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deer tracks in the snow
forget what you think you know
enjoy being lost
 Feb 1 Syafie R
Nemusa
Ebony branches,  

holding back teardrop whispers,  

night's sorrowful sighs.
 Feb 1 Syafie R
Vrinda
"You are the star of my sky,  
A beacon in the dark,  
Guiding me with every sigh,  
You light the deepest spark.*

In your gaze, I find my home,  
A place where hearts can fly,  
No need for maps, no need to roam,  
For you are my guiding sky.

Through storms and clouds, you still shine bright,  
A constant through the night,  
The star that makes my world feel right,  
My love, my heart, my light."
I feel so small,
yet so do the stars,
when seen from afar,
they shine through the scars.

And now I feel better.....
when you left
you took the color with you,
and now the world
is like an old television set,
with muffled sound
that grates the ears,
and a picture
that cuts in and out,
filled with static,
in brilliant black and white,
that's made more of shades of gray.
did your world get more vibrant,
when you de-saturated mine?
or did the color
disappear entirely;
slipping out of your fingers
to be consumed
by the void
where my heart
once lived

Contributed by @the.poetic.gatsby
On Instagram, Threads and TikTok
"I miss the color in my life"

I really enjoy this writer and authors  work
 Jan 31 Syafie R
badwords
Stained are teeth, and fingers yellow,
Softly whispered lies we keep.
Smoke unfurls in breath so mellow,
Promising but sinking deep.

Coiling tendrils, soft and clever,
Lull the mind in fleeting grace.
Cinder ghosts that warm, yet sever,
Leave their embers on the face.

Every spark—a pledge unwinding,
Every drag—a weight we bear.
Sworn to comfort, yet confining,
Clinging to a thinning air.
Nicotine is a tightly structured, lyrical poem that explores the tension between fleeting comforts and the greater aspirations we often neglect. Using nicotine as both a literal and metaphorical device, the poem examines the small indulgences we cling to—despite knowing their cost—drawing a parallel to the broader human tendency to accept self-deception for the sake of temporary relief.

Through vivid imagery of smoke, stained fingers, and fading embers, the poem evokes a sense of quiet resignation, underscoring the slow erosion of will beneath a comforting but insidious habit. The rhythmic AB meter reinforces the hypnotic cycle of desire and consequence, mirroring the way these comforts lull us into complacency.

At its core, Nicotine is a confrontation—a mirror held up to our daily rationalizations, asking whether we truly seek change or merely the illusion of control. The introspective tone invites readers to reflect on their own vices, however small, and consider what they may be sacrificing in the name of fleeting ease.
 Jan 30 Syafie R
Micah
the hands on the clock stall at the center of it all, unmoving
everything , stutters, slides, stammers around them
silences bubble up in the swamps of entropy
in these celestially celebrated serenades.
I grind my heart into a paste
for sealed mason jars
to be opened when
the nights
flare up
yearnings
of yesteryears,
to be comforted
with the tastes that eluded
my tongue, in all the years I left behind,
in the bags I left unopened under the bed,
Straight from the planes I pulled them from.
These are back aches from staying still in the buses
That carry me from one moment to another, place to place
The metaphoers escape me
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