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 Oct 2018 Laksmi Dewi
She Writes
It is not the future that I am afraid of
The prospect of repeating the past
Is what scares me the most
 Oct 2018 Laksmi Dewi
I chased you
Until I was exhausted
So you choose to lift me
And carry me as your own
Believing you were someone
Who would finally love me
As I wished to be loved.
Time went on
My days grew greatly
And all was more than enough
Until the day came
The day awaited for all but me
The day I realized you chose me only
To stitch your cuts
And numb your pain...

I guess they were right.
 Oct 2018 Laksmi Dewi
 Oct 2018 Laksmi Dewi
being with you
felt like
being icarus.

if icarus had stayed at the sun
and stared it
in the face.

you were
my sun
you burned
my wings off.

and so i plunged
into space
with my head
on the brink

of explosion.
 Sep 2018 Laksmi Dewi
 Sep 2018 Laksmi Dewi
There’s been this weight on my shoulder,
Like a strike system:

Every time I do something that
I tell myself is “wrong,”
I add to this invisible weight.

Now, as it’s becoming too heavy to bear,
I realize that the only thing I’ve done wrong is punish myself for being human.  
And it’s time to stop.


Maybe it’s time to rethink
my notion of “wrongs”
And believe in the idea that
it’s okay to be imperfect.

So with these words, I finally
relinquish this burden.
I will not hold on to futility and
self-inflicted pain.
I will not spend the rest of my years in hurting in needless guilt.
I am letting go...

And I will be okay.
A note, a letter, a reminder to myself to stop and be kinder, more flexible, and less harsh with myself.
 Sep 2018 Laksmi Dewi
Özcan Sh
A song played on the radio
She cried softly

I saw her tears
Fell from her eyes
Down to her cheeks

I collected her broke heart parts
Glued them together with love
Pulled her in my arms
Whispererd in her ear

Do not cry my little girl
Let me change your bad memory
Into a beautiful one.
,how do you know when
(a human is too broken?)


human too broken?

like the light bulb, removal from its fixture, a simple shaking revelation of the tinkling filament spent, something that cannot be repaired, the only option is replacement and that makes
you cry

the empty box of oatmeal raisin cookies, you find secret’d,
hid by you, not to be found by you
at the bottom of the kitchen garbage,
but box betrayal, by the chartreuse tipped box lid sided
peeking upwards, asking, silencing screaming,
what did I do to deserve
this degrading

like the blouse now too tight that it brings stares as the buttons strain, unwelcome attention unintended,
you know it but still pretend not to see,
for you both once loved that silky guise that so
heightened the high tender, the match of your pink rose skin letting, no! making
your eyes glisten, like broken filament glass, on the sidewalk,
recalling the pleasured admiration,
rain remembered from the
prior priority of a life consisting of only
perfect gifts

so mean revert to the poseur question; this is how...

remove the human from a fixed place, whimpering-threatened,
you may hear clear the crackle cackling  of the innard shards against the misperception of a body intact,
even if you do,
no repair service you want,  can be found, see it nowhere,
is it even
anywhere advertised?

the body presumed intact is secret’d under a tactile coverlet,
holey scupperrd holy cuttered
so that the cells and bicuspids, the threads
no longer function in a tandem,
you keep it in the closet closed,
in the back, deep hid, where,
when it screams why,
it can be safe ignored,
because  ‘betrayed’ is no longer a word,
in your globe's dictionary,
the parental controls activated by you to
save your own inner child’s unconstrained confusion,
it has been removed

so the broken glass, the clothes you dressed each other,
if not weep-well,
well enough hid,
the fit is off,
the fit is off,
the coverlet ripped so bad and neither cares
an unexpected poem, unplanned, needing work
aug 4-5
 Sep 2018 Laksmi Dewi
Emily Jones
It rained like there had never been rain before
Soaking the concrete floor
Dimming the Edison lights
Prickling softly with their golden halos
Sweet easy music danced in the twilight
Melodic, hypnotizing
I could feel it sparkling along my skin
But the real moment was in
How you stood there in that gown
Its crocheted lace cream, wet with mist
An umbrella in hand
It's clear plastic glimmering like jewels Leaning for a kiss
From the man you swore to never live without
It was magic
Though it was wet
Your smile drowned out all the rain.
For my sister your wedding was something of fairy tales.

— The End —