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hayley robertson Mar 2018
Today is my birthday and I guess I got what I wanted, which was talking to you again.

The past two years I missed having someone to talk to who cared about me, and I’m not sure if you still care, but you seemed like it because you told me, “If [I] don’t have fun tonight [you’re] going to be mad at [me].”
That was just one of the things.

Well I guess I had fun because I listened to the playlist that you made me and I talked to you.
And that’s what I wanted right?
Right.

What I didn’t want was to lie on my floor crying off and on for an hour because that playlist, a simple thing, made me so happy and so scared. I am so scared because I do not know what is happening and I am afraid it is just going to vanish before my eyes like last time.

But I’m timid and I’m shy, too shy to tell you this, too worried about how it might affect the course of events playing out, so I will just write it down here in hopes that you’ll come across it one day. I hope you do see it and take note of just how much the little things you do matter to me.
SelinaSharday Mar 2018
Left with no suga for lemonade..
You didn't give me any.
Its the bed you made.

My suga hidden locked away I always keep plenty.
Yet you should've  given me some.
You didn't give me any.
Should things become unraveled undone.

Behaviors..
Like gentle flavors
Gifted courtesies.
Texting etiquettes.
Is like a lumpy  preserved sugar cube.
Know that rules in texting has its magnitude.      
Proper mannerisms set for the right attitude.
Like sensual videos from youtube.

Proper texting skills.
Sets the flow for good word adjectives.
If texting don't just walk away.. at least say bye  have a good day.
You were texting me and simply vanished away.
Didn't hear from you till some other day.

No good morning no how are you.
No Sorry I hadn't replied back to you.
The stems that builds proper relationships.
Simple actions that can untie good friendships.
Rude mannerisms, actions, bad timing..too many crazy smilies.
Too much giving, too much doing, way too many gifs cheezies.
Texting at wrongful innappropriate times.
Like at the movies or on a date no good signs.
Manners gone like public phone booths uneeded dimes.

Your rudeness Your going I can't miss.
You have no suga cubes.
Just sour lemons..
Easy to dismiss.

You gave me nothing to make lemonade.
Can't fix this mess you have made.
No suga for lemonade!
By selinasharday all rights reserved..3-2018
texting skills learn some.. like if you were on the phone you wouldn't just hang up,, be kind be considerate.
Vick Mandrake Feb 2018
Have you ever gotten lockjaw?
At least, that's what I think it is
when my mouth stretches
to let in a yawn, or out a sigh.
My tongue recedes
for the muscles underneath pull taut.
It hurts to keep open,
and it hurts to try and close.
I cannot speak
yet I cannot seem to keep silent.
But this is only for a moment,
one that I long for,
as silly as that sounds.

It reminds me of talking to you
Any thoughts on the final line? I'm worried it's a bit on the nose but without it I worry the meaning gets lost
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2018
And when ever I reach down everything is OK.
A jingle of my keys, pocket change.
And there you are.
I'd have a heart attack if I were to reach down and you weren't there.
I don't know what I'd do.
Back tracking every step. Doubling back every where I've been.
Pacing my breath in attempt not to panic
I know it's an unhealthy dependency but face it.
You are a part of my everyday walkabout.
Whether it's something that I need to know or randomly bored.
You always put a smile on my face.
Although some news I'd rather not know. You tell me in a way that I'll understand and I appreciate that.
Searching for a smile pure and humble.
A small print made large. Easier on the eyes.
You teach me things that I'd never think to look for.
Random searches that tie into the things I don't know that I need.
Me sitting in front of you face to face.
Our conversations spanning for hours at a time.
I know at times you need to recharge your batteries and I try to let you be.
But even when your sleep you don't mind waking up and keeping me company.
Even if it's just a second
jess Feb 2018
*******, and **** her too.
Cause when she came into your life.
I didn’t matter.
Maybe it was before that but I didn’t notice until then.
And then; once you left.
You taught me how to hate.
You taught me to be afraid to trust the ones you love.
I guess I should thank you.
Cause most of all.
You taught me how to deal with pain, without anyone noticing.
And how to not get hurt anymore.
So thanks….
Now I can’t let people in.
No one knows me.
And guess what.
6 ******* years of me trying to reach out to you.
And then coming back with nothing but silence.
My own blood is a complete ******* stranger to me.
So thanks…..
Now I know.
Don’t expect anything, that way you can’t get let down.
-j.p.
another one of my writings that i posted to tumblr that got a bunch of reblogs so here ya go.
Moon Wright Jan 2018
Your words don't matter
So why do you talk?
Why do allow words
To come out of your mouth?
No one is listening
To your words
Because they don't matter
They simply don't matter

Why put yourself through such torture?
You know they don't matter
You know no one is listening
You know no one is paying attention
And yet
You keep talking
Why must you be so difficult?
Why must you not understand?
Your words do not matter
They don't matter
They never will

Therefore, you must stop speaking
You are only hurting yourself
No one else is paying attention
To this one person
Having a conflict in their mind
To stop talking
Forevermore
Is this the end?
I ask 'Azrael'
Where shall I depart
Where shall I restart
Where to take my heart?

What if the answer is silence
And if
Angel of Death
Steals my breath
And Says:
We Love you more
Then you adore
Your Leila

What Shall I say
On that day
When I will be alone on my way
~
Mirza Sharafat
Talking to Angel of Death, when you ask him about your love, but what if he loves you more than you love your beloved.
Graff1980 Jan 2018
The streets are fresh
with the withering flesh
of sensuous conversation.
Tiny bits of floating fragments,
plump and succulent,
pass stranger’s ears,
plain to hear
even though I fear
few could ever take them in.
This is the reality in which
I drown just to swim,
a sea of unclear sounds
and half *** observations
made to clutter my notebook.
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