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 2d Arya
Rastislav
When you say something
no one understands,
but someone in the room
quietly nods —
there I am.

When you think
you’re the first
to feel that way,
and the word already sounds
like it was there before you —
there I am.

I am the voice
you did not invent.
You only
borrowed it.

I am the song
that waited for you
before you began to write.

I am —
not new.
But already said,
only this time
with your breath.
 Apr 2 Arya
Asuka
The flower needs rest,
so winter tucks it beneath the earth,
letting it sleep until spring.

The sun needs rest,
so the clouds and rain embrace it,
shielding its warmth for another day.
Take care, breathe easy, and give yourself the rest you deserve. Rest well, recharge, and remember, like the moon, even brilliance needs the night to shine again.

— A gentle reminder that even nature pauses to gather strength.
 Mar 27 Arya
Lalit Kumar
Once, you bloomed with reckless grace,
soft petals blushing in love’s embrace.
The wind would sigh your fragrant name,
as morning light adorned your frame.

Held in hands that trembled sweet,
pressed to lips where longing meets.
A whispered promise, a fleeting vow,
yet time has traced you different now.

Your crimson fades, your petals fall,
but love once touched you—that is all.
For though you wilt in golden dusk,
you lived, you loved, and that’s enough.
 Mar 26 Arya
Vianne Lior
Salt-wept and tide-lost,
foam-laced marionette drowns
once, the sea held hands.

Dreams are for today
Not tomorrow or any day
Don’t give up
Live for now
Give it your all
Sometimes we fall
Sometimes there’s
No one to call
Dreams big or small
Deserve to come true
Dreams, dreams
I have loved you
From the moment our eyes
Met across the crowded street
On that scorching summer day

And though summer
Soon came to a bitter end
I have loved you through
Every season ever since

And I guess I always will
 Mar 19 Arya
Natalie
Notice me
 Mar 19 Arya
Natalie
Her hands were soft and delicate, a carnivore's feast.
The burning ember captivated her gaze, too numb to notice.
Kyoto is a fragile porcelain bowl, cradling centuries of memories.
“Please, let’s go to Kyoto.”
Her eyes meet mine, too lost to be here.
“That’s not my name?”
You never quite listen to me no matter how much I speak. maybe our mouths would be better sewn shut then to let any meaning escape our lips.
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