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Laura Apr 2023
Home, the starting line of our escape,
Where I emerged, a canvas raw, a tale to shape.
Families, the battlegrounds of our soul’s strife,
Forging wars and revolutions in the crucible of life.
They birth not only children but pains untold,
In the flames of their struggles, stories unfold.
In the inferno of birth, the world seems ablaze,
Yet through time, we learn it’s just a passing phase.
And as anger simmers, it unveils its true motif,
Revealing itself as grief, our companion in relief.
Laura Apr 2023
when love's not served on silver, but sliced on knives' edge
from wounds we learn to draw the gentlest pledge
the violence unseen
it shapes our soul's embrace
transforming scars into verses
a tender grace
nothing concludes with verse or rhyme's decree
yet endings birth poetry from life's debris
blood once spilled held no beauty in its hue
just crimson streams
a truth we misconstrue
yet in the gaze upon our wounds
we endeavor to find solace beyond
in moments that sever
Laura Apr 2023
in the hush of silence
in the calm of peace's release
they approach, dancing
their presence a gentle tease
last year, amidst the ebb and flow of time's sway
I erred and guessed in myriad ways astray
last year's tears
steadfast companions through the night
yet within their shimmer
I glimpsed a guiding light
not hatred but fear, you instilled within my core
teaching love's tangled dance
entwined forevermore
addicted to disappointments bitter taste
to the cycle of ascent and fall
not one to waste
you and I
a tale of what could never be
a symphony of longing
a silent plea
heavy the heart
in the weight of sorrow
I find my spirit free
I found this in my journal, from 2022
Laura Apr 2023
open wounds
they stare into the sun
attempt to conceal them
enough bleeding's been done
carried on my shoulder, strapped in tight
do they need the darkness
or the brightness of light
I wish I could tell you
still trying to unearth
the mess that's made
from death until birth
Laura Apr 2023
Where is Carli?
The willow that hung so freely, where are the stars on my ceiling?
The red radio with the broken antenna
I remember the rhododendrons blooming and growing so tall that I couldn't see the street
where are they?
Where is my pink banjo crafted by dad's paragon of patience
where is the color in your hair?
I see how life has hit you, and I want to hit it back for you
Mama bought me a book,
she said you are my curious girl
I read the pages slowly while trying to make sense of the world
Where is the ring that the ocean swallowed up?
Where are the stars we watched?
Where is the bee that stung inside of my ear?
When did my fears grab me over the years?
Where is the wandered asking these questions?
I thought I'd have the answers by now
but I'm only left with lessons
Laura Mar 2023
i never wanted to be you
i fought it , i swore it, i cursed myself
if i ever became a single, similar
drop to you
this aversion it kills me yet frees me
Laura Mar 2023
tears fall gracefully, yet violently
time passes and passes
to move on from the ones i love
the ones who dressed
who fed me the food
that nourished my growing body
the ones who gave me shelter when I was dependent
for my very own survival
who held me, who love me,
who support me
I love you with my every breath
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