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 Jun 2016 Nicholas
Marlow
Blades of grass laying in the bottom of a bin underneath the trash of yesterday's sorrows.
The grass is silver and there isn't enough time to register that this isn't really grass... These are blades from my past and present and grim future.
Blades that slice open my left arm and my right leg.
The wind blows my right arm to make the grass blades dance across my skin.
It cuts so deeply that my need to feel something, turns into the need to feel nothing.
Physical pain was the least of my worries.
The emotional pain was worse than any bruise I got from my family.
The fact that leaving them, the people who torched my childhood, hurt worse than actually loving them.
 May 2016 Nicholas
ryn
Older
 May 2016 Nicholas
ryn
My mirror hangs stoic,
as silently it absorbs all it could with unbiased eyes.
All it receives under the day's sun.
Yet it never stores...
Not memories recent...
Not images perceived from the distant past...

My mirror
exists in the now.
It gives me only the present.
It reveals unequivocally the ground
upon which I stand.
It divulges only in the brutal and honest truth.
The kind of truth photographs could never tell.

Today it showed me what I've been seeing
with eyes half shut.
It showed me that,
I am older now.
Older than I was yesterday.
Older than I was a second ago.

Every wrinkle told a silent tale.
Every tale left quiet scars.
Every scar sang requiems of past mistakes.
And every mistake costed me my youth.

My mirror showed me that...
I'm older now because I've learnt much.
And I'm learning much more
because I'm older now.
An old photograph of myself inspired this.
The day had come when lovers had to say goodbye
Bid a piece of smile and wave a little hand
She thought that their love was so real
Yet ended up being strangers to each

Weeks had passed and you are still there
In her little mind that is full of moments
Moments that you had shared together
Moment that you should have cherished together.

It's been a while since her heart was so alone
And now, she had learned something new
That no one could fix her broken soul
But only she could do it, if she only knew.

— The End —