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M Vogel Jan 2021
PaulSN

I have been writing
   about you
almost since my
very first-ever   poem

It was your spirit  I
could feel--
   even  when I was  wholly
unable  to feel

You are  a b ra isi v e
in the most  t e n d e r e s t
  of ways
    my little scrapper

And I have  pulled you
  t o w a r d s   me
a  thousand  different  days

(yet, I have never touched you)

Little scrapper,  you are
  a d m i r e d
from afar
      by me--
the one who has been
    watching you--
all these years

Look up, beautiful-one
turn your face
      to  me
          and see that I am
                                     still here--
wanting just to  touch
the side of  yours
with *******

          just a touch

Yes,
silly spilly--
       yapper-lilly
I am right here..
   lookin   at you-  tenderly
                                              still--

              even after all this time

a story..
Skyler Oct 2020
Where might confusion lie
About oneself?

The deep recesses of the mind.
Beneath masks and scars,
Is where you'll find me.
Amidst books and ink.
Within, without, all around.
Through meadows and trees,
The grass whispers and sings.
Deep secrets of the Earth.
You need to be right.
You need to be wrong.
Not rushed, nor cheated.
A steady hand. Pen to paper.
Trembling, in waves. In. Out.
Stay the course Dear one.
Seek not the out edge,
Within is where it lies.
Not among the birds.
Neither your friends nor family.
But deep in you
Is where it lies.
The only person that can give you freedom is you. I looked in other places, to other people. But I'm the ONLY one that can ever give myself the freedom I long for.
Carlo C Gomez Sep 2020
I held the moon

And knew immortality

I traded all my unforsaken days

To move within the eternal orbit of her night

To eclipse death

Yet here then the gap narrowed
Orchid T Aspen Dec 2019
He ran from my demons
so I wouldn't have to.

                                      He yearned for more time
                                                     like I should have.
He lived as me.

He broke as me.
                                                          He spoke in me
                                     so I wouldn't have to.

           I didn't tell him he was human.
CIIR Dec 2019
A star flashes  - -  the void is unchanged
Poetic T Nov 2019
We live
              for a moment.


                    But
         die endlessly,
for an eternity.
longevity
F A Pacelli Jul 2019
as still water stagnates
blood stagnates
move your body
keep blood flowing
fuel your life force
F A Pacelli Jul 2019
our body is the hardware
our food is the software
how are you programming
your health?
annh Apr 2019
you are spring and fall
my summer and my winter
year in and year out
"Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all."
- Stanley Horowitz
5-7-5
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