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 Mar 16 Shang
Ian Murray
Hurt seen in the eyes
Knowing Im to blame
Your world came crashing down
Never the same

Glint gone from the eyes
Spark no more
Hollow inside
Where love once was
Love shown the door

The sorrow shown hurts me more
Than the pain of your loss
Hurts to the core

Forever forgive the child in me
Who hurt you once again
Pain now leaving this house
Why?
All in vain.
 Mar 16 Shang
Jess
A flower I dared not pluck -
out of love for your radiance,  
out of fear of your silent ache,  
out of care for your unfolding,  
out of awe for the life in you.  

The thought of your wither  
was a storm I could not weather;  
so I let you be, untouched,
praying you would bloom,
forever reaching toward the sun.

Letting you bloom was my wish,
but when the storms came too strong,
you decided to wither away,
because the weight of the world,
felt heavier than your light.

Holding the memory of your petals,
I wonder, if my hands, though gentle,
could have held you together or,
if the storms were always destined
to take you back to the earth so soon.
 Mar 16 Shang
Max Vale
Lovely
 Mar 16 Shang
Max Vale
wake up, tell me
does the sky look pretty?
step off, outside,
does the sun shine radiantly?
look around, listen,
do the birds sing beautifully?
if you ask me, i'd say,
that it all looks lovely.
 Mar 16 Shang
Max Vale
when time stood still,
like that photo,
on your window sill.

sat on that hill,
like that river,
let those waters spill.

do you think we'll,
regret that choice,
if we take that thrill?

in that moment,
would you risk it all?
even if we fall?
 Mar 16 Shang
Vianne Lior
He arrived ,
fire-tongued
wings lacquered in sunlight,
like a breath the garden forgot to exhale
green burning against green.

I was a child
with small hands that believed
giving was enough
to make something stay.

I fed him,
chilies plucked from the crooked vines
my father planted
bright little tongues,
burning red,
barely ripened,
all I had.

He bit me,
a clean puncture,
as if to say:

Love is no debt I owe you.

Blood welled up,
startling, hot,
the first truth nature ever gave me.

I stood there crying
while he finished the offering,
then flew away,
lighter.

What child understands hunger
until it pierces skin?


The next day,
I was waiting,
small hands trembling again,
opening as if the bite
had never happened.
Bitten through with tender betrayal—that first raw lesson about how love and hunger don't always flow both ways. But I’ve learned: not every hand must stay open.
🦜🤍
 Mar 16 Shang
Sunamin Tamang
For Humans

What is most perilous
& chaotic?
Is it the ghosts? The viruses?

No
It is the self.
The Self.
The Brain.
A hidden sage
a wrecking ball
a firestorm in silence.
No alien force
could match
the tiny brain
the mighty peril of the human.
 Mar 16 Shang
Sunamin Tamang
~
I could resist
I could!
Oh surely
I swear I could.

I need no anesthesia
No Anesthesia or numbness
Darling~
Please

Come over me
  My Dr. Sweet Anggie please
    I implore you!
Take your razor-edged scalpel
   Only you!
Make a safe incision.

With your soft warm hand
    Wrench my heart away from me!
  Detach my pumper & leave me whole.
     Undo my pumper with my brain
  So I may cease this non-physical war!

  Let the blood flow torrentially & free,
Like lunatic waters in breaking dams &
  rivers.
I care not!
I want it nevermore.

Take it it’s yours!

I want it nevermore.
Take it it’s yours.

~~
 Mar 16 Shang
Marc Morais
I stand beneath pale shivers of blue,
a ledge like a wound cut wide,
leaking light that curls and fades,
pulling shadows from my feet.

Blue light spills down my arms,
its slick mouth gasping
for something to hang on to—
the cliff feels like the last place
that will suffer the burn of my absence.

Roots claw up my spine,
half-snarled, half-reaching,
piercing the arches of my feet,
climbing into my pounding chest
and dragging me down.
The rocks beneath me ache—
I am nothing but their raw bruise,
a silent scream knotted deep,
twisting beneath the skin of stone.

Branches coil like fists,
aching against the merciless pull,
caught between the rise of ocean and sky,
a fragile, but ravenous hunger.
The sky itself feels knotted,
like the moment before something snaps
and imagination comes loose in the dark.

I know this place—
The bones in my legs shiver,
like a cry drowned in memory.
I feel the pull, not from the ground,
but from a need to let go—
a hunger refusing to stay quiet.

Each step forward feels like tearing—
not the clean rip of a bandage,
but the slow tearing of skin from bone.
I stop just before the last place
where I can call myself one,
held to ground I barely know,
hostile, toward the place
where light dies—
my bones hollow and cold.

And so, I stand here, bare—
a shadow stitched to air,
waiting to see
if the light will come back to me,
or if I will fall.
 Mar 16 Shang
Marc Morais
I sit on her lap—
no questions
no words for tiredness.

My head—
just above the surface
watching the sky curve
into a blue cradle.

She does not ask
if I am afraid
or if I want to stay—
I only know
what it means
to be held—
to feel her close
without breaking.

To be
the soft body
of an island.
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