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  Mar 2020 Ephemeral Oblivion
Grey
My cries for help

Have been ignored,

I don't think I have the strength

To scream anymore.
Sometimes
The panic
Is more dangerous
Than the pandemic
Children aren't meant to know firsthand of the wars that are fought.
They are not meant to smell of
blood and ash and helplessness.
They aren't meant to be ferocious as feral wolves,
snarling and snapping at anyone that dares to get too close.
They are not meant to have bullets for words,
and knives for hands.
They are not meant to taste of loneliness,
much less of fear and gunmetal.
Children aren't meant to dream of loss
and failure
and sheets of blood that rain down
and paint the buildings
a macabre crimson.
Children aren't meant to become soldiers that fight the wars of their elders.
Don't grow up too fast. Enjoy your childhood while it lasts, because you'll miss it when it's gone.
the silence
hurts more
than the
words
I get replaced so easily
We stretch out our hands,
Waiting for salvation.

We watch the dripping sands
Of the hourglass with poignant resignation.

Our society demands
Of us to disregard those in isolation.

But the isolation is the only thing that understands
That this life is really nothing but eternal damnation.
This week has been nothing but stressful, and I'm on the edge of losing my ******* mind.
  Mar 2020 Ephemeral Oblivion
Kim
We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.
Please don't ever become a stranger,
whose laugh I can recognize anywhere.
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