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In my hand I hold your cold dead heart, not some semblance of it, but a absolute monstrosity, torn apart.

Were you able to see it, I'm sure you would agree, it's dark ,black, simply ugly.

I've considered dropping it off, at the post office you see, mail it as far away as can be.

Have it placed in, an iron box in chains, sunk to the bottom of the ocean, in Davies locker,it would remain.

Every time I get up, to do just that, I squeeze at bit harder, with both hands.
Refusing to release it,let it go. In fear, I am not sure why, your dead, I fallow, must go. ©
She looks into the distance,  staining her eyes to see, barley catching a brief flicker, of his dark hair, it must be he.

From above, the storm clouds roll, in the darkness of the moment, she knew what the prophecy foretold. Suddenly she knew what had to be done, under her sleeve, came her tiny had, still covered in her ****, from yesterday's blood stand.

Mind swimming in madness, fever chills, all she can hear, a loud voice kept repeating,****,****,**** it said.

NO, She screams, but no sound came forth, cought in her chest, the bolt of a crossbow, through her back,its razor sharp blades, born.

As he lifts her small, white body, he notices,  the smile upon her lips.
My lady he whispers, as he began to understand.

With her last breath, she raised her hand, bringing it down through his back, a dagger, he knew he was dead.

As he fell upon her, shock on his face, then and there he knew he loved her, for saving him from the kings cruel fate.......... ©
Утро. Рано. Скрип трамвая.
И туман!
Он повис над лесом дальним,
Над моим районом «спальным»...
Словно курит белый великан.

Небо серо, чуть прохладно —
Чуть задумчиво в душе.
И немножечко досадно,
Август бродит во дворе.

И немножечко печально — где ты, май?
Снова осень на пороге —
Вспоминай!
Только лето в этом годе — божий сад,
Дней счастливых урожай собирай.

Как ты быстро, время юркое, — бежишь!
И туман над спящим городом висит...
На работу собирается народ — жизнь спешит.
Мне не надо... мой автобус уж не ждёт.

Только память, только жёлтая трава...
Всё прошло! И поседела голова.
Оттого немного грустно на душе,
И улыбка чуть трепещет в глубине...

Утро. Рано. Скрип трамвая и туман.
Он окутал город, дальний лес.
Чуть светлее серости небес.
И душа теплеет — что грустить?
Будем жить, минутой дорожить!
Жизни идёт, как неоконченный роман.
Fiona 3d
I stand at the edge of everything.
I have stood here for a while now,
contemplating the change.
If I look down, all I see is an abyss of water.
The waves crash and churn, but I too, am made of the sea.

I decide. I tell you,
I am yours.
Will you take this offer?

It’s not a long way down.
Oh, the water is actually deep.

You scoop me up in your arms. You’re warm.

I’m surprised. You came with me.

You shake your head. You tell me you were already there, waiting for me. Already mine. Decided.

But how?

You wrap yourself around me, radiating heat. You tell me that I’m the author. I know how it ends.

Together I’m the edge; you’re the sea.
I say I want something real,
More love ,more connection,more presence.
But everytime it comes ,feels more distant
The harder I try ,more it repels

What if I go after what I want?
And it doesn't want me back,
Chaos fills my mind

But still in need of peace ,
I try find reasons not to give up,
I get quiet and so silent.
I question if being seen leads to being left.
If then, I should leave first to be seen.

Have walked with it in my heart,
Like an armor I call it strength,
Challenged myself it was a journey worth walking.

Convincing myself not needing anyone was okay,
Doing everything on my own was worthy.
In isolation I called solitude my friend,
Because in it was peaceful.


But all this maybe am just afraid,
That letting someone in , they'll get to know a version of me I kept hidden,
They'll still walk away anyway,
And I'll still walk and be alone anyway.
It speaks the chaos in our minds that people are afraid to lose others even when drained they are, it's necessary to embrace solitude fro peace.
fay 3d
We blame it on Mercury retrograde—
the missing, the craving,
the ghosts from our past.

We blame it on the stars—
the weight of wanting someone
we swore to forget.

We blame it on everything
but ourselves,
so we don’t feel guilty
for repeating the cycle
we promised to break.
2025

the energy shifts as the retrograde ends
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