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When you say something
no one understands,
but someone in the room
quietly nods —
there I am.

When you think
you’re the first
to feel that way,
and the word already sounds
like it was there before you —
there I am.

I am the voice
you did not invent.
You only
borrowed it.

I am the song
that waited for you
before you began to write.

I am —
not new.
But already said,
only this time
with your breath.
I bleed with ink.
You breathe in brushstrokes.
Still, we meet
in the same shade of ache.

I call it a stanza.
You call it a sky,
but both are ways
to survive the silence.

My pen trembles like your hands do
when the colours won’t blend.
We try to tell the truth,
but it keeps slipping
into metaphor.

I say “I miss you”
through rhythm.
You say it
through smudged reds
and too much blue.

We never made sense
in black and white.
But somewhere between
my verse
and your canvas,
we almost
became a masterpiece.
When a painter loves a poet. Find me on the Poesie app as palindromic_angel to hear my readings :)
 Jun 28 Feyre
Kalliope
Scream
 Jun 28 Feyre
Kalliope
I want to scream, get you off of my chest,
As if I could yell away my love for you-
like it’d cure my unrest.
As if the night air would accept my pain,
releasing it to the clouds,
turning you into rain.
But then you’d just be all around me,
soaking the ground-
yet I still haven’t mastered
moving on without sound.
Alright Cloudy I won't promise this is the last one, but I'll make a real effort to write about something different- this one was just already in the works 🤣
 Jun 28 Feyre
Jeremy Betts
Too good to be true
Too true to be good
That second one requiers an unfortunate life to be understood

Say what you mean
Mean what you say
I don't see the difference between these statements to this day

Love and loss
Never loved at all
One being better than the other is not anyone's place to call

Keep your chin up
With a glass jaw
Even advice with the best intentions can leave you broken and raw

©2025
 Jun 22 Feyre
Damocles
Do you want to see the sunrise over the sky
Like tangerine orange splashed against a sea of peach and lilac?
Well I know a place where we can watch the moon flirt with the daylight
Just take my hand, and I’ll guide you through a wonderland

Where we can see the stars,
Bloom from the verdant stems
Pink and white spread wide,
And we can touch the petals of its points
Feel the dew drops hydrate your fingertips
Once we go through the thick of this

Watch the peonies open their bloom
Fluffy maroon and white beds for bees
As they sit so beautifully,
Ants resting on the eaves of leaves
Pleased by their workmanship to please
Eager eyes in your gasping maw
So surprised, to see this in awe
Well I surmise, you’ll love the way that the colors gleam.

Here where dahlias dance
To the very brisk of a morning breeze
Perfect symmetry blossomed in telemetry
We can count the layers, lost in a labyrinth
Amazed by the scent carried by a zephyr
Ticking the senses, and yet there’s more to the journey
As hydrangeas in blue and pink flourish,
Bush cover for arboreal critters,
Grasping seed and nuts to scurry off into the umbra.

But nothing brings me clarity
Nothing screams sincerity
Quite like the tea leaf rarity,
Of the conclave of peach colors swirling
Timeless in a capsule of a lover’s first gift
A painted, watercolor masterpiece,
Pink layers over yellow, and white,
Shades of coral and purple highlight the light
It’s in this decadence I could eat the petals
And in recompense maybe I’ll bloom as pretty too
As we end our morning glory
Under the thorn-capped bushel
Of roses, ala peach swirls.
Peach Swirl roses are just stunning to look at. I wanted to write something fun and hopeful, about the love of nature and how I feel every morning walking through my flower portion of my garden.
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