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Ghost of Jupiter
With out warning

As a gift of sunlight
You came to me in my


Illuminating my cracked soul
And fissured heart

Making me so aware
Of the damaged woman

I really am

But your tender love
Revealed a beautiful prism of


That can shine through
My brokenness
Thank you for being my sun
Time heals all wounds
Yet the scars still remain
A smile is plastered on your face
Yet your eyes are vacant with pain

They tell you to move on
That your feelings are aged and invalid
"You're always happy; you're not depressed"
Their words portray their ignorance
And still, you never rest

Time heals all wounds
So... you must be okay
Nimisha Rana
I saw you standing there
I know you cannot bear
With weary eyes and skin so dry
You looked down wanting to cry

You want to hide in unknown places
Kept running away from your fears
Covering up your ears
To the words you don't want to hear

Storming days suddenly passed
You didn't moved until the sunlight flashed
You looked up and surveyed the sky
Finally found a reason to smile
Follow my writings on instagram @_spread _u_r_wings
people say
is the color of love.
it is
the dusty shade of roses,
the hue of lips painted,
the shimmer of her dress
when you dance.

but really,
red screams of
it is
the shade of poppies in an empty field,
the hue you see when she leaves you,
the shimmer of book covers
in an empty library.

is a better color.
it is
the shade of muted sunsets,
the hue of vibrant music,
the shimmer of a light burning
on a dark evening.

makes up the embers of love,
burning bright and strong and fast
until it is

is the color of love.
Kitten Yvad
every time i forget my own heart
here comes that deep blue
waves rolling over from true north
place me back
in that silly sparkling abyss again

i wait by the waves
i can’t swim
naive enough i ask to play

sun the moon and stars
in our sky

oh the ocean
asks me to wait
i obey, forever stay
in good faith

Always waiting

For a better winning

It is not a race

It is a life

High 5

Looking for a future

Tweeting like a twitter

a bird lover

With No lover

No plan


Wish to choose naps

Like google maps


Drive your dreams

In an expected way



I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
because she tells me it is my destiny,
and it is all in the email she sent me.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
because she possesses many Riches,
and she has promised me all of them.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
from her wretched uncle,
who will steal her wealth and lock her away.

I would save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
but she only needs my Government ID,
Bank Account and Social Security.
Someone please take my pen away,
For I cannot even bear to face in words the lamentation of my heart!
I cannot bear to acknowledge that I will never kiss my love again!
For a moment
I was all of my selves
And realized
They are still me
They aren’t my mind
But their souls still reside
In the same moving sea of time
It was a kind of relief
I wanted her
She wanted me to
We both wanted each other
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
Books desire to be read,
Songs desire to be sang,
Dreams desire to be fullfilled,
Hearts desire to be loved;
-so does mine.
Dennis Willis
Just the right distance
Can't get far enough away
shadowed and still
you can't see me

where letters slow
down where typing
slows down and
letters want to crawl
back up my fingers
from whence
they came

undo close
undo undo undo
nothing happens
and the wound
doesn't close

I have 12 percent
bowl distance
of masking flood
to the fingers
where the fight has declined
to skin on plastic keys
immune to pressure

the forefinger tip tracing the squarish
key of j
or is it J

Circling definitions feed
on my showing up as
posing weakness
and pieces drift away
like readers
Jay eM
Lay here with me
Under the coral sky

With each passing bird
Wishing we could fly

Endless roaming clouds
Keep slipping by

Lay here with me
Under the glimmering stars

Miles of nothing
Expect a few silent cars

This moment right here
Can only ever be ours

Lay here with me
Day and night
I though of this while out for a run. Funny how I still think about you even after all this time. What is it about you that draws me in?
Surkhab kaur
I don't wish the power to be in hands of a woman
I don't wish the power to be in hands of a man
The world will be a better place...
only when millions of beings will be seen as one.

This is what the the feminist said.
"If you stand for equality,then you are a feminist.
Sorry to tell you."
                                    -Emma Watson
Usually we are mistaken between a feminist and a misandrist.
A feminist is a person (not a can be a woman as well as man)
who believes in equal rights of men and women. But in our society feminists are considered to be misanderists i.e a woman who hates men. We cannot forget that during the first feminist movement in 1848 in Seneca Falls, New York, 3oo men supported feminism in this movement. We should not have any problem with a misandrist or misgynist ( a man who hates women) because that's there personal choice...we don't know under which circumstances they reached this hatered.
Because even a woman can be a monster
and even a man can be an angel.
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
never alone
sometimes forgotten

always loved
sometimes a problem

some changes are made
sometimes they backfire

some things take time
sometimes they expire

maybe its life
maybe it's not

maybe it's me
maybe you’re wrong

you’re never alone
you’re never not wanted
keep staying strong
keep your kind heart kind-hearted.
to yourself.
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

Flawless is her art
Life now drips from every thread
Silk now spun in dark

New day, new haiku!
Now that I've done with the Pleiades, I'm back to other women of myth!
This one is for Arachne. Now she always stood out to me.
The myth I grew up with is that she was overly arrogant and proud about her talents. Athena challenged her and well, Athena lost. Even the Goddess of Wisdom and Handicrafts was in awe of Arachnes work. As Ovid said, Athena couldnt find 'a fleck or flaw—even Envy can not censure perfect art'. But then, Arachne didnt portray the gods in a good light either. (Tbh, most myths are about the Gods being ******* to humans AND each other). Athena tore the loom, in jealous rage and we all know what happened, Arachne became a spider. There are in fact two alternate stories with the same ending. One is the one I grew up with, Athena cursed her to be a spider, but the other one is that Arachne ended her life as the Goddess destroyed her proudest work and she was turned into a spider out of pity. Either way, I was alluding to a spider with the last line. Ironically, while writing this, I saw two spiders in my living room and several baby spiders in my garden.
Which doesn't help my arachnophobia 😅😅😅
Anyway, thank you all for growing followers! 376 followers! I'm forever humbled and grateful for the support🙏🌹💜
Here's the link for the growing collection:
Be back tomorrow with another one!
Much love,
Lyn 💜
our souls
keep trying to touch

but our bodies
seem to be in the way
*** means something
*** means something
with her
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
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
Feel guilty
Be sad
Im doing that

Why isnt it passing
Why cant i want to get out of bed
Why dont i feel worthy of anything

We all die alone right

Maybe we can scream at the moon
        Together tonight?

Maybe we feel the same..
But we speak different
no name
my skin was ice
and you despised the cold
I'm tired of impressing people, or trying to I mean.
But once I win someone over, I'm bored of them
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.
Agnes Lyndy
Emotions are words penned in the book of the mind.
Why does it always feel like
no one's listening
when I talk?
I'm never loud enough..
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.
We haven't met yet
But I feel like I will enjoy making you smile..
Watch you laugh
And maybe pause the moment
Or let it play in repeat but in slo-mo

We haven't met yet
But I feel like our hugs will last
a longer while..
My small head resting on you safely
As you fight the urge to carry me

We haven't met yet
But I feel like we'll be in each other's space for a while.
Star Dust
dirge is being played
I haven't died yet
I am just as alive as air

then I hear a ceramic plate break
just like a glass from which I drink every day
and the ruins have everything
that I want to say.
the things i want to say is so broken that my lips can't form into words.  maybe that's why i am quiet.
Oh bless you
You light up my life
You’re my poetry partner
My inspiration
My elation

You keep me going
Keep me writing
Keep me flowing
In poetry motion
My devotion
To you L ♥️🌹♥️
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.
Grace E
She wore wisdom and war
Behind the veil of her eyes
A piercing discernment
Her eyes were a monument
Of the undercurrent
Swelling in her soul
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
a star fell
to the earth
each time
i thought of You,

the sky
would be
void of light.
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.
João Rodrigues
on a heavy morning,
the birds sang

a faint sunlight
dodged the mass
an old oak tree

an impending rain
was booed,
or maybe
or preached,

the first drops,
the last wingbeats,
in the old oak tree
a bird sang,

he called,
he waited,
he knew
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
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