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 Apr 2018 Eleanora
Jasleen kalra
And if you are to love,
Love as the moon loves.
It doesn't steal the night,
It only unveils the beauty of the dark.

And if you are to love,
Love as the rain loves.
It doesn't wet the bodies,
It only washes the sad dirt of the souls.

And if you are to love,
Love as the wind loves.
It doesn't drift away,
It only cleanse you to the core by invading through each pore.

And if you are to love,
Love as the sun loves.
It doesn't radiates heat,
It only pours its warmth on you to enlighten your way.

And if you are to love,
Love as the star loves.
It doesn't delightfully twinkles,
It only reminds you that not even death can separate two hearts.

And so forth,
if you are to love
Love as the whole universe
& not just a part of it.
 Apr 2017 Eleanora
pia
I drowned
 Apr 2017 Eleanora
pia
I look at you
I see the sea
calm waves of you
gently caressing me

I see the ocean
in your eyes
I'm drowning
they're pulling me in

deeper

and deeper

I don't look away
that was my mistake

the ocean was beautiful
it was a magical sight
but I couldn't breathe
and I couldn't swim
but you seemed nice
it looked right

you looked right

and suddenly
there was no more air
I was sinking
my lungs ablaze
every drop of you consuming me
hurting me
I closed my eyes
I couldn't see how nice it was
you felt wrong

the ocean killed me that night
but if I would've knew
I might
have never looked into those eyes

so beautiful

but wrong
I loved the ocean but it didn't seem to learn to love me back
 Apr 2017 Eleanora
guy scutellaro
"I don't write poetry any more,"
she said
and threw down the shot of wild turkey.

she was beautiful once.
now, her eyes trapped  
and frightened.

her lips moved
but it was the rain that spoke to me.

she glorified in self destruction
like an actress in a greek tragedy  
or a boxer past his prime

dark violets, gardenas, and red roses
she sits behind a tombstone
picking flowers
waiting.
I'll wake up earlier than usual and for a split second, I forget what happened 24 hours ago. It seems like a blur, like it didn't happen.

But I know it did.

And I can't change that.

So I'll throw on a checkered shirt and look at myself in the mirror as I put on my key necklace and rings, looking dangerous and ready to ****.

I wonder whether or not it's worth it to button up my shirt, but I seem to like the aesthetic of looking like I'm helpless. So I leave the shirt open to seem lazy too.

But I will roll up the sleeves. I'll always roll up the sleeves. Can't risk snagging the cuffs of a good, bad, decently fashionable looking shirt.

Pick out a complimentary hat and go.

Face the day why don't you?

Because I know I'll still end up crying eventually.

And I'd rather have those shirt cuffs in tact to wipe away the pain when I do.
I've never even had a drink. So let's get drunk on poetry...

This round's on me!
You saw my message
But didn't reply
you ignored me,
please tell me why.

I approached you as a stranger,
Wanna be your friend
But your ignorance
Brought all that to an end

I wrote a poem for you
Just to make you smile
But you didn't even notice
Even once for a while

Is that your ego
Who's not letting you to be open
Or its your attitude
To make me feel broken

So answer me now
Why was i ignored
Do you think its your friendship
which i cannot afford?
 Apr 2017 Eleanora
Susie Marie
I guess I have accepted it
The way he is going to be
It must bring him happiness
That I can't see
The time he spends with them
Is a fantasy that he needs
To bring some sense of all of this
Is a feeling I need
 Apr 2017 Eleanora
Ghazal
Stigmas
 Apr 2017 Eleanora
Ghazal
It would start like a bubble
in my seven-year old chest,
An ever-expanding ball of
doom, substituting my breath

I was a child, yet I knew death,
I would try inhale- silence
I would hope it would fix itself
but, when I'd try exhale- silence

There was ugly music though,
It rose as I forced my ribs to expand,
Jarring, polyphonic, cacophony,
Of airways brutally locked and jammed.

When a child learns to measure April
nights, with the hours spent in the pain
Of coughing through close-to-nil breaths,
And breathing through coughing again,

One wonders at the extent of the inhumanity
Of those, who are quick to discreetly say,
"Hush, do not speak of this illness to anyone,
It's no illness at all, in the first place!"

"And, here, take these magic pills and potions,
They're slow but will take away all her agony,
No no, don't listen to those white-coated liars,
You don't need puffs of drugs into her body!"

So I ate all those pills and
Drank all those potions,
And I stayed up those nights,
Waiting for their promised actions,

And I went to school the next day,
Groggy, breathless and sleepy-eyed,
Because not-being-seen with an inhaler was
More vital than the breaths of a seven-year old child.
 Jul 2014 Eleanora
earnoux
My heart has never been one piece;

I’ve left bits in places and people

for safekeeping or declaration.

So you didn’t break it.

You never even had the chance. 

But don’t think for once second —

it didn’t hurt when you tore 
a piece too big for yourself 
and left my ****** heart half out my chest
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