Sad poems need pretty titles.April was lungs weak of blue, andSad poems need pretty titles. by DearPoetry
scalpels held in heartless,
You told me you were no coward
that the seas and the oceans
whispered in your ears and told you
only the bravest of men
deserve to kiss their beds.
May passed too quickly.
No time for mourning
when I gained ten pounds
of pure muscle
holding up your stars.
People asked too many questions.
People told me I was strong.
One day in June
you woke up to a skeletal frame
that wasn’t yours and the biggest,
strongest ribcage I’d ever seen.
I had cornfields in my eyes;
You misplaced your anchor
and your mind.
day fouri. identityday four by Lissomer
locke cried tabula rasa
but he couldn't be right
father gave me compassion,
tolerance, and cynicism
mother gave me persistence,
ambition, and perception
i am a kaleidoscope copy
of all that came before me;
distorted into variations
upon the oldest theme of all
locke cried tabula rasa;
sometimes i wish he'd been right
four years old, right arm in a cast
and i'm going to be an orthopedic
pediatric surgeon when i grow up,
twelve years old, i played "csárdás"
in school assembly today and i'm
going to be a concert violinist
when i grow up
orifices, orchids, and oceanic mythosi.orifices, orchids, and oceanic mythos by gliitchlord
in coarse strip
pricked in all places
and phrases coursing
through hoarse-gripped air
i swear that
is scattered in breezes
on his oar-swift chair
his force kissed wary rivers
with conquistadorian care
fists and shivers
with orifices, orchids, and oceanic mythos
with gore married to slivers
of ornate flair
the gorgeous stare
of a soul bare and vicious
lets me know
that no prescriptions will impair your visions
but with such daring rarely witnessed
i can barely guess
you can bear to witness
You Blew Out Your CandleI feel my emotions dieYou Blew Out Your Candle by ieatrosepetals
As I watch the color of your eyes fade out
Just like the light in your heart-which was extinguished despite my attempts to keep it alive
I purposely stopped breathing just to save more oxygen for the flame…
Love is Waitingio sto in piedi di fronte ai cancelli,Love is Waiting by ieatrosepetals
I'm standing at the gates
una serratura arrugginita a bloccare la via
A rusted lock in my way
ma tu mi hai chiesto di restare.
But you asked me to stay.
day threei. learnday three by Lissomer
uncover her skeleton whispers,
her rampant regrets, and
her secret dreamings
she is bursting with words
that have never been spoken
and she is full to the brim
with faltering desires that
have never been given breath
you are all cogs
and clockwork magic
show her what makes
your minutes pass by
sometimes her mind will run
two steps ahead of her tongue
and she will ( smiling ) stumble
but she's attracted to intellect
and you're a wonderfully
precious kind of precocious;
so let your pillow talk lapse
from sweet nothings to science
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