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 Apr 2018 Madison Rowe
cyrene
Ocean
 Apr 2018 Madison Rowe
cyrene
Strangers with differences
brought us together ,
that could last
forever.

Your eyes
captured me
like gold
your smile
softened me
and made me feel
wanted
you
make me feel
worthy
of
myself.

Till this second,
you
sleep soundly
unaware
of
the oceans
of feelings
you're making
me feel every
day
of my
life.
Everyone goes through emotions you don't understand, they are like the ocean. Sometimes calm, sometimes not.
 Apr 2018 Madison Rowe
Jewel M C
i often find myself
devoid of the moment...
    ((( this moment )))
momentary in its passing
yet nearly fatal in its crashing

when did it become so difficult
to avoid an escape?
an exit from reality
from which we disconnect so easily

is anything real?
we're all searching
for a new way to feel
something
                      else
I know why the caged bird sings.

It's not because his song
is as vibrant
as his feathers, that he plucks away
each day because he doesn't
feel beautiful.

It's not because of the majesty
that exist in the freedom
of being able to spread his wings
though he knows
he'll never rise to the occasion.

He sings because he believes
that this cage
was made for a king
because he has never tasted
freedom with a side order of skies.

He's never flown past the sun
on a cool morning
or hung with the moon
on a warm night.

He's only ever known
the comfort of a prison
that his thoughts have
become accustomed
to calling home.

He would never venture
beyond the "welcome" mat
because what's beyond the threshold
holds no promise
the way these bars and metal locks do.

He sings because he knows
that no one is listening
so if he makes a mistake
he doesn't have to live with the regret
or embarrassment of knowing that he missed his note.

The caged bird
never believes that he's caged
because behind these walls
he's safe
and he prefers it this way.

I know why the caged bird sings.
A twist on a title by one of my favorite authors...
 Apr 2018 Madison Rowe
everly
pg. 51
 Apr 2018 Madison Rowe
everly
they leave
and act like it never happened
they come back
and act like they never left




ghosts
the sun and her flowers by rupi kaur
Imagine a blackhole
A contortion in the fabric of space
Twisting it to breaking point
Formed by a star collapsing into itself
Running out of fuel
Nothing can escape

That is me
In me
Around me

Imagine a river
And a boat
And people on the boat
The rapids of the water
The same speed as the boat travelling
Upwards
Going nowhere

That is the event horizon
Light at a loss
Gravity is an equal

I am there
Desperate
And tired
And worn out
And fatigued
And going nowhere

What
Is
The
Point?

Why don’t I stop?
Let myself fall in
Just let go
Just end this
pain

I am in the black hole
Simultaneously obliterating into pieces
Incinerating
And no one knows
No one can see
No one can see this me

I’m just freefalling

— The End —