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 Aug 2017 Dhaara T
woolgather
I'm a no one;
Just a stranger that happened to pass by,
Who made a silly mistake,
Yet you talked like we were meant to.

Just a peculiar case;
Talking random things,
That seem to mean nothing,
Yet made its way to be remembered.

A cathartic mess;
Leaving a note that said I'll leave,
Trying to forget how much it'd hurt;
You told me to come back.

Comfort;
Words that made me hold on,
Coming from the most unexpected person;
Maladroit.

Ecstasy;
Dancing with what you've said,
Somehow excruciatingly sweet;
Bitter.

Waiting;
Exhausted with nothing more to say,
Though wanting to talk;
Cold coffee.
I miss you

Even if I know you don't remember me
 Aug 2017 Dhaara T
L Seagull
Never confuse
Connection for luck of boundary
Or
Communication with speaking out loud
Sometimes we get stuck
Inside out bubble
Sometimes we dont get to learn
How to come out
Get lost in the depression and anxiety
Of alienated pride
Nothing but self-centered solitude
Can come out of a
Lack of empathy
If I let you into my life - I care. Your feelings, interests, everyday random impressions - all parts of your world become important. I wish to not only know you, but I wish you well

Here's from one of my favorite books Little Prince:
"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat . . ."

The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.

"Please--tame me!" he said.

"I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."

"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me . . ."

"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.

"You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me--like that--in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day . . ."

The next day the little prince came back.

"It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox. "If, for example, you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o'clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you . . . One must observe the proper rites . . ."

"What is a rite?" asked the little prince.

"Those also are actions too often neglected," said the fox. "They are what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters. Every Thursday they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards. But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all."


So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--

"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."

"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . ."

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"Then it has done you no good at all!"

"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." And then he added:

"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."
 Aug 2017 Dhaara T
L Seagull
Do not spit in the well - you might be thirsty by and by.
To those who think filters aren't important: Good luck drinking your spit when you find the well unfortunate enough
 Aug 2017 Dhaara T
L Seagull
In a momentary haze your mind spins
It droops and falls helpless into a vortex of
Smallness insignificant cold uncaring lonely
Smallness of the day when everything big
Either hurt, or used or didn't bother
It knocks the air out of your lungs that suddenly
Have no cause for breathing for why waste the
Precious oxygen? Yet you inhale in quick desperate gulps
And the ground slips from under your feet
It's all pointless - to save yourself, to seek help, to go on
Too small too emptied and filthy with their intentions
In tension with the needs needs needs...
The hopes that you found suitable for fire setting  
Pointless naive stupid hopes
So hatable you demolish them at once
Into waste under worthless sign
Forget the pain whatever it takes
It left you with blisters and hanging shoulders
With your chin tucked underneath your
Self-worth and you are not walking you are
Dragging yourself along the path
In the direction of pointless consumerism
And fame fame fame is all you wish, its all you hear
It's all you know of care because it's all that keeps them around
Them the faceless the soulless manikins that
Seem to have something you don't
Those hatable bodies that fill up the space
Around your black hole
And you fall and you fall and you fall
And all the things you have don't make you happy
And praise or kindness makes you paranoid
And you take all these little tablets of oblivion
Together in one gulp to forget
Just how far you still are from where you
Wish... if only you could wish to be
There was a choice somewhere in there, made every day for the sake of weakness to fight
 Aug 2017 Dhaara T
Ryan Cripps
You gave my confidence power.
Your beauty is like a sunshower.
You're the definition of empowered.
You're soft and sweet,
You are my delicate flower.
(c) Ryan Kane 2017
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