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Mary Anne Norton
Rain sounds stir within
My very being
Sometimes I'm scared
Like a lost child
Looking for their mother
Seeking shelter
As rain increases
So do my fears
Of yesteryear and today
Soft patters of rain.
Reminders of dancing
In the rain
Rain rain go away
Come again another day
Perhaps when I'm ready
To weather the storm.
In my heart
wanting you,
or needing you,

leaves me in a
constant state
of confusion,

and focusing
on what I know
will not help me
reach a decision,

because all
I know is
you fill my
heart with an
iridescent sapphire
𝐀𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬, 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥, 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬
(𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭). 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭
𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥
𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥
𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞.
a star fell
to the earth
each time
i thought of You,

the sky
would be
void of light.
and me,
we are,
unified souls,
simply, united,
an unbreakable set,
underway, sailing,
like ship and sea,
this two-way street,
and me,
we are,
us. [one].
XVI. Committed
Chris Saitta
Maybe the darkest things are the truest things,
Death, the redoubtable lover of all, the atom bomb
Burns beneath cherry blossoms of closed eyelids,
A magnolia grove of forever fasting lips of the dead,
Pompeii and Hiroshima, twin lovers of rupture,
Graves of the wind now, keepers of nothing and all.
Hannah Willard
Crust cut off sandwiches,
brush the knots out of my hair.
Turn the night light on.

Check-in my closet,
read me a bedtime story.
I love you, goodnight.
J J Wilson
The scent of love yet to find, a constant essence, sprayed along  the heart of my mind
Alex L-C
Tis a fickle and brittle thing,
To some it comes as easy as living,
Others find it impossible to even see.
For's useless now.
I can no longer feel it.
I've searched for months.
But I never can find it again.
Maybe...just maybe...
I never found true love in the first place.
and we
won't just
    but we'll
      thrive till
        we're five
           and make
              peace with
                 our hearts
                     till we're
                                   and my
                                                            will talk
                                                                   to the
                                                                          sky and
                                                                               we'll drift
                                                                                      through the
                                                                                              night till
                                                                                                      we're free
I've bled
Till my veins run dry
My bones
Are shattered and broken

The ink
From my pen drags,
Then pools and
Blots the page
As I let it

All my energy
Siphoned from memories,
Has now diminished
I take my last breath
As  I allow
My small boat
To be pitched across
By the winds and waves

Poetic Eagle
I saw love in your eyes but it was definitely not for me
and l still find solace in them
random thoughts
Rupert Pip
You catch life
one tear at a time
to one day
fill an ocean.
I heard you liked short poems, so here's one for you.
I’m addicted to the feel of cold metal sliding across bare flesh
Addicted to the instant
when nothing marks smooth skin
immediately before
red rivers rapidly rise
painting a once white canvas
with a flood of emotion,
tears on my cheeks,
sobs caught in my throat,
numbness replaced by pain & sadness.
Addicted to the imperfection
of red welts and dotted scabs that follow,
fingers drawn like magnets
to the texture of healing skin,
tracing over and over and over now fading ridges
Amazed that I am strong enough
to heal myself over and over and over.
Convincing myself that I am strong enough.
I find strength in my weakness.
6 months self harm free! Writing about it helps fight the urge
his smile:
as tight as his belt
her lips:
as red as her throat

and it makes them more noticed,
but no less alone
eat something, please. <3

Thinking about getting a tattoo
But, I take pause...
Looking in the mirror
I see my body’s already covered
Marked in invisible ink
Every inch of my bare skin
Painted with the joy and pain of living
From my heart to my hips
Color faded here, but poppin’ over there
Memories designed by your hands
Others etched on my own
A collection that makes me smile
Among a few pieces I regret
So, about getting a tattoo...
I guess I’m not ready
Because I can’t think of a tattoo
Meaningful enough, yet
To write over any of the life I’ve lived
Megha Thakur
मन काग़ज़ की नाव,
जज़्बातों के समन्दर में बस बहें जा रहा है।
जो ये थम गया तो हैं डूब जाने का डर,
फिर भी ये आगे बढे जा रहा हैं।
-मेघा ठाकुर
Shreya Das
You well up my eyes,
then you stream down my face
so this is why I need time;
this is why I need space.
There's no relief. Why do I still see you in my dreams?
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
Stacy Mills
Slowly rotting
Slowly dieing
The signs are there
No one looks
No one cares
I reach out
Get pushed away
Hold my mask
I'll die one day
No tears will be shed
No sorrow to be found
When I'm finally
6 feet under ground
Why does it always feel like
no one's listening
when I talk?
I'm never loud enough..
Maniacal Escape
Dressed in ink smiles we stare back,
Memories on paper lost to time.
Happy visions gone by,
Premonitions of time already lost.
I hold the moments in my hand,
and I wonder to myself,
Would they recognise me now?
#memories #photos #friends
A writers mind is a splash of fertile paint upon a wall.

We shake the brush and sit and watch the living colours fall.
Mark Parker
A rose blooming in a summer rose bed
stops to envy you as you smell the roses.
For two beauties sit in the picture,
but neither is the rose.
The sight of you is a wonder to my eyes,
one that keeps me warm through winter days.
The grace inside you is as beauty
and beyond my words to explain.
So when I fumble my syllables,
embrace me as the rose embraces the rain.
“Help” Yesterday 00:00
Text is left on “read”
But rightly I await reply
Dear effervescent spring spirit,
With all of your power to move
heaven and earth
Why can’t I hear from you
Even a singular sigh?
Up so high
Which just gave me
More room to fall
And still no reply

“Help” Yesterday and Today 24:00
i looked down
twenty three stories

tears in my eyes
legs shaking

every intention
of falling head first

you see— i was just so tired
of having to land
on my feet
so many people
are so tired
of having to be so strong
the first time i broke a boy’s heart
i cried as i watched his love bleed for me
it poured out into my hands and still sticks to my hair this day
i smell its death in the wind

now, i break hearts with no pain, no remorse
i watch the light flee from their eyes and i no longer cry
what it’s like to be me?

feel nothing
create chaos
feel nothing
I want to write that in front of every achievement
I want to write it at the head of every poem I write

And I don’t think I will be able to create anything
At least, nothing I am proud of
Without an asterisk explaining
This is my depression work

For depression affects everything
Infects everything
Dims my worldview and
Makes me irrational, hypocritical and
Turns me into someone I am ashamed to be

Depression takes away half of my once-brilliant mind
It leeches off my creativity
Drains the enchanting, poetic optimism inside me
Until everything I think, everything I create, everything I am
Disgusts me

Just as a reminder
This is my depression work
I realize this
is the end
we will become
strangers again
boyfriend: best coast
cradles: sub urban
summertime sadness: lana del ray
face down on silk
electric shiatsu
twenty first century
me, myself & I: oliver tree
go with the flow: queens of the stone age
Rising into Love
Nighttime bequeathed it’s darkness
to the lightness of morn
while silence lingered
in the stillness of dawn
the whispers of life
made themselves known
8/7/20 appreciating the beauty and transitions of nature
Rupert Pip
Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.
Get to know me like I do you; inside and out.
The love you never had
The pain you always carried
The trust you never showed
The guilt you were consumed by
The joy you were seeking
The anger you held inside

The rest of them could never see
But I did
Because I was once like you
Jayne E
this poets soul
is sowing seeds
for loved ones lost
for unseen deeds
in the quiet times
dappled with sighs
dusted in pale light
are pre dawn skies
Mr Tui sings
he spreads wide
his wings
in upward flight
to the Puriri tree
I think of you
I dream you are free
toes mulled
in a turning tide
undertow pulled
the tears we cried
for you
I glimpse your eyes
crystalline blue
so briefly seen
caught in sea foam
sands washed
renewed pristine
I let go like the sun
& long for home

I fell in love with candlelight-
in my darkness, she shone so bright.
She danced the breeze, lit up the night,
her glow consumed my very sight.

But wax and wick both burn away,
and candlelight just cannot stay.
As sure as night turns into day,
that fickle flame will go astray.

But for a moment, through the storm,
she lit my world, she kept me warm,
then flickered out, as is the norm
for candlelight, its fleeting form.

I fell in love with candlelight,
for but a moment, all was right.
Her glow, her dance, consumed my sight,
and faded out at end of night.
The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do?

It wasn’t letting you go.

That was difficult though, to swallow my pride and wear a smile to hide the fact I’m not okay.

Oh no, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? Was finally admit to myself the truth.

It was admitting that you were never mine to begin with.
luna imagery
Once there was a boy
Who stood in front the mirror
For so long he drowned
He was gasping for air but
No one saw him but himself
Peter Balkus
Poets remember
snows in July
and sweaty heatwaves in December.
Middle of summer

Middle of desert

near 50 degrees

No one agrees

To have an ice cream

We ...

Wanna be an ice cream!

Even nights still burning

With no tired sun

With no fun!

Kisses like an acid

A forbidden added

We Wanna ...





It is the one king!

I like it ...

Watermelon juice


No sugar dose

Have it so cold

As we called ...

Wanna be an ice cream!
Flower C
Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.
I have sinned,
So destroy me,
With your rain.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
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