere in Colorado
lord, how I love you
lord, how life is a road trip through hell sometimes
how we end up in rooms with pink noise
but how?
how does love end in places where no one wants to go?
where no one lives
where pie taste like blood
and you are pale, grief-stricken
almost crying
I see how things are
I see how I am a man destined to eat the air you left behind
you, perfumed with thoughts of me and I beat because of it
you, tortured by my spirit
you, half my soul. don’t run away just yet
wait until I finish my pie and fall over, flushed.
spacewalker Oct 2018
I see the sympathy pour from your lips,
A waterfall of meaningful words I'm sure

but I'm fixated on the twinkle in your eye,
it reminds me of the midnight sky
The midnight sky my lover was taken under
The stars stood witness yet they took no pause in their dance above the clouds
Now the stars are hidden well behind the sun
blue skies don't make you smile
at your lovers funeral

The stars in you eyes make me sad,
Obsession with revenge takes hold
so I mutilate them.
   a slurpy cosmic soup
sits behind your tired eyelids

A small victory in the war with the sky
Fighting an unwinnable fight can turn a man into a monster
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