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Hakiim Feb 2019
touch me as brick turns into paper
a familiarity i once knew
a past life in present form

i sit in full awareness of your bare flesh
you reside transparent in most forms
my hand extended in subtle care
your heart belongs to memories

my memories resurface as fear takes a hold
of being used and alone
of you not seeing me
of me dying alone

in fear that my last love is my last love
so as you fill my brain and it forms a puzzle
speak to me before insanity fills my neck with thorns
before paper becomes brick
I recently went o date with someone and they felt for some reason familiar to me. They reminded me of my first/last love who passed away. Yet, now at this point I’m not sure how this person feels. I know they have a struggle with their past love, but i’m so confused and lost. I’m not sure if they are even slightly interested in me. I just want clarification if I should just close myself back off from potential love or what. My mind is in shambles.
faeri Feb 2019
I'd like to say
Our love is like
Puzzle pieces.
Even if our pieces
Are worn
And hands don't
Fit anymore,
The picture we
Made together will always
Be beautiful
In our memories.
first official poem of 2019
Amanda Francis Feb 2019
Loving you is making me crazy.
Some days all I have is a head full of maybe.
Unconditional fits in my mouth like your hand does in mine.
Alone, my hands search through your puzzles trying to find peace of mind.
Untitledheart Feb 2019
I always have felt like a puzzle piece
I have always felt like everyone was a puzzle piece
But everyone fit together nicely and worked together
But I was another piece from a different puzzle that somehow ended up in the same box
Until you came around
My grooves fit into yours so perfectly
We are so different but we fit so wonderfully
You connected to me and showed me what it was like to feel like a part of something bigger
This is old-ish and kinda lame but cute so it's okay
Özcan Sh Feb 2019
Solve the hard puzzle in your mind
With the parts from my heart.
Badshah Khan Feb 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 34

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

My Divine birth and moral death, in-between this two puzzle,
My dear soul, is dangling, my dear soul is sovereign’
I naturally born, before my noble birth.,
And died instantly before my noble death.
My Birth naturally obtains divine mercy of my Creator!
And peaceful death is inevitable.
In between my noble Divine birth and moral death,
My dear soul, is dangling precariously.

My dear soul, heartily enjoy a unique way of dear life.
and to voluntarily undergo the confirmed death.
My divine birth and death cant be compared equally,
In between my gentle birth and moral death,
My dear soul, is dangling precariously.

In my divine birth my active life
Dearly want to perform optimally a several journey.
And it will merely rest with my moral death.
In my moral death, my dear soul
Willingly experience the solitary journey to hereafter,
And it will merely start on the rare day of moral judgement!
In between my divine birth and moral death
My dear soul, is dangling precariously.

Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
Astral Mar 2019
My muse taunts me,
One second they'll be there,
Guiding me, I swear.
But then without even uttering farewell,
They leave me there alone in my uninspiring cell.

Sometimes they leave me for so long
I begin to forget they're there,
So I try it all out on my own.
It works I guess,
The puzzle fits,
But its just there's something wrong.

I know now that they're there,
I felt it, I felt it I swear.
But I don't know who they are,
And I don't know where they are.
But I know,
I know they're there.

I just have to wait for them to open the cell door.
Feb 7
POSSIBLE Feb 2019
T̩ͅo̥̫ ̦̯͍̱͡i҉͓̜̩͇̗̰̮n̹̹v͍͍̺͖̪̮ơ̤̙͓͕̗̥̯ḳe͓̼͈̺͓ ̴̬͎̻̤͖o̦̫̟r̹̗͈̜͔̙ḍ͇̘̣̯̹̫͟ȩ̼r̹
̭̙̤̫͕͕̙f҉r͇̻̫o̼͙̖͈͟m̖̯ ̨t͙͚͙͙͉h̠̙͉̹̤͞e̹͚ͅͅ ̗̦͖̩͈̰͚͜f͏̱̥͈͙̰͓͙e̸͍͚͍͇ẹ͖̖ͅl̖i̼͕͖̞͎̱̮͜ṋ̨͖̪̙g̢͉ ̼̭o͚f҉̹̳̯͚ ̞̠̥͚͟c̼͍̞͘h̝̬̻̮̙̖͔a͖͝o̲s̡̪̲͖͖.͙̭̹̞͚̮̟
̩̲̝̗͡
̬̠̕W͏͉̥it̻͙͟h̞̝͇͉̭̤̥ ̡̹̪̮̰o̸͉̱͇̰̝̣u̙͍̜͈͜t͏̖͍͉ͅ ͔̜̺͕̜͢o̱̰̣͈̯r̛̹̮̺͕d̝̺͎̘̩͔̱e̲͇̲͚̩̝̥r͇͖̯͉͞.̫́
̟̮͙̞͍̗̳I̠͓̪͈̹̦͍͜ ̗̯͖̬ạ̥͍̦̫̙m̱͎ ̡̥nǫt̩͟h̦̹͕̹i͏̲͙̻͚̰͍̠n̴̩̥̤̦͕̳g̗͙̮.͖ ̙̖
̜͍͎̦͈I͓̱͕͠ ͙͕̰̩a̻̫̩̮̭̩͖̕m̴̰̘̫̯̯̗͇ ̣͚͝e̯̭v̶̮̘̖̙̺̩̻e̘̠̫͚̙̖̯r̴̩̥̯y̡̥̳͓t҉̺̙̺h̪̗̬͍̩̀i̺̹͠n̞̮̣̠g̹̞͍̝̻̳͙.̙͠­̘̮͇̙̦̺,͔.̨̦
̺̣͕͇̱̠
͍͕̩̰̳͚I̪̺̻̙̲ ͉͖̘̯c̴o̧̖̳̭ͅu̼̺l̟ḓ͖͉̯̺̤ ̲͖͔͉̪n̝͖͕e̸̬̦̭̣v̮͕e͚̗͓̖̤r̡͍̤̲̗̘͖͈ ͜l̼̜͙̲̙͓e̶t̠̤̘͕̰̺̥ ̺̭͚̕y̟̖̫ou̖͇̝͇̼̞̬ ̘
̰͞D̝̝͇o͈ ͙̭͉̪̝̹͔͠t҉̥̥͓̗̼̩h̭̼͉̭̪̩̲į̗̘̮̠̬̰s͓̤͉̀ ̧̙a͏̗̹͎̗̗̦̮l͖̟̤͚̜̹o̶̪̹̖̪̠͍n̞͈̰̼̦͞e͘.͔̰͈̱͓̯
the cake is a lie but i am n0t101011110101
his heart is a puzzle
too complex to solve
but all she has ever wanted was to own his heart

so she gathered the pieces
accounted for them one by one
and began to assemble the puzzle
although in her own heart, she knew it would never be completed
you are so complicated
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