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 Jun 2020 Ale
nishta
a guitar riff.
 Jun 2020 Ale
nishta
the guitar riff
strums my heartstrings ,
plucking and letting go
with the soft unmarred hands of a child.
time turns one last time
before this memory too,
fades
as half of my essence had before.
leaving my marred hand
with no story.
the child is a past self.
I am so scared of growing up and forgetting all these tiny miniscule details of the whole picture which is my life. I seem to be forgettinng everything, every story and i don't want to grow old with a hazy memory of what i  used to be before.
 Jun 2020 Ale
Cailey Weaver
I'm letting you go, now.

I wasn't sure where to start.

But it's time to move on,

So rest easy, my heart.
Snow falls before Spring.  

Ice laughs amidst freezing air:

the sky’s confetti.



Or torn love letters,  

once smuggled under pillow.

Now bitter on tongue.
And so, she chose to reveal her heart.
Tore her ribcage door open,
and flinched as she waited for
the rays to spill and burn her up.

Instead, she was stunned to find
that the sun warmed even the darkest corners.
That the dappled glow kissed every sinew,
and she was filled instead with the light.
But the view's fine from here,
they say, all carbon copy cloying concern.

They don't know that the sun doesn't rise
and set quite so exquisitely
when your sky
is on fire.

But the view's from fine here,
they maintain, as unsaid words skulk in the throat.

They don't notice the skin that burns and crackles
and stretches at a breaking point
that's been broken
for years.

But the view's fine from here,
they confirm. And then turn away.

They don't see what shouldn't be seen,
what eyes can't afford to shut
even as glass splinters
edge closer.

And they are right, really,
because their view truly is fine from here.

#BlackLivesMatter i
It's been an indescribable week for the whole world. Watching all the scenes coming out of the US feels like watching a film you can't hit pause on. And I couldn't not write about it. .
First, I wanted to write from the perspective of someone in the riots, someone who's suffering from this appalling inequality. But it didn't feel right. I'm a white woman living in the UK, so this isn't my reality. The reality is that I benefit from my white privilege every day. And the reality is that many, many people in my position, with my privilege simply refuse to fully see what is going on, and don't attempt to empathise with those suffering.
.
I dream of a day we all understand our privilege and use it to help those whose voices are drowned out. #BlackLivesMatter
When evening comes, warm light floods our living room and
bounces off all the quiet angles of your skin.
The rays drink deeply from your pores
as all the gold in the world fills our little home,
and we’re the richest people alive.
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