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 Apr 2019 Nouara
TheWitheredSoul
Oh dear , I don't wanna get entangled with the miseries of my present for I always reside as the prisoner of my past.
I don't know where my path ends but I certainly do know I lost the only light I have ever known.
I don't feel the warmth of the sun.
I don't feel the gentle breeze skimming through my skin.
I don't feel the liveliness of my life.
I don't know how incompetent my feelings have evolved.
I no longer care about anything . I am no longer capable of grieving someones loss.
I think I have grown extant.
Maybe i LL have plants to eulogize me on my funeral for evolving into of them
 Apr 2019 Nouara
Trelon Grant
For the ones that have ached; listen to me.

Know that you are loved.
Know that you are forgiven.
Know that no one is perfect.
Know that mistakes are okay.
Know that losing people is a part of life.
Know that you can make it.
Know that it was all for a reason.
Know that you have someone.
Know that God is good.
Know that regrets are normal.
Know that it will get better.
Know that you will overcome this.
Know that you don’t need to live to please another.
Know that you are love itself.
Know that you are you, and that is okay.

Hang in there,


I’ve been there.
Most have as well.
It’ll be alright.
It’ll be okay.
You’ll be okay.
And I’ll be here for you.

IV Winds: A diagnosis of love - R.E.V/ Tre’lon Grant ©️
Let’s begin the poetry book. A road from hurting to healing, a diagnosis of love.
 Mar 2019 Nouara
Grace Conde
I exist
on the border
between Reality,
and the Imaginary.

I breathe in belligerent Black,
and Withering whites.
I am incapable of grays,
a gradient of gruesome Grief.

I dance on the Border,
exhaling exuberant fragility,
my border is made of glass.

And I rise from the ashes,
a Byproduct of the
bridges I've burned.
Craving soothing touch,
Yet silently seeking
Incriminating Isolation,
Addicted to my own destruction.

A shattered soul dutifully
Dances on the Border,
Held captive by her sins.
Trapped between Good
and Bad. Happiness
and Heartbreak. Lost
and Found. Death
and Resurrection.

Born on the Border, a
Simple Figment of
Immoral Imagination.
 Mar 2019 Nouara
Natalia
Box
 Mar 2019 Nouara
Natalia
Box
Little girl,
Put me in a box.

Blue box,
Red box,
Green box.

In a box I have lived my whole life,
Four walls,
Keeping me hidden,
Safe.

But no more.

You picked me up,
I’m no longer blue,
I’m not Red,
I’m not green.

Tell me, what box will you put me in,
Or will you,
Leave me floating in the darkness,
Where I neither fit nor don’t?

Tell me,
Little girl,
Where do I belong?
 Mar 2019 Nouara
nathan
wish list.
 Mar 2019 Nouara
nathan
i wish
i could beat you
until you are
black and blue

i wish
i could berate you
until you are deaf
to all but my screams

i wish
i could forget you
until you crawl back
desperate for more

but who would be the monster then?

— The End —