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alexdelormepoetry · 2 months
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Sad is my favorite color
If it's you,
Your eyes
Ugly like mine.
Alex Delorme
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scribblersobia · 9 months
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What if we hadn't met? What would we have been like? We might not be like the way we are today, I don't know about you but, maybe I would have been the same as before, the girl who believed in friendships and love, that hopeless romantic with a soft heart, the girl who was like a butterfly, bubbly, cute, and full of colors, they say every person you meet in your life, change something in you, and you changed the way I look at love, I wish I would have never met you and never changed, I sometimes miss that girl I met before meeting you, because I miss her, her laughter, and her spark.
@scribblersobia
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poetrybytalia · 2 years
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isn’t it sad
how humans are so used
to betrayal, heartache and pain
to have it leave like a stain
that we’ve become
emotionally numb?
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goatpalacezine · 1 month
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Ribbons
Ribbons I cut the ribbons from my life to mark the pagesof the loves that made me cry, of the sleeplessnights knowing everyone has gone, from fieldsemptied over many years. I bravely look on. I wonder, will you remember my warm hand onyour hand, cooling as you slept away from me,the ribbon that kept us together now in a boxon my desk. The color of my life without you. I learned how to not grow…
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painted-poems · 2 years
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22 Diaries. Story eleven
How did I find myself there? Why?
That's the questions I keep asking myself.
At first I thought it was a great place to grow and learn new things. It wasn't.
Then I thought it was about you, because I've never experienced a connection like this before. But you turned out to be a liar.
Then why?
I believe that things happen for a reason, hence the questions I keep asking myself over and over again. Why?
This story was supposed be addressed to you, but I don't feel like I can trust you anymore. So, there it is as follows:
I know I've been here before, in this place. All the people and all the events. I've met them, I've seen them. The feeling is so strong that I almost cannot deny that this is the right thing, no matter how wrong it may seem.
You once told me that everything is written in the stars, that She plays every part in our lives, that everything gets Her way. I remember that came with such a relieve, because it meant that we don't have to worry about anything…
Perhaps, the thing I thought I was wasn't true. Perhaps, I believed in the image of me that people created. Hearing everyday how good and unique I was, I believed I was good and unique. Perhaps, what I am is the thing I am right now. Nothing more.
All the things I learnt were just useless things easy to learn. Life itself wasn't written in the book, though. That's why I didn't know how to learn it. That's why I don't know how to live a life that doesn't go beyond the cover of the book. The real life.
And this is what makes a lot of sense.
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muixea · 1 year
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I'm giving up our ghost
I had to remind myself that there was me, alone, to pick up the shattered pieces of my soul you broke.
That you are never coming back to mend them whole.
But then I remember what we said, that once our heart splits in two, it shall remember every sunset and waking of the dawn that was with you.
Yet how will I enjoy the hues of the sky when the sun sets, if all it reminded me was of the memories we shared?
That up till my waking, the tears that will drop will be made from your image alone, that I had in my dreams?
Until when will you haunt me, to make me recall that your fingers are no longer there to intertwine with mine?
And the empty cold space beside me is because of the absence of your warmth.
Darling, you may not be here, but the ghost of us remains, still.
I could see us, on the life we once lived and the promises we once shared.
Yet there is no choice but to leave because that life and those promises are already lost in the wind.
I'll turn my back on us, I'm giving up our ghost.
Fragments / lyst
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pocketapoembyccc · 1 year
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Pocket a Poem by CCC 🥰
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cozycoffinzzz · 1 year
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With the Season
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rhymingblades · 19 days
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The poetic urge to turn mundane things into your muse and immortalize them forever >>>>
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thewrittentales · 2 months
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Ride the waves of emotion with 'Storm Surge' by Beth Kanell. Poetry submissions now open at Written Tales! 🌊✍️ https://writtentales.substack.com/p/storm-surge-63f
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asaini-28 · 1 year
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"If only Shakespeare knew..."- A.S. #poetry #poetrycommunity #poetrysociety #poetrycorner #poetryhive #poetry_addicts #poetrybyme #poetryisnotdead #poetrygram #poetrydaily #poetryflow #poetrypage https://www.instagram.com/p/CmAEZJkO3nR/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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alexdelormepoetry · 7 days
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In the long night
I can see myself in the dark
Giving chase
To my own reflection
Alex Delorme
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scribblersobia · 10 months
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Things are so blurred, neither can I see my past, nor can I see my future, thoughts are running down my mind, I feel there is a tape recorder in my heart, that is, singing the same song for ages, I am aware, but I am lost, I am aware that I am missing in the woods of the past, I am aware that I am too old for the present, I am aware that I have, bygone the future, I am old, my soul is old, this place doesn't feel like home, the same song is playing in my heart.
@scribblersobia
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poetrybytalia · 2 years
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but that’s the thing, isn’t it?
when sadness consumes
your body
your soul
your mind
you finally learn
to stop caring
about yourself
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goatpalacezine · 2 months
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Remembering
Remembering the dead Angels, wandering, alone & with friends, broken & confused & unwanted, wide awake & sleepy & asleep, euphoric, terrified, child, in flight & trapped, shadow, number on numb stone, drowsy lamb, feared wolf, loving & loved & unloved, hollow, full, singing into low darkness, mute, possessed beyond reason, mother & father & the childless, recorded, forgotten, cherished, nameless…
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patinainsurance · 1 year
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