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Z Sep 22
40
i pull away
i don't know what to say,
it's too familiar
my apprehension
at simple questions,
at gentle whispers

we'd spend our evenings
chasing feelings
we'd try to capture
hypnotized
by those lattice lies
we manufactured

but i can't talk
i missed so many calls
and i can't think
i just can't get involved

i'm on a break, i just can't take this,
i'm suspending consciousness
my reality
has lost all consonance

but, oh,
there's nothing much i miss
and, oh,
i just wanna stay like this
Z Jul 9
39
a deterministic acidity
encircling, dizzily,
with futile steps and fruitless glances
I took my chances
and still I managed to glue on a smile,
at least, until the train
Z Jun 13
38
Vermouth turns to vinegar
Her sweet youth imprisons her,
A reverie soured with age
Z Sep 2019
37
Her gaze got the best of me
Burning bright and mahogany
Conversation-soliloquy
I framed my fervor in filigree

hollow gestures, a pantomime
She just wanted to pass the time
Nearly twenty, too juvenile
To be anything more than tactile

A crowded room, a compact tableau
I still look for her where I go
A stubborn habit, it’s hard to quell
Maybe too callous, but I meant well

A little less than fortuitous
Resolution eluded us
Two strings, discordant synchronies
My pride, my wounded dignity
I've been listening to Hippo Campus a lot and I love the way they write so this is a *very* basic attempt at the style! Thanks for stoppin by
Z Aug 2019
36
Her breath was halcyon
We were my axiom;
I was her peace

Piecing pictures out of nothing
Pretty words, I caught her bluffing
Then the release
Z Jul 2019
35
Peel me mangos
And the pain goes and mixes with the fruit’s sweet flesh,
Dripping fresh and bitter-sweet

You still come to me when I’m asleep
to whisper pretty nothings in my ear
until my brow sears each passing thought with your image
I imagine you as timid as at our first meeting, as bold as at our last, your laughter repeating on and on and on

on our last day you kissed me sweetly, the taste of mango on your lips
Z Jul 2019
34
Come under the mango tree
In its shade she is waiting
Singing songs of the past

Bitter, bitter poetry
As the sun goes on blazing
As her eyes turn to glass
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