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AE Feb 16
A trace of light
That's all you and I look for
when those mountains fade
behind descended clouds
and that ache in our shoulders
crumbles under the fire of this rain

the moon and all its pieces
lost to all these thoughts
you and me, the same and most different awake and restless
the silver lining of this charcoal moon
is getting harder to find

until comes this eruption of warmth
and a storm of pattering fear
that if I start counting seconds
you might disappear
so, I guess it goes without saying
everything you've always known

these nights go by in wonder
of how to build you a home
Sadie Feb 12
It’s raining
In this place that doesn’t rain
This place that’s made of dust
Rocky and bright
It’s raining
And I’m crying
The trees are being watered
As I am withering
Life is being given to death
Barren land
Empty scenes
And I’m dying
In the rain where it shouldn’t be raining
Rain that is not like home
Let me go home
The home that I left
The dungeon I escaped
Let me go back
I want to go back
Where pain made sense
Where rain was supposed to rain
Where tears were supposed to be shed
I want my mother to hug me while she screams
Bruises and bad dreams
I want my father to leave me while I weep
Unwilling to see
I want that pain
Anything over my vacant brain
I want to feel again
Anything
I was invisible
Forgettable
So completely free
My mind was mine
It wandered and it dreamed
Please
Put me out of this empty misery
Take me back home where nowhere feels safe
I want rain where there should be rain
Pain where there should be pain
luna Feb 9
god forbid, but there's no way to deny it. juliet's family had perfected the art of chaos. it was not just a mere event, but it was their way of life.

mornings turn into a journey of walking on a maze of landmines. and family dinners were an event to behold. the white wheat of rice flew like confetti, pieces of vegetables and fruits ricocheted like bullets, and her cats were forever in fear of an imminent earthquake.
god forbid, but she couldn't just escape the relentless storm from her family. if you asked her to define what's normal, she'd probably draw you a sketch of a random line and label it "home sweet home".

juliet yearned for an escape like a sailor lost in an ocean, longing for the calming waves of the sea. each day felt like a battle against the tide of noise. she'd die for silence, for a moment to collect her thoughts without interruption. her room, once her sanctuary, had actually become a battleground of noise. her favorite songs blared through the walls, while her favorite video game conquests echoed like a distant thunder. it felt like a castaway on her own island, drowned and surrounded by a sea of hurls.

desperately seeking a haven of solitude, the constant waves that took her, leaving her like a mere shell of who she once was, part of her, hoped for a place— a place that she could call her home.
can't think of a title lol
Jeremy Betts Feb 7
It's a long shot but I have to hold out hope
That someone, somewhere out there is rooting for the loser 'cause I'm running out of rope
And at the end of that rope is no place to find a future
Spoiler
You'll only ever find the end there
I know I'm not going to win, will never be of note
There's never been anyone at the end cause I'm not worth sticking around for through thick and thin...
...I know
I'm the one making that almost impossible
My minds a riddle, my past is a hurtle
Im the worst one man show showman
I don't choose to be alone
I try to build a home
But I can't afford land that's not sand
So my foundation can never be as strong as I hope I am
As competent as I need to be to be the man I want to be
It's sad to know that man will never be seen...
...fade to black...
...end scene.

©2024
Duzy Feb 1
I'm comfortable down here,
I rest easy down here, for here is the bottom.

Nestled tightly against my bottom is the bottom.
There is no way down so things cannot get worse.

Up there is hope. Hope CAN be poison.
Why would you want to taste poison?

Down here is comfort. Comfort IS home.
Why wouldn't you want to be at home?

Warm, safe, reachable
It's the hope that kills you. I've heard
Rone Selim Jan 28
O’ country of my blood,
country of my ancestors
I long for you
Your luscious green landscapes
and your highest mountains
Your beautiful waterfalls
and your fountains
The sound of the neighborhood kids
laughing in the streets,
I long for you

A time where we ran outdoors so excited
we forgot to put our shoes on,
sitting on the front porch buying watermelon from the fruit-cart man,
then sharing it with our friends,
I long for you

Wherever I go I belong to you, one day shall my ashes be scattered and soil with you.
Being displaced as a child and not being able to experience the life lived in my birthplace and homeland.. these are some of the memories I got to experience while my first and last short visit after moving away. 5 years apart.
Now 22 years since the visit.

And 27 years living here as an “outsider” - however I would still be considered as an “outsider” in my homeland too.
Jar lids pop
snow sheets slide
pitch pockets snap
water kettle groans

First light exposes
crystalline canvases
against frozen glass
the stove’s heat
melts them away
like ice Mandalas

All that is beautiful
is impermanent.

All that is unique
lives only once.
I recorded myself reading this poem. You can listen to it here: https://youtu.be/iHuWrLKcdSk?si=yJawbNC4tjb6Ut_Y
B Feb 9
Dear lover, forgotten
dear lover, remembered
I see you are still here
I hope you'll be tender.
So much here has changed
so little been moved
the streets have grown crowded
I'm looking for you.

October arrived, I was not ready
I choked and I sobbed
and sputtered out like the engine
of a tired old Chevy
my hand is burned, my ribs are tired,
for my heart has grown so heavy.

So soon, loving you
was not a decision
the way you scorned me
became only a thing of derision.
I'm horribly laughing; giddy
too hot tears, flooding up my vision.

Someday I'll be a happy man's bride
because where you are discreetly rotten,
I am good, and I am kind.
My lonely walls have been abandoned
but you'll still be playing make believe
stuck between a creek and a canyon.
Hannah M Jan 19
It's been a while,
Don't you think ?
And
I haven't learned a thing
No way I jump
I know I'll sink.
And still
You'd have no clue.
How much
You twist me up
Melt me...
Bind me like glue.
It's silly
Don't you think ?
When I'm driving home
From a good time,
Tell me why
I think of you.
Rosie Jan 15
Beneath the canvas of the starlit sky,
A beacon burns, a lullaby.
Through shadows cast, a tale unfolds,
Of a love more precious than gold.

In shadows interlaced, the glow would sing,
A celestial whisper, a familiar wing.
I'd stray at times, chasing the day's fleeting gleam,
Questioning the light, like a forgotten dream.

Resentment clung to the flickering light,
As if returning home was a surrender to night.
In my heart, a whisper of pride,
Home meant I hadn't soared wide.

Through the years, the light reframes,
No longer a symbol of forgotten aims.
Like moth to a flame, I’d circle back,
To a hearth that murmured, a quiet track.

Now, the light's not a sign, not a line in the sand,
But a soft place to land, in an unknown land.
A sanctuary, a heartbeat, a welcoming roam,
In the cadence of shadows, I find my home.

The door swings wide with a creak and a sigh,
A refuge awaits, where tears can dry.
So, as I wander life's unknown,
The light guides me back, a beacon of home.
I may see home different, but the light always stays on.
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