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It’s hard to know
What a life will mean
Mid sentence

Choices made
Driven by the times
Unchosen

It’s no game
But someone loses
Every time

And so we love
To show the other
We’re the same

In the end
You tried your best
So did I
Who knows how history will recall this time? We cowrite this story in real time, set out with intention.  Everyone knows that life ends with death. Still we wait with bated breath, hands shaking with trepidation over how it all ends.
 Nov 18 Mariya
Cassandra
I brushed off the old dust,
I let in the bright morning sun.
I pierced into the deep solar glare,
I undid the senile spurn.

I tied my scrawny hair back,
I felt the wet leaves of the fern.

My eyelids shut closed as I took in,
the stale smell of mouldy wood and of rusted tin.
I put together compartments of paper boxes,
I made my way around the barren room,
I felt the air brush past my skin
I opened the door and I let the world quietly step in.
Sunrise, coffee, holding hands, birds having conversations, life is grand.
Sitting here peacefully, just another day.
Mountains were moved for it to feel this way.
Tears were shed, blood was bled, pain and egos overcome.
Time heals all great or small, and if we try maybe we'll find love.
Stars and moonlight, everything feels right.
Sitting here peacefully, just another night.
Finally feels right
Finally peaceful
Finally love
Finally.
https://youtu.be/U8lSESQq54Y?feature=shared This poem is on my new you tube channel if anyone is interested
 Nov 18 Mariya
Cassandra
Born with a small twitching body,
with a small soft face
living a small life,
Repulsed, filled with rage and hate.
One day i will wake up
and do something great.

Extraordinary, truly remarkable,
Etch something coarse
on the parchment of fate,
One day i will wake up,
Unforgettable,
and do something great.

Write a list of the big differences I can make,
Go deep, scratch all my dreams' buried surface
Maybe one day little things will add to a lot,
The fears will fade,
I will do something great.
So many things to do, so little time, so much fear. everything intertwined
 Nov 18 Mariya
Cassandra
How long
Can one wait
For life to begin?
For miracles to occur,
for love to unwrap
and for strength come.

How long
Have you
Already waited?
with your heart in your palm,
open to the world.
with the twinkle in your eye,
staring down at the earth.
with your voice quieted to a whisper,
with your anomalies hidden in a shameful corner.
For the world
to be kinder, for its touch
to be softer.
For Mariya

a poet who apologizes
that she ent be able to
to keep up with my new poems, for she is transiting to the front of the Ukraine – Russia
War,
I have a new poem sent to me every day only for my eyes, and I send a new poem every day only for his eyes, it a special pact that they just for us alone, and I love that. What a sad end though, maybe someone new will come who read you poem-a-day love?
Mariya

<>
Patience is a golden key that, over time, opens every single door...
and for this alone,
we live for ourselves eternally,
awaiting our
daily dose
of almost yet,
an unshared single breath,
that enlivens us for twenty four more,
till that day, that, time,
when the poems are whispered
in each others ears, and exchanged
in a breathed breath via kisses that are
incapable of being wasted or
impossible to record,
and yet!
a singular breath
each an addition
to our owned private
library-
that will last the exact length of our two
lifetimes combined…
~*~
o.l.p.
~~
weep not for me,
my poetry is indeed diurnally
drunk,
by anyone and all who love
the notion
that it is
the potions of our words
that are the essential essences,
the very elixir
that creates & sustains
the ephemeral ether
we need to exist,
that we loosely label
love!
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