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Pho 3d
You were a constellation
I tried to hold
in trembling orbit
but gravity,
too desperate,
fractures the sky.

So I learned to love you
like the moon loves the tide
from a distance,
pulling gently,
never asking
you to stay.
Val 4d
A someone who passed for a long ago , stayed alone for many months, nobody ask about my situation are they still think that i am alive ? , are they even mention me in their conversations ? , will i guess i lived with them enough , i still hear the sound of past passing in my head every night , i cant escape its like a symbole engraved in my heart , the time passing so fast so i cant realize the moments that i live in my lonly space , i didnt find the true person to get out me of this , my life is an illusion , i still seating in my odd chair with my cold coffee in a stormy day .
Great love stories
Are not
ORDINARY

They're
Infact
EXTRA
ORDINARY

They're
made in mundane moments,
In lives lived,
In attention,
In adjustments,
In silence,
In speech,
In playfulness,
In passion,
In needing,
In nourishing

Such kind of love is not like a
sweeping romance
But REAL

Such kind of love is not like
fireworks,
But it is
      FULFILLING...
Laura 4d
Calamity is pounding, from inside and out.
As the world continues, hurtling out of control.
Disaster after disaster,as loved ones are lost.
Wars, famine and pestilence,has become the order of the day
Poliations and those in high rank has become scoffers,as they steal from the poor.
Keep your doors shut, Keep your doors
shut, is a cry heard from afar.
As crime and violence , is running rampant,as never before.
Freedom once loved, has become a thing of the past.
As no person is left untouched, with this scathing affair.
We are living in terrible times,as fear grips us.
The balance of freedom, is now balanced on a scale.
alia 4d
I miss the girl
with the quiet heart,
the one who smiled
before the world taught her
how to flinch.

I whisper,
What have I done?
like it’ll undo the storm,
like guilt can rewind time
if I feel it hard enough.

Hands shaky,
eyes red,
I look for the path
back to who I was,
small, soft,
still believing
that good things stay.

But the mirror only shows
a stranger with my face,
cracked wide with shame
and too many
I’m sorrys
stuck in her throat.

I want to go back.
To the version of me
who didn’t flinch at her own reflection.
To the version of me
who hadn’t yet broken
what couldn’t be unbroken.

But maybe…
maybe the road back
isn’t about time travel.
Maybe it’s choosing,
every day,
to hold that little girl’s hand,
not abandon her
in the dark I created.

Maybe I can still be her.
Not the same,
but braver.
Because I’ve seen
what pain does
and I still want
to be kind.
I'm okay. I swear. 💔
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