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  Oct 2015 Yashri
Roo
The soft scent of Shea butter creates
new homes for comfort as I
relax into your oversized clothing.
Solace is reinforced by your hands so vast
that I could fall asleep in your palms forever.
They fortify around my cheeks against
incoming attacks of antagonism.

The contrast is subtle;
you laugh so much but smile too little.
It's striking, your smile.
White teeth against skin so dark
that I half expect to see
the stars emerge,
the same constellations that are
reflected into my eyes when you call me beautiful.

It upsets you when you can't find the words
to bring me relief,
yet it is brought unto me by your touch,
your company, your smile, your scent.
Your ability to **** out the poison
left by venomous attacks
that hindered me nights full of desire
as though you were simply ******* on my
skin in scattered patterns during playful blunders.

You are comfort when comfort is needed.
new friends bringing happiness :)
  Oct 2015 Yashri
NV
01:52 am
have you ever asked yourself like why you so lonely?*

01:53 am
or empty?

that maybe you give too much of your essence to people and never leave any of you for yourself

01:55 am
i know i do

02:05 am
and like that's maybe why i get so attached to humans

because in them,
i find myself


02:07 am
i need to change, because things shouldn't be this way

02:10 am
but it's hard sometimes you know, when most days you don't leave the house because you feel unworthy of the space you take up

02:16 am
so you'd much rather disintegrate into soil because you've become all too familiar with people stepping over you and admiring the outcome of your beauty but never the roots of your pain

02:19 am
i spend so much effort watering people in order for them to grow and hardly get enough sun shine to feed my own soul

02:25 am*
because i don't know how to do anything else but care for everyone but myself
  Oct 2015 Yashri
Sjr1000
For I am exploding,
With bliss
In a reproductive ****
Sending my offspring
On the winds
Life taking hold
everywhere I go.

Burning.

Taking a moment of silence,
For dear Gaia
For giving me this time,
For all that made life possible,

For this burning to be alive.

For not being the cousins
in the woodstoves
fireplaces,
Slaves
which just got a taste,
burned and died.

For the match lights
Short life
Shorter than a candle light.

For who and where I am,
connected to the stars
who devour and mother all of our lives
Breathing
Inhaling
Exhaling
Consuming
Evacuating
Reproducin­g

Exploding
Imploding
Struggling to survive.

For all fire,
All life
through out the universe,
For all who will become
a dead silent
Unmoving
Cold
Cold
Cold
  ember.

I pray,

Amen.
It has been another year of forest fires, acting like no others in past history. Fire is a force of nature with no mercy,terrifying, more powerful than fragile humans, it also has all of the characteristics of life, perhaps the real alien life form.
  Oct 2015 Yashri
Sjr1000
I live my life
in the shadows,
the disconnected hours,
observing all I see.

I've learned to hide,
bide my time,
while time keeps passing all around me,
this set in
not today or yesterday,
but somewhere else along the way.

Eventually
that which protects us
defeats us in the end,
I become the naked dreamer
quaking
in the quad,
it all begins to strangle me.

Nature,
Open skies
open air,
this room
this mind
a suffocating refrain,
one wonders how it became this way.

I live my life in the shadows,
the invisible man for all to see,
take off my clothes,
shed my ego,
there is nothing left of me,
but this sacred breath,
these words that make no sense,
I'm the one that you don't see,
but I see you all around me.

I'm singing the Poet's lament,
the whispering voice,
you hear it in the shadows,
the figure passing by
out of the corner of your eye,
the one you can't quite grasp.

I live my life from the shadows,
the light is on the other side,
One of these days,
the dawn will call my name.
  Oct 2015 Yashri
Alana S
my tears aren’t forced
they flow in that
dark tunnel that she
dreamed so long ago
she wasn’t ready
to take her first steps
I wasn’t ready to
take mine without her.
Little things bring her back
like empty bowls or the tower
of books she’s never going to read.
People have been calling this a
trauma, but they’ve forgotten the
loneliness of life’s journey. She dreamed
a tunnel and added bright lights
and dusted the floor with powdery snow
she traveled far yet I can
only see the trails of
milk puddling around the lost key that she
dropped under blankets
of memory and phrases of
I-promise and tomorrow. I’m growing up as
she falls down. She wasn’t
perfect but that’s why it
was so easy to love her.
My journey’s ongoing, and the
deep undercurrents of pain and
grief are pulling me through
that tunnel.
I’m rowing softly by,
quietly, quietly,
as she is laid to rest.
her memories swallow the emptiness
she is kneeling at the throne.
I follow slowly and leave my
tears for her to know that life’s
path isn’t paved in water but
with sorrow, with endings, and with lost
boats on turbid seas.
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