PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Xuebing Du

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Kiana Khansmith

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Love Begins
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@poeticphoria
Love?
Can you really call it love if you fell out of it?
Was it really a promise if you never kept it?
Was it so hard on you....that you left it?
Was I really bothering you even when you said I am the most interesting person you met?
Can I really call you my first when you weren't even there?
Was this all you could have given me? would you have given her the same?
Would you really ignore her 52 missed calls?
Would you really ignore her on her birthday?
Or Would you really have broken her heart on the phone?
Which one would it be baby?
It was you until it wasn't
US.
My peace
Desperate
I have come to terms with that I never wanted you.
To me, all you were—your actions, words, touch, and kindness—were nothing but feelings.
Feelings that I was loved when I wasn't
Feelings you cared when you didn't
Feelings that I was enough when you weren't
For you all these feelings, even I was just a play.
I was desperate enough that I didn't see the play because I was busy loving the player.
I never thought I would be against someone, on the pedestal of love.
But here I still love you even when I wasn't valued for even one moment of love.
ME.
MY LOVE
YOU.
My wish
Broken Dreams
I am going to be one of them, people made of broken dreams instead of matter.
whose eyes still shine with the hope of achieving a particular dream but dim again with the thought of it coming true.
will I be just like those whose mothers cradled their heads on their mother's lap?
I don't want that. I don't want my dreams, my precious parts of me, to fade away from me.
I don't want it to be so out of reach. So out of touch that it breaks me whole.
I just don't want my dreams to realize that I am not worth it. I am not the 'IT' they are looking for.
OH dream MY dream please choose me.
OH, dream MY dream please come to me.
OH, dream MY dream please don't hate me.
The real me
The eyes
Void
Is there a void in everyone's mind and heart
which they are trying to fill with memories maybe good maybe bad.
is this an instinct to fill it and not let it be. Why is there a need to fill the void and what happens after we do fill it?
are we satisfied? appalled? content?
So does that mean that life is nothing but a void we are trying to fill with memories. Filling each and every corner with it until it overflows and overwhelms you.
Untill it becomes so much that you are no long in need to fill it and just let it be?
It really is strange. To understand life is death. Noone on this earth actually understood the meaning and lived to talk about it.
and I hope no one actually breaks this cycle because it really kills joy of living of hoping a new day.