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 Jun 2018
Rohan P
graves are silent in passing;
stone withers like snow
cracked and weathered: the horizon
pales in shades of blue.
 May 2018
Rohan P
the morning was threadbare,
loosed on a string.

we watched
the rising sinew; watched
the morning as it knotted and
coiled. the forest
trembled slightly.
 May 2018
Matsuo Bashō
Spring:
A hill without a name
Veiled in morning mist.

The beginning of autumn:
Sea and emerald paddy
Both the same green.

The winds of autumn
Blow: yet still green
The chestnut husks.

A flash of lightning:
Into the gloom
Goes the heron's cry.
 May 2018
Rohan P
everything closes when the sun
goes down, i think.
i remembered you in fuzzy undertones:
the rays always seemed
to languish on your body/
the air always seemed to
sound so sweetly.

i felt the stirrings of  
spring, pressing close, withering
slowly.
i hope you know.
 May 2018
Lizzie
She sits alone in her room,
Listening to the sound of raindrops pounding on the window,
Demanding to be let in.
She cries in silence, for the pain she bares is too much,
She laughs with friends, flirts, jokes, alive with joy,
But in the end it's when she's all alone..
She chokes..
The crushing weight of dread, loneliness, and sorrow stab at her chest..
She wonders, when can she rest…
The voices are upon arrival, telling her there's no survival;
She pulls herself closer to hide the demons within..
But how can you drown them if they know how to swim?
‘Dunk them under’, they say, ‘smother them’;
‘How can I do that’ , she asks, ‘If they are inside me?’
As the rain pours louder, her heart shatters like glass,
The sharp edges cutting fast,
She asks herself,’How much longer can I last?’
As she takes the final slash
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