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 Oct 2014 wounded words
BZQ
i want to touch you in all the places no one has ever touched and hold your hands in all the ways you’ve never let them be held. i want to love you in all the ways you never knew you could be loved and show you how good two people can look between a set of sheets. i want to say to you all the things you should have been told that night and make you feel what you thought was only possible in a dream. i want to treat you the way you should have been treated before and let you know what a blessing you are to this world. i want to give you the whole world to you.

- bejal
 Oct 2014 wounded words
Aditi
You#4
 Oct 2014 wounded words
Aditi
You
Either leave
Or
Stay long enough
To
See "him" turn into
A stranger.

Oh,
boy,
I guess
I looked into your
Soul
For too long
To ever go
Back to being
"Just friends"


You
Either leave
Or
Stay long enough
To feel
Yourself fading
from "his"thoughts
Just like how
Dews evaporate
Once they see
The sun.

Oh,
Boy,
I was nothing
But a voice in your head.
And now that I've been replaced,
I wonder how long
Till i cease to be


You
either leave
Or
Stay too long
To witness
his eyes go blank
To watch him
See right through you.

Oh
Boy,
You were long gone
Even when you were
holding my hand
I knew you were
Wandering far away


You
Either leave
Or
stay long enough
To
Watch him leave.*

Oh,
Boy,
But I'm
Still holding on to you
Long after
You have let go.*

[Nothing good stays. I could never leave, so i guess that makes sense]
A random poem. Been so long since i posted. I hope you guys enjoy
 Oct 2014 wounded words
Venusoul7
A walk upon the waters; nigh
Shalt not split thy vein
Lest furtive glances; sigh
To bear upon His Name.

What twills apart my Being
Must extricate a feeling
Is truly trying triumph
For brew upon the brow.

If moorings mast is cracking
then ****** upon the wind
for deeper trust be lacking
my Bow I must rescind.

a Keeper of her stables
should roll up bales of hay
a Reader of her Fables
would wish to port her Bay

Make for meager living
In a time as starkly stout
To climb upon the mountain
Into the tempest, Shout!!
How I would imagine a centuries old poet's reflection upon the modern Self and greater society as a Whole. (This particular poet is a bit cynical:)
Morning is a cold metal gun placed to my temple
Time is a trickle of blood I won't remember
 Oct 2014 wounded words
Ekuu
Some stories are frozen in time,
           not even the strongest of flames can melt them*.
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