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jaden Aug 2017
when you leave home, home leaves you

little did i know that meant
                      
                                                         forgetting what his room smelled like
j.c.
Lev Rosario Nov 2020
The garden of Love
Is in a cemetery
Mourners come visit
With black clothes and Bibles
To sit and be still
To speak of sweet memories
There's no gardener
The flowers have become wild
Reaching the mouths of angels
Lev Rosario Nov 2020
The hour of mourning
Comes frozen in cool amber
Your love is nowhere
But left a solemn letter
You gaze to the sky
With the eye of a leopard
Try and try you might
But you sink down the water
Of regret and repentance
Heidi Johanna Nov 2020
Death is coming out of me
Every memory of pain and mourning

I’m bursting with light

Despite the dark I’ll come forth with
Roaring hope and fulfilled longing
if i make it through this winter
then i can learn to live alone
my tea grows cold while i hold it
talking to your ghost
hurt past the point of healing
comfortably numb, but always bleeding
i’d swallow my tongue to keep from speaking
living with your ghost
Mose Oct 2020
An unsolicited cry for help
The bodies of brothers stacked as fences.
To separate I from you.
In attempt to erase black from the color spectrum.
There are no grey colors here.
Grief painted in rainbows.
Our *** of gold is the silencing of church bells ringing.
A solicited cry for help.
Elena Mustafa Oct 2020
When I cry my self
To sleep because of grief
Over Faisal
My beloved
I hear it raining
Hard
Allah is crying along with me
Over a life cute short
Elena Mustafa Oct 2020
Ma salaam a habibi
As I hope that
Allah can believe you
More then mortal me
Or my mortal
Ma salaama habibi
I wished
That our love became
A reality

Good by my love
Fate is cruel
mark soltero Sep 2020
MN
is grieving for a stranger unfair?
it feels wrong to follow suit to causal continuation  
the moon awaits
the stars await
god awaits
the reaper sows
no glory will be to those who live without fear
blessed be to the exalted
dawning to the new age
I wrote this when the protests began here. It’s never seen the light of day because it just felt too early.
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