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Bella M Mar 14
Stars don’t just come out at night
But they wait persistently beyond the bright blue sky
until the clouds part and the sun sleeps
To finally be recognized again

They are above us and below us
Around us and within us
The stars never leave
They just become outshined by the sun

And so the next time you say the stars come out
Think to yourself
They were there this entire time
Shining boldly above our heads but we just couldn’t see it
stars are kind of like people
Bella M Mar 11
The sunlight crept through the gaps in the blinds
And reached its soft hands across the room
Stretching to caress her warm face
as to welcome her when she opens her eyes
to yet another day
Bella M Mar 11
my blood is laced with apprehension
that surges through my veins
and is pounded into my restless heart
I am tattooed from under my skin
the paint of reds and blues
engrave this beating canvas with unease
there is no escaping the fear
when it’s buried beneath my skin
operating my entire body
Bella M Mar 11
The voices an endless echo
bouncing through these corridors
of my restless mind

calls for help
unable to escape the maze
I have entwined between my ears

And while thoughts seeming nonchalant
flow out with every breath
my lips are forever sealed
for any words imposed to leave impressions

so for now it seems I am forced to bear
shouts the multitude of thunderclaps
a constant booming behind my eyes

and it’s sputtering out these cries  
that can stop me from drowning in all that is unheard
Bella M Mar 11
A knock on your window
A faint whistling in the air
Something seeping through the cracks
And masking your skin bare

The wind an unrelenting force
That swings open doors
Peels soft petals from roses
And swirls dust from the floors

Steals umbrellas from hands
And hats off of heads
Lock the doors, shut it out
Ignore what it has said

From outside the brick walls
It screams let me in
I have something to show you
It's about where I've been

So you turn the brass ****
And the wind stumbles inside
Swiping papers from counters
Throwing napkins aside

The breeze whispers in your ear
All that its seen
From over oceans and mountains
And everything in between

Aged millions of years
There's nothing more wise
Than a storm that is brewing
With winds that have eyes
Bella M Feb 2017
Like stars the lights arrange themselves
visible through the small airplane window
I watch as they pass by

Hundreds and hundreds of glows
speeding from underneath me
mere whisks across the earth's dark canvas at night

Each light a home or building
belonging to tens of different lives and stories
imaginable from my place in the sky

Just like the turn of a page
a fleeting flash of thousands of experiences
racing across my glass every moment

Behind every light could be a family or business
someone trying to make their way
all with different fears and worries and aspirations

It is easy to concur when you are not soaring over cities
your issues are the only one's recognizable in the pitch black
all others a mere dim fading away behind your blinding light

An unlikely expectation to look beyond your own illumination
with both feet planted on the ground
bounded to a small view of the world

But when you are pressed up against a cold airplane window
the glass almost as small as the width of your hand
yet you feel as if you can grasp entire city blocks in your clutches

When in just instances you can witness thousands of lives and stories
sparkle through just a single gleam of building lights
rushing by you by the hundreds

You come to a profound realization

Maybe my existence is not as daunting as I thought
perhaps my life encompassing all of my heartbreaks and devastation
isn't the only one in the world
Bella M Feb 2017
How is it that I feel loneliest
when surrounded by vast amounts of people?

It is when my ears indulge on the overlapping words
from the relentless conversations around me
when all I can process is static

Yet if I was to converse with a single person
breathing even the most minuscule of sound
it is in that moment I would be engulfed in a sense of familiarity and warmth

In this same time where only I and one other were to occupy a room
my voice would flow like winds
a continuous breeze that were to be as easy to exhale as a breathe

If these same four walls were to contain various minds, voices, thoughts, bodies with the ability to judge
A snake would wrap itself around my throat, choking me if I even attempted to release a sound

— The End —