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 Jun 8 rishita
CantSeeMe
I bite
not only with words

when I mean bite
I mean that teeth fill the night
with tears in my eyes
and the pain fills the head


cause I said:

if you want to dream this high
then there needs to be perfection
without any exception

I feel with pain

but the truth is that
I don't know how to stop
cause I do it at all cost
and it all started when I was lost

sitting on my bed
fighting in my head
my hands in my hair
and breathing all the air
my eyes from left to right
never thought that I'd be right

I do bite

and fingers once unharmed
have now scars so deep
Hi there, I'm new and this is my first poem I publish. It's not perfect but it's all I have.
 Jun 8 rishita
Erenn
You bloom in places pain once lived—
soft, stubborn, beautifully brave

You laugh like nothing ever hurt,
then cry like everything did

You trip, you rise,
you call it clumsy—
'I call it love at first sight'

You're not just strong
You're a tulip in a thunderstorm,
Still choosing to bloom
Still choosing to love.



Erennwrites
Leak into another night
     I am dead mechanical
Cut black lines into my skin
     Tattoo me with asphalt
Touch my face one time--kiss me goodbye with an insult
          I'm just fading tail lights
          It isn't my fault.

               Your fingertips are tracing something...
         And my reddened eyes are craving something...
     Some might hope for for the weather's improvement,
                        but, me?, I'm hard in love
                        with the cold front that's
                                     moving in.

Let me crawl across the sky--
     a skull coated in red wine.
The Titan's getting tipsy.
     I'm at home in the sweating night.
Cracked my ribs one time, kissing asphalt on Orange Street
          Then I had to stand up
                    screaming
      after sweating through sheets!

                My memory surrendered something...
            Your frozen face was mending something...
        Might have hoped for condition's improvement,
                        but, me?, I'm hard in love
                           with my aching--that's
                                     all I am.

Dead Mechanical
     Romanticize it.
Dead Mechanical
     I can't eclipse it!
Make me fiction, or ***** my fingertips.
     Let me lie. I am Dead Mechanical.
Fell in love with having nothing better to do than hate ourselves. Is it any wonder we hate each other, too?
 Jun 8 rishita
Aimée
I don't know if soulmates are real

But even if I wasn't born to be your match

I'd like to spend forever molding my soul to fit yours
I'd feel like a stranger at my own funeral-
who's that in the box, dressed better in death
than I ever managed in life?
Better than my quiet attempts-those empty rehearsals
at suicide.

Was this the last chance I had left?
Even in death, my voice isn't heard-
nor the screaming ones trapped inside my skull.
Even my ghost wouldn't believe it's dead,
still hoping the lives I tried to save
might pay my way past the gates,
buy out my debts.

But what if there's no heaven waiting?
What if another kind of hell greets me instead?
What if I never see my old friends again-
never laugh without fear,
never smile without pretending?
What if I never stop
being so ******* afraid
so strangely ashamed
to feel nothing,
to be numb to even shame itself?

All I wanted
was to be born again-
not into some perfect life,
but one that wouldn't lead me
back to searching for another end.
And isn't it strange-
how only in death do we see our regrets
with such clarity?
Because there's nowhere left to run from them
once we get
to the end.
You can’t defeat me, I stand so tall,
For my motherland, I give it all.
If I must die, don’t shed a tear,
The tricolor wrap will bring me near.
No greater honor, no deeper pride,
Than my flag around me when I’ve died.
I walk through fire, I stand through storm,
For love of land, my heart is warm.
If I’m no more, don’t say goodbye,
The flag will speak — I didn’t die.
Mysterious are the ways
how the universe works.
People we see everyday
remains strangers all through our lives.
And yet someone living in a distant land
touches our heart in such a way,
It turns our whole life upside down.
They don't belong to us
still becomes a part of us.
A symbol of love,
my nation's pride,
a gift to the world,
built by Shah Jahan
for his beloved Mumtaz.
Fulfilled the promise
he made to her,
built a unique monument of love
to stand the test of time
where they now rest side by side,
together forever.
A reminder -
love exists in the real world.
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