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I have
memorized you,  dear muse, each wavering eyelash that
casts shadows over fair cheeks,
The rythm of your steps to the
algorithym of your life
The pace of your breaths, quick  lovely, lively

yet you remain lifeless beneath my brush on cloudy days-
your voice eludes me, presence evades me,
Rain seeps through your hair like cold sunlight dappling forth,
thin strokes
murky paints and effusing-

red flames.
I watch how limerence tricks you
to take their hand,
why.
not.
mine?.
You
smile
laugh
and love
leaving me behind.

For I will always be the besotted artist,
and you,
my beloved muse.
guilt of a shared secret.
The sickeningly sweet taste,
of fruit
too overripe
like
passion
drunk on stale wine

Parches your throat
and its tartness stranger to the tongue,

which- please
may never let
those dear
secrets see light
Start the sorrow.
You leave me in a
dusky field
of charred-petaled roses,
Crumbling to ash-

My hope yields- forms
clouds that obscure....
skies into colors of drowning,

Why am i left behind?
To play such a pathetic part


as you make my icarus's heart
chase the shadow of an
already
setted
sun.
19h · 30
Untitled
Your haunting, haunting visage
akin to smoke
a remnant
mourning for light- any form of respite.
Spiralling and writhing languorously
to the sun.

In my mind's bleary eye
The dust in the air is
kicked up by your
Departing steps
which
leaves behind this scattered bouquet of
my broken heart?
Someone help give this a name?
Mar 25 · 206
Strange (re)encounter
Sophie Chen Mar 25
Bright spring
But a pale shadow flicks
Behind my
Back

It reaches for
my hand

Grasps tightly,
like memory
Whispers,
sweet nothings

“Oh, \my beloved,
how I-
miss you”

Delusion, only a breeze,
Yet pitched so familiar
In tone

And my heart’s resolve
Falls through
like water
And I cannot help but

recall past summer’
Ever walk past a familiar place and recall a memory? Or hear a voice in the wind and think, thats them.
Mar 25 · 324
Monochrome skies
Sophie Chen Mar 25
Through monochrome skies
I watch the
stippled
Leaves of auburn
rot.
as time turns back
to that one autumn,
We parted through cooling ashes
leaving my heart's blood
to fall as red leaves
I remember reading a poem that had this beautiful scene, watching red leaves fall from a tree, like your heart was bleeding.
Mar 25 · 328
Puddle Dream
Sophie Chen Mar 25
Take a hiatus
to the petal adorned
sidewalks,

floating above reflections
of a pale canopy
Puddles-
of which are
doors back to reality
Ever have a dream so comforting, you never wish to leave?

— The End —