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I AM….

A sudden breath of sensation,
neither happiness nor sadness
yet carried on the winds of truth.

In the absence of tenderness
there is yearning for certainty,
damp with longing.

Within a film of fog
little points of dew
pinprick the mind
with hope, guiding
each tiny step toward
the vast path of sun.

Sunset hovers briefly
allowing the darkling
tones of evening as I
become a vessel of
unhurried thoughts.

I am the echo of a far
off river, a dream of
open sky, a translation
into love’s own language.

And sometimes, in a flash
of half-dream, I understand
the art of letting go.

Surrounded by a company
of stars, I am solitude.
J Vital Mar 8
Am I to journey
Sacred hot desert
of the Sahara,
To find my flora?
Am I to decipher
Secret Golden Sands?
While Navigating
Open Oasis drylands,
To seek solace in
These Lush Highlands.
Would I need to travel
Kingdom of Safari?
Like a canary,
finding its mantra,
And crafting each stanza.
Would I need to go through
Tiger's and Lion's den?
Roaring courage, and
Bravery like mighty men.
Just so I can chase down
delicate flutters,
Of butterflies' glimmers.
In this adventure trip,
I will journey
Through wild terrains,
and the sun's safari,
Where there exists
Love and happiness.
Where hope blooms like flora,
In this Oasis arid area.

I will find my sanctuary.
In the rarest destiny.
Would love some feedback on this one.
Jellyfish Mar 7
Shame encircles me
It's a cloudy fog that blurs everything,
Making it harder to see reality
I run inside my mind and hide in a dream.

I am a master at romanticizing!
I might even avoid you to interact with a fantasy,
My mind likes to protect me by airbushing things,
even though what I want is to live authentically

Every moment that I'm not present
Is a lost opportunity to change my mindset.
I'm trying to push past my negative thoughts
and ground myself but I feel so stupid.

I want an identity.
It’s only natural
When you cut out impurities that
A bit of you comes too

When you cut a splinter
From your palm
Using a pocket knife
You cut across the top
Of where you see the splinter’s shadow
And pick it
With the tip of the knife

Now
Ideally
That’ll pry the splinter loose
One shot
Maybe a bit of blood
No tears

But if it’s a stubborn ******
You could pick and pick
And pry up chunks of skin

The blood gets going
And the splinter digs in deeper
Just because you won’t let up
And it’s a whole ordeal

But you’re determined
Not to let it get the best of you
Renae Feb 13
My ego is a part of me
It protects my self esteem
gives me ultra confidence
It can also make me mean
my ego can be seen as cruel  
It would be stupid for me not to see
My ego can be healthy,
be my downfall...
My ego decides my destiny
I have to check my ego
Ultimately
Because in the end,
my ego, can be the death of me.
Bekah Halle Feb 10
I come home a foreigner.
The sun is warm and welcoming,
But the environment has changed.
Curiosity is beconning,
But with gentle eyes.

I come home changed.
Last time I was more timid,
This time, a little stronger.
Last time I thought my weaknesses were insipid,
This time, they are part of me.

I come home curious,
As to what it might be, I ponder.
The family dynamics.
The opportunities that I may squander,
In fear of becoming my truest self.

I come home braver.
Even though on the outside I may be frailer,
Even though.
I might not be, but opportunities I can tailor,
So, it is with courage I move forward.
display Feb 7
dying young seems like a dream
i dont want to wake up
im sober in my high
in the end it means i cant escape
the reality of the situation is crushing
i split my hands open and there was nothing there
maybe i was holding on to something before this
im not the type to remember anyways
i was walking next to you but i forgot your face
and i still hear your voice
as we become faded in each others memories
i cant help but become someone new
but its still the same me regardless
to have love and been loved is to know grief
all things come to an end
maybe thats why we obsess with the limit
even life comes to an end i assume
im sad because i still love you
my humanity leaves me as i fade to monstrosity
i dont feel like myself anymore
i look in the mirror
the mirror looks at me
i love you more than you know
Laconic Noor Feb 1
Surmise too often, likely a sheer redundancy, unduly supposition went south I'd slump it from high.
Curious? I'd throw down the gauntlet; fathom me out throughout the time of hesitation.
nora Jan 31
I watch her watch herself,
pale, slender fingers pressed against her flat stomach.
She gives an uncertain sigh as she turns this way and that,
twirling a lock of hair in her pale, slender fingers
and trying to look disinterested in her own reflection.

She reaches into a tiny purse, eventually,
and pulls out a tube of mascara.
Her eyes widen to marbles as she teeters close to the mirror,
applying her armor stroke
by stroke
by stroke.

She knows that I am watching her now (I wobble hazily in the mirror),
so I look away for a moment,
and by the time my eyes dart back to hers, her eyelashes flutter pitch black
Like ink spilling from a fountain pen.

I can tell she’s still looking at her stomach
And she can tell I’m still looking at her,
so she murmurs something like acknowledgement
and brushes past me.
Watching her walk away feels wrong, so I look down at my hands instead,
red and pruny
from the hot water seeping down the drain.
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