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Mays Benatti Jan 3
We were lovers but now we’re two cars passing a freeway
I take a look back in the review mirror, like it was yesterday
wrapped up in each other’s arms, looking at the stars soaking from tears of love
Two clueless atoms bounding into everything and nothing in one, like an accidental chemical reaction
No clue of the long term repercussions
Now we're just strangers, with nothing left to say
Our love story ended, in a bittersweet way
Our paths have diverged, like two roads in the night
But I'll always cherish, those moments in the light
We were lovers, but now we're just two cars passing by
But the memories we shared, will never truly die
Our love may have faded, like a sunset in the sky
But the impact you had on my life, will never truly die
You taught me to love, to feel, to be alive
And though we're apart, those lessons still thrive
So as we drive away, on our separate ways
I'll hold onto the memories, of our love's brighter days
And though we may never meet again,
I'll always remember you, my dear old friend.
I was sitting on the 34th story, tears streaming down my face as cars passed below. That moment moved me to write, and with tears still falling, I poured my emotions into this poem.
Mays Benatti Jun 2021
I found a place of solitude inside my mind,
Self  reflection teeters on the line.
I speak my affirmations, shaping my manifestations,
Satisfaction on the road to attraction.

Through universal connection, I feel it rise,
Flowing gently through my consciousness.
I am your daughter, twin flame, friend,
Teacher or lover—it matters not in the end.

For we are all made of stardust and matter,
And that is the piece that truly matters.
This poem is a reflection on self discovery, spiritual growth, and the interconnectedness of all beings. It emphasises the power of affirmations and manifestations as tools for transformation, guided by the law of attraction. The universal connection described through relationships, whether as a daughter, twin flame, or friend—highlights the fluidity of roles and how they all stem from the same cosmic essence. It’s a gentle reminder of our shared origin in stardust and the profound significance of that unity.
Mays Benatti May 2023
A stranger stole my heart,
Leaving a mark I can’t deny.
I never got to touch you, yet I feel you everywhere,
As if our souls are intertwined.

Isn’t it strange, stranger?
Or should I call you beloved,
The stranger who stole my heart?
You’re not a stranger anymore,
You’ve carved a place in me.

I saved your love notes,
In case they’re the last you’ll ever write.
I saved your voice notes,
In case I never hear you again.

You said you’d return
When you stood on your own two feet.
I pray to God
You find your peace.
This poem is about the bittersweet cycle of how strangers can become lovers, only to drift back into being strangers again. It reflects on the fleeting yet profound connections we make with others—those who leave marks on our hearts that can’t be erased.

It’s also a meditation on holding onto moments of intimacy, even as they fade, through love notes and voice messages that become echoes of what once was. There’s a mix of hope and sorrow here, a prayer for someone’s peace even as their absence lingers. It’s a reminder of how love can transform, sometimes staying with us even when the person does not.
Mays Benatti Jun 2021
I shut my eyes,
Tapping into my imagination.
Intangible memories,
Just figments for now.

Hold me tight—
Don’t let my eyes flutter.
I’m staying here;
I don’t want to leave.

I’ll see you soon,
Across these seas
Or maybe in my dreams.

Ocean tides,
Broken promises,
And we sip on burnt tea.
This poem reflects on the delicate space between imagination and reality, where longing and memories intertwine
Mays Benatti May 2023
Dancing to the rhythm of the universe,
A beautiful, organic chaos.
Grateful for the lessons,
I drift in a pool of elysium.

A wounded healer in progress,
Prancing on a satin thread,
Woven with multidimensional facets.

Allow me to amend the social poison
Flowing within this boundless vessel.
A reflection on the interplay between the chaos of existence and the beauty of healing and growth. I speak to the journey of a “wounded healer” navigating lessons in a universe of infinite complexity. Comes from my life lessons
Mays Benatti Jul 2017
Searching for an ear,
Just one.
It's a quest for acceptance,
Or maybe the solace gun.
Hand it over,
Prepare to run.
This poem reflects a moment of deep vulnerability and inner conflict. It’s about searching for someone to truly listen, to provide that sense of acceptance we all crave. But there’s also this edge—this feeling of tension or danger that comes with opening up. The “solace gun” was my way of capturing how heavy those emotions can feel, like you’re carrying something powerful and fragile at the same time.

The line “hand it over, prepare to run” is a mix of fear and urgency, like a warning to myself or others about the risks of being vulnerable. Writing this was a way to process that push-and-pull between needing connection and guarding my own heart.
Mays Benatti Dec 2023
We become a new kind
By feeling a new kind
Stepping out of the mind
To allow reality,
To refine,
I’m fine
In the spaces I thought I wouldn’t be fine
I’m finding myself
In the places I thought I wouldn’t be
In the spaces I thought I’d never go  

But now I see the world anew,
And all the possibilities too,
I've shed the chains that held me back,
And found the courage I once lacked.

I've learned to trust my heart and soul,
And let my instincts take control,
I've stepped outside my comfort zone,
And found a life I now call my own.

I've found a new kind of strength and grace,
And learned to love my own true face,
I've become a new kind of me,
And now my spirit is truly free.

So let us all step out of mind,
And leave our fears and doubts behind,
Let reality refine our souls,
And help us reach our highest goals.

For in the spaces we thought we wouldn't be,
We find ourselves and our destiny,
And in the places we thought we'd never go,
We find the courage to grow and glow.
Mays Benatti Dec 2023
this wide space, there’s room to reflect—
Do you relate, or do you object?
Shall we debate, or quietly connect?
Please don’t hesitate.

Here in this space, we have room to grow,
To examine our lives and the seeds we sow.
We can see our mistakes, learn from the past,
And find the strength within us to make it last.

Do you feel this need for space and reprieve,
Or do you prefer to keep pace and believe
That we must always run, never pause?
Let’s share our thoughts, and reflect on the cause.

For in this wide space, there’s room for us all—
To forge our own path and answer the call.
With love and compassion, we’ll shape the night,
And find our inner light to make the future bright.
This poem is about the importance of creating space—for reflection, growth, and connection. I invite the readers to pause, step back from the rush of life, and consider their journey, choices, and the seeds they’ve planted.
Mays Benatti Jan 3
I want the world to open up and swallow me.
Intense, right? But intensity runs through my veins
the kind that bleeds passion,
the kind that demands expression, not just words, but poetry,
the kind of deep that sinks to the bottom of the ocean,
where it’s dark and raw, where I belong.
I know, not everyone is ready for waters like these,

but I thrive in the depths.
It scares people off, sometimes.

****. ****.
Okay, here I am again, not holding back.
I wonder—should I shrink, soften the edges?
Should I cut the fire down?
How do I even begin to stop feeling so much?
What does it mean to feel less, to express less?
If I feel less, I say less, and if I say less, I lose pieces of myself.
I’m not willing to lose her.

So, I let myself feel.
I cry, I rage, I break,
but in those moments, I’m alive.
I stomp, I speak, I let it all out, because if I don’t,
I dishonor who I am and the very essence of this human experience.
I would rather break a thousand times,
hurt again and again,
than let this world turn me bitter
For the ones who feel too much who live in deep—this one’s for us
Mays Benatti Dec 2019
If my beauty was to measured by progress,
Together, we might not feel so hopeless.
Tounge tied, our whispers turned us tone deaf

To the ones we hold closest
What if our progress as a couple had been measured by something deeper than physical attraction? Could we have grown into something more meaningful? This poem captures that bittersweet realization and the complexity of love built on infatuation.
Mays Benatti Jul 2017
Words can be described,
But when they’re felt, they become magic.
If I felt sunshine, would it be magic—
Or have I just described another word without knowing?
This poem reflects on the balance between understanding and feeling. Words can describe so much, but their real power comes when they evoke emotion—when they feel like magic. I used “sunshine” as an example to question whether the experience of something so simple is inherently magical, or if it’s just another word we assign meaning to without fully grasping its essence.

It’s a reflection on how language often falls short in capturing the depth of human emotion, leaving us to wonder if true meaning lies in the words we use or in the feelings they inspire.

— The End —