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Radhika Lusted Sep 2020
I chase my mind
where the sun won’t shine  
And i hear you in places
I cannot find

My soul it rings
For your touch it sings  
And i hear it  
In all the silent things   

That empty rush
that passes through
For it always leads me  
Back to you
Àŧùl Sep 2020
The storm I hold back
In my heart,
And my mind,
If I release it all at once,
Then everything will end.

At least for me...
My HP Poem #1881
©Atul Kaushal
Poetic T Aug 2020
If i was one,
          I'd tie a knot
in myself...

To remind me,
  where the front
starts and the back ends...

I  just need fingers to
                tie myself up..

Now that's a whole other
             idea for another time...
Cole Aug 2020
I lie to myself sometimes.
Tell myself I'm fine,
That I can live without it.

I miss seeing my breathe
pour out in front of me,
so I can see my inside.

fog up the glass
that is telling me lies
It is not the true mirror.

I never thought
I'd miss it
as much as I truly do now.

The truth is I felt
That it didn't matter
what I wrote.

Now I know,
poems, don't just help
you cope.

Poems have the key.
Show the mirror
of what we could achieve.

They do not just
tell the past,
the pain, and woe.

They will help us fly.

-3nwlry
I never realized how much I would miss this.
Poems are the mirror of who we want to be.
no truth login Jul 2020
to the edge and back (inverted diversion)
——————————————————-

your life may throw you curves,
mine, straight edge blades,
lines galore, like sidewalk cracks,
jumping from safe to safe place

but always teetering tottering on
edges, like verses in the next poem,
trying to make it just to the next line
without falling in cracks, China bound

you can follow my lead, don’t though,
if I could, would willingly plunge, deeply,
for there is no safety in safe spaces, only
in the holy dark, cracks is the true safety

you seek, where poems roll on a highway
like Reno tumbleweed, humble before snow
capped mountains, these are the contrasts
where you birth procreations, poems yours

and mine die in childbirth,
returned to sender,
returned for retuning,
despair not, they’re coming
back to this world

guises in a different colored skin,
a different alphabet, script,
the meaning yet unchained and
unchanged, despite the


inverted
diversion
GreenWitch Jul 2020
I keep looking outside wondering when you will pull up,
Sitting in your car pondering your demons alone,
You don't want to share the load...
I understand more thank you know...
And I wish more than anything you would have leaned on someone to give you strength,
Breathe life back into your deadened soul...
...
...
...
...
..
..
..
..
.
.
.
Accept the love that was shown...
.
.
.
..
..
..
...
...
...
And now it's too late...
...
...
...
..
..
..
.
.
.
To say goodbye...
I'm sorry.... I wish you would have come back home...
Knut Kalmund Jul 2020
instead they send me a glow of esperance
and expounding answers through the back of fireflies
which I now must entrap for further examination
like a sterile entomologist milling around
in the someday

blazing with unbridled wrath
the reason barred by all gods
only at nightfall disclosed
within my grasp but in the somewhere

preferably after the daytime shadows
have fueled my will in the antrum
a modest perishing cold revives splendidly
and I awake by the sound of my rumbles
from what seems to be one oblivious moment of eternity now

so I swing an idly leg of my dented bed
pull the other inanimate carrier behind
she's here, whenever the eyes open
this time far back in the mirror right across
that stares back at me with those wizend and dilated eyes
underneath two unilluminated crescents
uncertain, if she sobs or smiles
the night is nigh, better hurry
Aroody Jul 2020
In silence I read what poets wrote,
of love they spoke of hearts they broke,

I stood and saw the lovers go,
how bitter how sad you wonder!

I could not write running out of words,
You can't make a point without your swords,

calm I sat and they asked me why ?
I fear, my darling, of what the future holds,

where life and death make a difference not,
it doesn't matter how much you try,

I'm back at least that's how I feel,
life's gone what's left is what I write,

AROODY 2020
Back after silence
Ashlyn Yoshida Jul 2020
I want to go back
And then I don't
Reminded of back then when it was all a lie

Each reminder
that flower
that song
I loved you all so dearly
How could you have seen
nothing but a rag doll
Someone annoying and unpredictable
Having nothing of any good inside
you turned your heads
and left me to leave
without a single goodbye
I have a lot of poems to write when it comes to this...I'm going to try something happier later
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