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#spilled poems
hesmellslikelove · 21 minutes ago
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a town in the south;
the entire place in brown and orange filters
that guy sitting in the corner of the street wearing a cowboy hat
singing those love songs of the 80s
and that woman in a red dress admiring his voice from afar
skeptical if she was in love with the guy she saw this morning
but it wasn't love
it was just his voice
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ohnonawal · 30 minutes ago
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the "good" part of "goodbye" is a myth: a conspiracy theory
goodbyes never came easily to me. or rather, i was never able to say a proper goodbye.
goodbye.
what does that even mean? when has a "bye" ever been good? do i just not know of these “goodbyes”? where are they hiding? under the sleeves of my jackets? under the rugs in my room? behind the photo frames on my bookshelf? i don't think these goodbyes exist for me.
when have i ever had a "goodbye"?
with lovers, it's always a sudden silence. with places, it's a lost memory. with old friends, it's awkward moments. with experiences, it's never visiting them again.
but today, when you said goodbye, i felt this trench open up within me, swallowing all my thoughts that ever meant something and continuing to do so, like a black hole. i don't know what it means because i'm new to this feeling. so i'll tell myself that that is goodbye.
there's nothing good about it. the "good" part of "goodbye" is a myth. because it fucking hurts. it hurts no matter how much i choose to ignore it and it weighs heavy on my chest. it chokes me when i try to eat and poisons me when i close my eyes. it leaves me red, purple and blue and none of those colors are any good because they all remind me of you.
i hope i can be at peace again. i hope that when i rest again, i can say my goodbye, to not just you, but to every place i never turned back to look at again, to every lover that broke my heart, to every friend that is now estranged and to every experience i choose not to think of.
one day, i will make my peace with everything that's ever said goodbye to me, whether with the look of their eyes or the silence in the night. one day, i will make my peace and say goodbye to them too, in my own way.
but just not today.
not today.
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jamesmcinerneyofficial · 40 minutes ago
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'You and me' - James McInerney. Poet & Author of ‘Bloom’, ‘In between the lines’, ‘Red’, ‘The Pieces that Collide’ & ‘Everything I Write is About You’ OUT NOW on Amazon/Kindle.
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versesforthedew · an hour ago
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MOTHER, LET ME
Mother, let me make you a crown
Of white tulips, white like snow
Captured by the spring.
Let me lead you in a dance
That makes you forget grief,
Forget lost childhood and lost homes,
Until all you know is this,
This dizzying turning, turning,
That makes the stars look like
A vortex of white light,
As bright as your laughter.
Let me lie with you
On the grass under the willow,
Let me comb your hair
With my loving fingers,
Let me hunt blackberries
Hidden in the night,
Let me feed you sweetness
Like you fed me milk.
Put your burdens down
Until rose dawn greets you,
And come with me
To lands of dreams
Hidden from the day.
Mother, let me love you
In the heart of spring,
Mother, let me show you
What my nights can bring:
Seafoam, mist and wilderness
Are my gifts to you,
And what if the tulips lose
Their petals while we run?
They dance to the ground and melt
Like snowflakes in the dark.
F. P.
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enaria-writes · 2 hours ago
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Nicotine
"He was a hazy grey of death,
tangled with charm of gunmetal blue
oh, why do my bones suddenly felt brittle??
did butterflies flew across the tombs??
perhaps not,
as the sun could have kissed our souls
but no,
this is the funeral of my serenity
where delusion now falls into abyss
//
He was a hazy grey of death,
tangled with charm of gunmetal blue
yet through the pages of mists
He was a rose-kissed boy with delicacy
who was also lost in his own cobwebs"
-E.N
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brooklynbubbles · 3 hours ago
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My back against a worn brick wall, book in hand.
A stampede of foot steps from the kids upstairs shakes dust onto the pages.
Sunlight peeks through, enough to cast some warmth onto the floor, quietly where the dog lays.
Honking, nonstop and a few strangers yelling across the sidewalks.
In one year from now, someone else’s chaos could be my home.
Enough noise to keep the voices out
And just enough room to stretch my legs.
Some people want to run from here
But this is where I want to stay.
Thanks @strikezilla01 for the prompt ✨
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with-love-anu · 4 hours ago
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to help the dally fly
But wasn't it a sight to see?
You and me on our hands and knees
Trying to assist the dally in pain?
Oh no we couldn't touch it's wings
They were as fragile as the moment had been
Whispering tales of caution we made up
We took a rotten leaf and slowly pushed the fly across
Looking over with bated breath
As it started to soar through the sky again
Happiness was all we gained
Now all I remember is how silly the whole thing had been
Even if it was the silliness
That had held all our innocence
It was the way we loved
And how we cared
And how we promised each other time and time again
That I was a queen and you my dear friend
We were meant meant to take the world's plane
And rule to end all pain
Free chocolates, cakes and candy
Oh what a world would it would have been
If only I could go back and help the dally fly again.
A/n: I,,, I wrote this based on a memory with my closest of friends. I hope you like it and please please tell me what you think?
Tagging; @anou-yes @secrets-ill-take-to-my-grave (tell me if you want to be added or removed!)
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persephone--bleeds · 5 hours ago
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You don't know, what someone's going through. You don't know how many masks they wear beside N95.
You don't know if creases on the side of their mouth is because of smiling or never smiling. You don't know if their posting everyday on social media is fun or coping mechanism.
You don't know if their home smell of tadka curry or sour screams. You don't know the meaning behind their dps or why they like songs that are boring for everyone else.
You don't know if they aren't studying or they can't. You don't know if what they tell you they like, do they really like?
You don't know why they eat less or why they're always sleepy.
You don't know if there's storm or peace inside their mind.
You know their names, faces, qualifications, hobbies but you don't know traumas, sadness, human brain or what they're at 3 a. m. ©
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richglinnen · 6 hours ago
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Piecemeal
Like solitary M&M’s We collide against the other And wonder why we can’t connect— Observe my brilliant color! But the shells we have erected, Although forgetfully fine, Are tough enough to deflect.
Humans divide so that we thrive, Hack through the bush on our own, Lest someone else slows us down, Pluck parts that fit in shopping carts, Cull winding herds into mouthfuls.
But oranges stick together, Torn apart—not by each other— But by our wormy hands. Seamless apples know no slices. We invent them with sharp devices.
We segment the world With senseless borders When there are coasts That can’t be defied, While a mango ends A mango’s length From where it begins.
We cup tides, Trim the sides Off landscapes So that they’re Bite size.
We split up a city Laid out in a grid Into serrated parts. We even cut farts.
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iespeciallyme · 7 hours ago
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Refuse.
I refuse to become a puppet. A little sport you like to play. I refuse, To say hushed, In this treasonable thing, We call "today."
I refuse to take the needle, Stitch you back, From the pieces of scraps That you split yourself Into. I refuse.
I refuse to be the cement, And pick up the pieces, Every last one of them. I stayed when no one did, Cut myself, On your broken pieces, But now, I simply, Refuse.
You've used me, For way too far long Until I've become, Way too far gone.
I'm done condemning my light like the Sun, To your shadowing, deadly, Dark.
Content and ready to burn on this pyre, I was ready to burn in your world of fire. But now I'm exhausted, My flame is lost. Well, I'll find it, of course, But at a spiking cost.
You used me, You broke me, You lied, I'm tired, The time has come, To end this meaningless fight. I refuse to stay silent.
I love you. Goodbye.
FINALLY. I’ve posted a poem after ages, and after May 15th, my birthday, my lockdown will be over and I’ll be a regular poster. YAY! Anyway, I hope you like this poem guys. I know its simple, but its tragic. So, yeah!
Taglist: @poeticattractions​ @princess-maram​ @cheeseburstthoughts​ @keya-123​ @the-writing-avocado​ @johermione​ @november-rage​ @wordsaremydiary​ @justyouraveragewriter​ @livvyheronstairs​ @its-always-ni​ @sizzlingdazebear​ @aakhyasharma​ @floralbeast​ @lovebird-in-the-dark​ @the-girl-who-cried-wolf @all​ my followers
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srishti12 · 8 hours ago
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"What is the use of hope then, if the bad could still happen?"
"Hope makes you believe in the magic of miracles. I know the bad could still happen, but so can the good. Besides, you would be a broken soul without hope to keep you intact."
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crudeverse · 8 hours ago
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I embraced solitude thinking it would set me free. But little did I know in solitude the voices in my head would be clearer and the faces more vivid.
Solitude
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